Control Yourself

On 24 April 2019, my friend and co-worker, Beth, sent me a message and asked what the odds were that I'd run a half marathon with her in November. That folks, is the day I committed myself to the mad house. As much as I tell myself I'm not good at running, and am convinced that I am not a runner, I also don't run away from a challenge.

There were 6 months to prepare for a half marathon and I was already consistently running 3-4 miles. I would have Beth to motivate and encourage me. It might be possible.

I had 3 initial fears.

1. The arch of my foot would start to fall again.
2. I was going out of the country, most likely nowhere to run, for 2 weeks in late June/early July. 
3. I wouldn't be able to run the entire 13.1 miles come race day.

The first one I knew I could control and chose to learn from my mistakes. (Insert eye roll, because I have to admit I messed up.) Once I knew I was fully committed to this half marathon thing, I went and bought my first real pair of running shoes. I know, I know, like 5 years too late, but they're expensive. So I did my research, took my mom with me to Academy to try on several pairs, and landed on navy and purple Brooks Ghost. Secondly, Beth and I made a schedule to pace ourselves. I didn't have to go out the next week and run 10 miles everyday! 

A sneak peek of the Congo River view

My second fear, and I know it sounds cliche, but I decided to trust God. Logically, I also knew once I came back from the Congo I still had 4 months until race day. Beyond that, I controlled what I could. I left on a high note and made sure to run 5 miles the day before leaving for Africa. To my surprise, and a story that will get its own separate blog post, I got the chance to run once while in the DRC. I'm not sure any run will ever top that one. How many people, especially Americans, can say they have ran along the Congo River? 

That last fear was the biggest hurdle to get over mentally. I've said before, I like to do things knowing I'll be successful. In cheerleading, I always knew I would eventually learn the dance, cheer, and stunt. In gymnastics, I knew it might take a lot of hard work, but with time I would land the front handspring, round-off back handspring. One day, I knew I'd be stubborn enough to not let my hand fall on an aerial cartwheel. The same went for band, FFA, and academics. You get the point. Running was a whole new ballgame for me, and one I didn't know what I was capable of doing or not doing. Yet again, I controlled what I could control. Practice, practice, practice. For the next 6 months, I would run like a half crazy person. Whatever happened the day of the race, at least I would know with confidence that I had prepared myself.