13.1...

I seriously cannot believe I did it. I HATE running. I've always hated running. But sometime last year, I decided that I wanted to give running a fair shot and that I would train for a half marathon. Most of my siblings run and my dad did a marathon last October. I figured running must be in my genes somewhere...

I began a running program that went something like this: run 60 seconds, walk 60 seconds, run 60 seconds, Michelle dies.

So pathetic how out of shape I was.

But slowly I started running longer stretches, walking less, feeling less like I was gonna die. I ran my first 5k at Thanksgiving, another 5k in January, a 10k in February, and another 10k in April. I moved off my treadmill onto the beautiful lake trails of South Jordan and I actually started to enjoy myself. It began to be fun.

Training for the half marathon took a little of the fun out of it. Any run under 5 miles was manageable and even therapeutic, but if I went beyond 5 - I felt irritated and annoyed. My Saturday runs got longer and longer. I would go to sleep Friday evening dreading the morning. But even though 6-7-8-9-10 miles were long and hard, I always felt awesome afterwards.

Yesterday, Caton and I ran the Utah Valley Half Marathon. I was soooo nervous. We had to get up super early (3:00 am!!), catch a school bus to the starting line, wait two hours in the freezing cold, use port-a-potties in the dark, and then line up with thousands of other runners to start the 13.1 mile course.

I was so nervous that I would choke and end up walking the whole thing. But guess what... I KILLED IT. The course was gorgeous - down Provo Canyon - and as I ran, I felt happy and invigorated. The adrenaline was awesome. It was exhilarating to run in such a large crowd. 5 miles passed quickly. 8 miles passed quickly. I got to 10 miles and still felt good. I only walked through the water stations and only for a few seconds (I haven't mastered the art of running and drinking at the same time). At 11 miles, I started to feel done. My legs felt heavy and tired, but it felt better to keep going than to stop. At mile 12, I felt reenergized. Only one more mile to go. I could see the blue inflated finish line in the distance. The streets were lined with people cheering. I passed my sweet kids and my husband (who had just finished) with their "Go Mom!" signs (that got me a little choked up). I powered through the final stretch and crossed the finish line.

I am very proud of myself. I set a goal, did all the work, and finished. I also set a goal to be finished in 2 hours and 30 minutes. My final time was 2:23! I couldn't be happier about my experience. And it was so fun to run with Caton (even though he was faster than me - 2:02). I was grateful we could share this experience together.

I don't know if I'll ever do another one. This might be one of those "been there, done that" experiences, but I am glad that I did it.

I didn't bring my good camera so here are some iphone/point and shoot pics from the day.

Here's Caton coming down the final stretch...

There's me getting choked up and waving like a crazy person to my kids...

My dad did the full marathon - his second one! Seriously amazing!