My First Marathon

I would be amiss if I didn’t start out this post by thanking everyone who supported me over this marathon journey.  From my first run in September, to my half in October, to my stress fracture in December, to this past Sunday, the outpouring of texts, FB posts, FB and IG likes, calls and everything in between.  It really shows that when used correctly, social media has to power to build people up and provide a supportive environment for any dreams and goals that people have.  Over the last four and a half months, I KNOW that I inundated the internet with pictures of my runs and workouts and quotes that kept me motivated, but STILL, instead of being annoyed, people went through all the emotion with me:  hope, encouragement, caution, disappointment, reassurance and finally overwhelming excitement for my accomplishment.  I felt everyone with me the entire time and it was everything I needed to get me through.  I hope that through this journey, I have inspired YOU to do something you never thought you could do AND to share that journey with others.

On Saturday morning, my Grandma and I drove into the city to pick up my bib and get acquainted with where she would be dropping me off the next day.  I purchased a VIP pre-race package, so I was able to spend the hour before the race the next day in a little café with heat, bathrooms and snacks.  It was probably the best decision I made.  As per a suggestion made by another running friend, I made a sign for the back of my shirt that said:  First Marathon!  What an amazing idea and HUGE blessing that was.  Before the run in the VIP lounge, I met a number of people who struck up conversations with me because of my sign. One woman I met was running her 32^nd marathon, but hadn’t run more than 13 miles in the last two years.  One man had just done the Arizona Ironman two months earlier.  Out at the start of the race, I talked to a man who was running his 60^th marathon over the course of the last 20 years!

I was surprised by how small the race was.  I can’t speak for the half marathon and 10K, because their starting line was at a different location, but I was in the very last corral, and it only took me about 10 minutes to get to the starting line.  In my experiences with races in Philly, sometimes it takes my corral 30-40 minutes to get to the front, and I’m not usually in the last corral.

I kept a steady 11-minute mile pace for the first half of the run.  I was really excited because I was on track to finish under 5 hours.  I could say that I didn’t have a time goal, but I really believe that everyone has a number in the back of their heads that they’re hoping to hit.  I was having NO foot pain and I was feeling really good.  So many people passing me saw the sign on my back and gave me thumbs up, high fives, words of encouragement and congratulations.

Things really started to slow down around mile 18.  While my injury was causing me no pain, the bottoms of my feet and my calves were killing me.  I was walking more and more and my 11-minute mile pace was creeping up to 11:05 and 11:10.  At one point, I expressed my struggles to a man who was trying to give me some encouragement.  He said, “You’re doing great.  Remember, you’re not the only one in pain right now… EVERYONE is in pain.  But you’re going to finish.”  That actually really helped.  He was right, everyone was in pain, not just me.

Around mile 24, I started running with a guy who had nothing but a pair of shorts and his bib on.  He started talking to me about where I was from, what I did for a living, and telling me a little bit about him self.  I am sure he was doing that to keep me distracted, but it was nice and it worked.  I was able to run another mile without stopping to walk.

I’m not a super sentimental person, but I absolutely cried when I crossed the finish line.  This race was, undoubtedly, the hardest thing I have ever physically done.  Thinking about the months of training, the set backs, and even the knee surgery I had just one day shy of 18 month before, I couldn’t believe I had done it.  I couldn’t believe my body physically made it through, but I also couldn’t believe I mentally allowed myself to take that risk.  I had a lot of time to think about what I was doing, a lot of time to convince myself I couldn’t, a lot of time to freak out and panic, a lot of time to back out.  But I didn’t.  Now, I really do believe I can do anything.

And if I can do it, so can you.

My Stress Fracture Story

They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  Here are just some of the pictures I took during the longest three weeks of my life:

As you can see, it's been quite a roller coaster ride.  For those of you not in the loop (www.facebook.com/FitbyExample), let me recap.

A couple weeks ago, I got new shoes.  The old ones were two years old, but a lot of that time I hadn't worn them because of my knee surgery.  I just felt like their time had come, and I needed a new pair to finish out my training.  I stuck with Asics, but picked something with a little less cushioning, but also a half size up to account for any swelling during long runs.

I wore them a couple times.  The first long run I did with them was 15 miles... the longest run I've EVER done.  I felt great.  After the run, I had a little discomfort all around my foot... the top, the arch and even the ball of my foot.  It felt like I needed to crack it, but it wasn't cracking.

By my next run on Tuesday of that week, I felt fine and went for an easy four mile run.  Again, no pain during the run, but enough pain after for me to reevaluate my week.  I would skip my 8 mile run that week and wait until Sunday for my 16 mile run.

On Sunday, everything was fine until about four miles in.  I started to have some pain in the areas I'd had in the past, but nothing that made me feel like I needed to stop and walk.  By mile nine the pain was bad enough that I could tell that I was running unnaturally, but still not enough for me to feel like I needed to stop.  I finished the 16 miles, but I couldn't walk the rest of the day.

After a fitful night of sleep, I woke up, still in pain, and iced my foot.  I didn't realize until I tried to put on my shoes that my foot was swollen.  Even wearing a sock was painful.  I decided to go to Urgent Care that afternoon, because I knew they would be able to take an X-ray right away.  The doctor at Urgent Care was not concerned.  She told me it was probably just my new shoes.  Take a week off and then try going back to my old sneakers.  No break was found on the X-rays.

Just to be safe, I had an appointment with the PA at my orthopedic's office the next day.  To my distaste, she was pretty quick to assume it was a stress fracture, and immediately told me to start rethinking my marathon.  Four to six weeks of healing time and a slow reentry into running would take me right up to the 26.2 miles.  If I didn't rest and recover, I could possibly do more damage to my foot.  She gave me a walking boot, wrote me a script for an MRI, and sent me on my way.

It was all very tough to deal with.  I obviously had a lot of emotions and questions and thoughts.  Did I really have a stress fracture?  If I could run through 16 miles in pain, couldn't I do ten more?  Would it heal by January 17?  Could I refrain from running until January 17 and then just wing it at the race?  Would I really do irreversible damage to it if I kept running?

How do I tell people what happened?  So many friends and people I don't even know have been following me on this journey since September.  Some even since I became a coach right after my knee surgery.  What would they say?  I felt like a failure.

I decided to play it all by ear.  Get the MRI, see what it said, take it from there.  Meanwhile I dug myself into a nice little hole of sadness.  I felt depressed and alone.  I tried to turn things around by focusing on what I COULD do.  I lifted a lot.  I even made a pretty sweet video of lower body moves you can do off your feet.

After a week and a half and a lot of angry phone calls to my insurance company and my doctor's office, I found out that I was going to need a SECOND X-ray before I could be approved for an MRI.  By this point it was more clear than ever that my foot wasn't broken, so the whole process felt arbitrary and like a waste of money.  But a waste of money for the insurance company, so I played along.  48 hours after my second X-ray (and 18 days after my first doctor's appointment!!!), I was FINALLY able to get an MRI.

I didn't hear from the doctor's office the day after the MRI.  At that point though, I had made a few decisions.  For one thing, I had already decided I was going to run the marathon, no matter what.  I wasn't exactly sure what my plan of action would be... how long I would wait to run again, how far or how often I would run leading up to the race, I just knew I was definitely going to Arizona on January 17, and I was definitely going to finish that marathon.  I also decided I was done with the boot.  I wasn't wearing it anymore.  The whole rest of my body was jacked up from walking lopsided and I was over it.  Finally, I decided that I was going to go for a short, 2-3 mile run in my old sneakers, and see how it went.

The run went fantastic!  No pain during or after!  I wore my old shoes and made sure to ice it afterwards.  Yesterday I went rogue to work without the boot and got a visit to the chiropractor in as well.

Finally last night, the doctor called me.  According the the MRI, I didn't currently have a stress fracture, but I had some swelling, which could be a sign of a recent stress fracture that had healed.  We'll never know for sure, because it took two and a half weeks after the initial pain to get the images.  She gave me the all clear to forego the boot (good thing, since I already had) and to slowly start running again (yeah... did that too).  With her cautious blessing, marathon training could officially begin again!

So that's where we are today.  I plan on doing about three to four more runs before the new year, all five miles or less.  If those go well, I'll pick up to eight and ten miles.  There is no real time for a taper, so the week before the race, I may even do 16-20.  Then it's off to Arizona!

Did I tell you...?!

Did I tell you I'm training for my very first marathon?!

I'M TRAINING FOR MY VERY FIRST MARATHON.

I feel very excited and very much like a psycho.

I entered into running pretty reluctantly.  When I was young I played soccer and softball and I danced and did aerobics videos with my mom.  But when I got to college, all of that was gone and what was left was a gym with a treadmill.  So I got on it, and that's how I got my start.

I remember when my best friend asked me if I wanted to run a 5K with her my senior year of college.  

I thought she was a lunatic.

I legitimately trained for that run.  And listen, I KNOW how hard it is to run 3 miles when you have never run or you are not a runner.  That's why I'm telling you... I trained for that run, less than 8 years ago.  It was painful.  I thought I was running forever.  When we finished the run, I thought I was such a badass.

Less than a year later, I got this crazy idea that I should try running Broad Street, the largest 10 miler in the country.  I don't know what I was thinking, except that I could do it.

And I did it.  I remember finishing that 10 miles and thinking, "I have no desire to run a half marathon.  What psycho would run 3 more miles?"

Two and a half years later, I was that psycho.

And as I ran from mile 12 to mile 13.1, I remember thinking, "I will ABSOLUTELY do this again."

I signed up for two more half marathons (with the possibility of a marathon in the back of my brain), and with that, most definitely jinxed myself.  In January of 2014, just six weeks after my first half, a piercing pain in my knee sidelined me.  It took four months, two MRIs, PT, a knee brace, a cortisone shot, and three doctors to diagnose my mysterious injury:  Synovial Plica Syndrome.  On June 18, 2014, I had arthroscopic knee surgery and on June 19th, I signed up to be a Beachbody coach.  That day they introduced a new program called PiYo, that promised to be low-impact, especially for knees, but high-intensity.  My thought was, "Well, I won't be able to do anything else, I suppose I can do a little yoga."  You guys know my story.  PiYo taught me that I don't have to run to feel strong, healthy, and in shape.

But, four and a half months after my surgery, I ran a 10K race, and less than a year after surgery, I was reunited with my true love, the Broad Street 10 Miler.  That race sealed my fate.  I was all in, and a week later, I signed up for the Rock'n'Roll Half Marathon in Philadelphia on October 31 and the Rock'n'Roll Marathon in Phoenix, Arizona on January 17.

I truly believe things happen for a reason.  I have seen so many things happen in my life that, at the time, felt like the end of the world, but in the end turned into a lesson or a blessing of some kind.  Being able to run this marathon means more to me now than it ever would have before, had I not gotten through the surgery, become a coach, and discovered PiYo.  Of course, there is a little voice inside of me wondering if I could beat my last half marathon time of 2:08, but I keep reminding myself, that's not what THIS half marathon is about.  This half marathon is just one more triumphant return to running; another distance my healed knee was able to carry me, the halfway point to my marathon, the ultimate goal.

In the next few days, I will post my marathon training calendar, along with how I came up with it!  Thank you for all your support and for sticking with me through this!