Hitting a wall

When I decided I wanted to run a half marathon last year I thought (as well as a few others)  I was crazy. I had never run that far in one period of time. Why on earth would I want to do this? Well, first of all, I wanted to drop a few pounds and get healthier at the same time. My minds reason was that I was in the middle of adopting a little boy and wanted to make sure I would be able to run around a play with him. (I don't want to be one of the mom's that sit on the bench while they play) I desire to soak up all the experiences I have missed in not having kids for so long.

I printed a free half marathon training guide and started the process. I followed it and started eating healthier, stopped the soda and was chugging water. I thought I was ready to go........little did I know. The day of the half marathon (Haunted Half Marathon) came and I was nervous (and cold) up in Emigration Canyon (luckily I had my BFFL- Kelly Medici with me, to calm my nerves), waiting for the start gun to go off. The only goal I had, this particular day, was to cross that finish line. I didn't care how long it took, as long as I crossed.

The headless horseman shot the gun, I started forward and got into the rhythm of running I had trained for. I took water/PowerAde at every station and gel packs when offered. I thought I was doing pretty well when I hit mile 10.........THEN........ I hit the runners "wall" at 10.5 miles. My calf started seizing up, it was so bad I literally almost tripped. I stopped to stretch it, massage it, and started running again (several times). It just kept knotting up, I had to walk for a bit, but by this time, my knees felt like ice picks were being jabbed through them. I tried running, I tried so hard, but the pain was just too much and I ended up walking most of the 2+ miles I had left, though I was running when I crossed the line. When I could have felt like I was failing, the one thing going through my mind was that I was still moving forward, still going toward the end of the goal I had started so many months before.

I FINISHED, I didn't care what the clock said, I FINISHED. It pained me to walk at all after I ended that run. (I am not sure whose idea it was to have the parking lot 2 flights of stairs up from the finish line, but it was a really bad one). It took me a week for my knees to recover.

I feel like it's race day (in regards to the adoption) again and I am at the 10.5 mile marker. I have hit the wall and I am seizing up. It's hard knowing that I have come so far and have no idea where the finish line is. The pain is there and I am doing everything I can to just keep moving forward. I may have to stop and stretch muscles, massage my mind, and know that the end is around a few bends (somewhere). The goal again, in my mind, is to just finish. I don't care how long it takes (well maybe a little), just as long as I do.

At the end of this run, is a little boy ready to call me MAMA.

Kayleen's Kid Quest continues.......