The Race I Can't Talk About

 

The Race I Can’t Talk About

I have spent the last year in writers block. I have written this post at least four times. I have thought about what I might say while at work, while I have been drifting off to sleep, while doing just an every day run for my next goal. I have come to the conclusion there is no way I can write this and not offend some one most of all my best friend, my family, my friends, and my husband. I truly do feel awful, however sometimes you have to feel what you feel. Maybe not voice it publicly but here I am posting it on a blog no one reads. So call me what you will but I suppose I do owe it to my one reader (myself) to make a post about the challenge I was so hyped up about.

I went into the Fairy Tale Challenge of 2023 with a lot of hopes and a lot of expectations that I either did not express or did not view in a realistic manner. I had a vision for my 2023 race, I don’t know why I had this vision. I joined a few Facebook groups to try and boost my morale. Get myself ready! All that did was give me some unrealistic or unsupported ideas.

So my thoughts here were: joining a Facebook group helped me when I was going through idiopathic infertility perhaps a Disney oriented running group and the official Facebook page would help me with motivation and help me stay on track. I also thought inviting friends and family to join me in the challenge, no matter what level they were at, to join me, would give me the push I needed. I was gravely mistaken about a lot of things. And before you go blaming family and friends for anything, please remember this was all in my head, my visions are not reality. If there is one thing I have learned in therapy it is this: I cannot expect my family or friends to live up to my expectations or standards. It is incredibly unreasonable of me to do so and unrealistic. I have seen my expectations destroy my relationships so I have had to let them go. I will not lie about how difficult that has been and there have been expectations that I have not been able to let go of that have to this day broken down relationships.

But here we are talking about the challenge I had set for myself for the age of40. I had challenged myself to complete the Fairy Tale Challenge by the age of 40. In fact that is what I wanted to do for my 40^th birthday. I know its weird for someone to want to run a 10k and a half marathon back to back, but that is what I wanted.  I wanted to show my strength. I wanted to show my mediocre success. I mean you hit 40 and you and have to have something to show for it right?

I am trying to take a deep delve into why this challenge meant so much to me on my 40^th birthday. My thirties were all about recovering and discovering what I should have done in my 20’s. I spent my 20’s trying to escape what was my life. I did have some good experiences in my 20’s. I met my best friend in my 20’s. I cannot imagine my life without her. I also cannot imagine my life without the group of people that saved my life. My nursing school group. I just had this vision for my for my 40^th that was unrealistic and a lot to ask of people that know so little about me, through no fault of their own. I don’t share and I don’t get close because I don’t want to be judged and I am still in the phase of life where I measure my self-worth on the opinions of the people I surround myself with. I am trying to move past that because I know my best friend seriously does not give a shit. She loves me anyway. And so does my husband.

The 2023 Fairy Tale Challenge was just that: a challenge. I wanted so much to try and lose Martha, or at least as much of her as I could. If you don’t know WHAT Martha is, sorry, I am not going to explain, but simply: some ladies do not go back to their previous abdominal status no matter how hard they try without surgical intervention. Meaning: I have worked with physical therapy, nutrition, personal training, and a host of others. No matter what I do, genetically, without surgical intervention, or starving myself, I will never go back to having the midsection I had before I had children. Believe me I have worked my ass off. Not literally because I have not been able to lose that since middle school. The literal weight and balance of Martha is painful. There were runs where she made it a struggle to get motivated and make it through. But even without Martha’s input, training was a struggle. There were some good days, but mostly every training run, every weight session, every yoga practice was a mental game for me. It just didn’t seem like no matter how much my husband cheered me on or the supportive words I got from people around me, it was enough to boost me past that mental struggle.  

I don’t know what it is that other runners are doing that they are able to find some sort of Zen or peace or steady state when running. They break through that wall where with in a few meters if their run they just go and no longer think of the distance. Its like they are on autopilot. They slip in those running shoes, strap on their “gear bag”, and just go. There has not been a single time in my life, either in my teens, 20’s, or 30’s where I have ever reached that level of fine-tuned habit, at least not with running. Hiking, yes, running, no. Every run I am thinking about the amount of effort, and it is an effort, I am putting into. Every hill no matter how small is a mountain. No mile just flies by. I even try to distract myself with guided runs. It helps temporarily but my brain always goes back to how much longer I have to go and how much focus it is taking to put one foot in front of the other. Which I am sure begs the question: why the hell do I do it? Because I am an overachiever that has never actually overachieved anything. Because I set impossible standards for myself based on childhood/ young adulthood experiences and expectations that I never quite lived up to. Because I want to eat chocolate and drink wine and not feel godawful about it. Perhaps because I know in the moment of the actual race (they aren’t really races unless you are a competitor), I know I am going to be enjoying the company of whoever decided to do the race with me. Because I know that a runDisney race is a lot of fun and they are more about the experience than the actual challenge of 5k, 10k, or half marathon. With the Fairy Tale Challenge, that was what I was wanting, the experience.

               On the actual days of the challenge, the experience was not what I had in mind. First, we struggled to find a trail or an area to run the 10k since it was a virtual race. I truly wanted to do the 10k and half marathon back to back and I wanted to do it on Disney grounds. While a map of Disneyworld shows walking trails throughout the grounds and the resorts, there are warnings that a lot of the trails are not to be used by persons not staying on the resorts. So, to find trails where we could run without getting in trouble was a challenge. In the end for the 10k we settled on a 5k loop near the campgrounds and cabins on the resorts. We went in the morning. It was a nice morning, for Florida. Something should have clicked in my brain when we went through a ticket gate when we arrived at the campgrounds. It did not occur to me that we would need a gate key to get out…we didn’t, we got lucky. We parked and attempted to find a trail head without success. The map was not very clear, so we settled for running what sidewalks and trails we could. That was not a well thought out plan. We ended up at a dead end at a lake, turned around and ended up at a dead end at a bocce ball court. It threw off my rhythm and much to my frustration I ended up walking/ running at the four mile mark. It took a lot for me not to scream at myself in frustration. I had really wanted to run that whole 10k. Rick stayed with me the whole time and we managed to finish the 10k in 1hour 20 minutes. My dad was impressive. At the age of 65, he ran a 10k without stopping in 1hr 10mins. I was pretty proud of him. A little upset at myself for getting my butt kicked by my old man, but it was my own fault for not training harder. My best friend died somewhere around two miles, it turned out she had some sort of stomach bug and we found her half alive in the grass where we started. Needless to say the rest of the day was rather frustrating for me. I tried to enjoy Hollywood Studios simply for the sake of my children, but I kept focusing on Bri and Dan not being there. The kids not getting the full experience. And my lack of forethought on ear pro for the kids. I just tried to paint on a smile an focus on the good things. Ben got to say hi to Donald and Daisy Duck. They both enjoyed the Star Wars experience. I have to say the Millennium Falcon ride was a lot of fun and the work that went into making it real was incredible. Both kids got to enjoy rides and see Fantasmic, but that is where I failed their little ears. So while I finished, I felt like the day was a loss for me.

               Where do I start about the half? Rick, Dad, and I got up before the sun even started to think about getting up. It was already foggy. It stayed foggy throughout the race, which I didn’t mind. It kept things cool. Only at Disney do you have to walk three miles to run 13.1. It was the joke I came up in my head. I don’t know about other people, but when I know I am about to do something physically exerting I just never know what to talk about. Do I talk about how I feel? In the crowd of thousands even with my husband standing next to me I felt alone. Very alone. I was looking at groups of girlfriends all dressed in costumes. Ladies that had come to purely challenge themselves for whatever reason. Fabulous costumes everywhere, clever, and beautiful. Full makeup which made me wonder how the hell it was going to stay in place in the heat in humidity, let alone the sweat of running a half marathon. But I was focused. I was not going to get “swept”. Which meant the “balloon ladies” catch up to you and in effect your race is done. I tried to break the whole race into challenges. My first challenge was to make it through the castle without walking. Close to six miles. The most I had been able to run without walking in training was five miles. When we finally crossed the start line that was all I could think about. I turned on my playlist and wove through the people from my gate and from those that came before. My beginning miles were slow. Slower than my training runs. But I was focused. I was going to make it through Cinderella’s Castle without stopping, with hopefully, a good photopass shot. At mile five through Tomorrow Land, what happens to most women who have had children happened, good thing I was wearing black, and something to help. I kept going. But has I stared at the castle looming over my head my first thought was “Great, I peed my pants…and now I am going through the castle. At least I made it this far.” I felt a small joy, if not serious need to walk for a minute as we entered Frontier Land. If your wondering how my running partner was doing, I honestly have no idea. He as still there when I finally slowed to a fast walk in Frontier Land. My thoughts were only for my own goals for that first main drive. I made it through the castle without stopping to walk. After that, it was just getting through knowing my wall would come, as it had in the past, at mile ten.

I finally took a second to enjoy the fun. It was honestly a beautiful morning. Foggy, cool for Florida, and as always humid. Rick was still alive right next to me. I have no idea what we talked about. I think at one point he asked if I wanted to do a character experience along the way, but I was so focused on finishing stopping for any reason was not part of my plan. Rick and I developed some sort of pattern. I have no idea how we fell into it. It worked until both of us needed a long walk. We would walk about a quarter of a mile and run the rest. I think we both hit that wall, you know the one where you either puke, fall over, or push through. I wasn’t about to do the first two and embarrass myself, so we pushed through, limping just a little. I think we both got to a point somewhere near the end going through Epcot we just stopped sweating. Our clothes were soaked anyway from sweat, I think that was partially keeping us cool. I will say they were a touch dryer than my clothes were on what I call: The Hike of Death. If you want to know the story feel free to ask. Going through Epcot my mind went through my expectations again. What I had envisioned crossing the finish line. I had hoped my babies would be there with hugs and cheers. Or my friends would be there with hugs and cheers. I had hoped for a good picture at least of us crossing the finish line. It was not what I had in my head.

We crossed the finish line with cheers from the crowd cheering on other runners. We crossed, sweaty sore, and tired and a little chaffed in areas we wouldn’t really feel until we showered. It hurt not to see my babies on the other side of that finish line. It hurt to see people splitting off to get their Challenge medals. It hurt to see the ladies with the make-up, still perfect by the way, gather with their friends in their costumes. It hurt to sit and try and eat a snack and drink some electrolytes. It hurt to see the unbearable long line for the celebratory beer and champagne with the sparkling Mickey ears I had planned on getting but knew I wasn’t going to get. I REALLY wanted the cup, but my dad was waiting to return to the condo and I didn’t want to be rude and make him wait. He tried hard to get good pictures of us crossing the finish line, but alas, you cannot predict the movements of other people in a crowd when you have a camera in front of your face. The race pictures themselves were not great. Red faced, exhausted, hair slicked and soaked with sweat, Martha jiggling. There were no cute jumps or couple kisses, looking good, and with a workout glow. Even the post-race pro photos were not great. Maybe its just that I hate photos of myself or maybe it was all the emotions I had wrapped up in the race itself. I walked away from the finish line and the festivities feeling hurt and disappointed. No one in particular had hurt me, and I couldn’t exactly pinpoint what I was disappointed about. I had finished the race with Richard supporting me all the way. I had finished in a better time (2:56:52), I had in fact, ran a 10k and a half marathon back-to-back and did not feel horrible after. So, what was wrong?

I didn’t really reflect on it on the drive back to the condo. For the first time in years, maybe since my 20’s, my brain shut off. All the noise, all the racing thoughts, the ongoing to-do lists, the multiple worries, the daydreams, the reflections on past events, the stress over future events, the anxieties over things that will most likely never come to pass, the continuous dialog that doesn’t stop even when I sleep (I have crazy vivid dreams), just stopped. I wasn’t even sore. I wasn’t bothered by how I smelled or how gross my clothes were. I wasn’t hungry or thirsty. For once it was an overwhelming sense of calm. It wasn’t euphoric, it was just calm. I remember staring out the window of the minivan on the way back to the condo just watching the grass and thinking and feeling literally nothing. Is that the sensation that devout runners chase? I have never experienced a “runner’s high.” In fact, I think it is a myth, a giant lie that gets people to run, just to experience the sensation. Even after a long run training all I felt was exhaustion and the start of the muscle pain I knew I would feel for two days even if I stretched out completely. I don’t remember getting into the shower, but I do recall it being difficult to get out of it and the water stinging like hell on all the chaffed areas. When you have chub, you chaff. I don’t recall my nap being glorious or the food I ate that night being fantastic. I don’t even think I got into the pool or the hot tub that day. The day passed, as I recall, without any sort of sense of accomplishment on my part. Richard I am sure felt like death. Poor guy didn’t even train and managed to finish with me.

A person reading this might think I am completely ungrateful for this experience. I am not. I got to spend quality time with people I loved, I was able to afford the experience, I was able to finish both races with people I loved without injury (although Bri died from some sort of virus and my parents ended up getting sick on our last day), and I did have fun. The look on my kids faces at the theme parks was worth all of it. So why am I stuck on the disappointment at the finish lines? The truth is: I don’t know. Perhaps something is fundamentally wrong with me that I cannot let go of something I cannot change. That anything less than perfection is not acceptable? Except I am not a perfectionist. I am, however, grateful for the people who put up with me during this experience. My husband, my kids, my best friend and her husband, and my parents. Without them it’s not even worth it to try.

So, because I am, who I am, I am going to try again. Next time with realistic expectations and a reminder to myself to just enjoy the fact that I am healthy enough and have the means enough to do these things and be grateful that I have people that put up with my nonsense.  For now, I am focused on beating my husband at the Army PFT, hopefully motivating him to do better and be healthier, and I have decided to take on the Coast to Coast in 2025, with Bri reluctantly in tow, because she supports my insanity…I think it amuses her.