You can do hard things:
What Running a Half Marathon Taught Me About Strength, Grief, and Showing Up
WHERE IT ALL STARTED
If you had told me a few years ago that I would voluntarily run 13.1 miles—twice—I probably would have laughed. I wasn’t athletic as a kid. In fact, I could quote sears commercials and infomercials, if that tells you anything about how much tv I consumed. Even though I grew up to love and appreciate fitness in different capacities, I never saw myself as a runner. I never even entertained the thought of running for an extended period of time because I had decided that I couldn’t run. I had told myself I wasn’t a runner. But here I am, preparing for my second half marathon, and realizing how much this journey has changed me from the inside out.
In early 2024 I felt this urge that I needed to do something big. With a 4 year old and a 1.5 year old at the time, I had felt like I needed to do something that helped me get to know myself and my capabilities again. With East Coast winters that I still wasn’t used to, I often felt stir crazy, and the days often melted into each other. I remember just for fun looking up what half-marathons were in my state, and came across the Mystic CT half marathon-a beautiful, and flat trail along the shoreline- just shy of 4 months away from this point in time. I felt it in my gut. I thought to myself “shoot am I literally going to pay money to do this”, and “Am I insane?”. My hand clicked the buttons- as if I blacked out- and all the sudden I was signed up and officially committed. I was now unable to back out.
Another thing I should mention about myself- I am a great idea person. I am a great starter. I often get inspired for a short period of time, but completely struggle with follow through and finishing. I could commit to others well, but never myself. This half marathon was something I realized I really had no choice but to finish. I couldn’t just show up unprepared. I had to commit to the entire training, AND race day. I had to see it through. Yes the journey was filled with incredible lessons, but it literally led up to one single day. The whole point was to finish.
Lessons and miles added
For the majority of that winter into spring, I ran in my basement on my treadmill. I ran in-between naps and during play time. I had old shoes that I didn’t even realize were too small (thank you two pregnancies for stretching my feet), and put on my most emotionally charged playlist (think Dr. Dre and Rage against the machine) and I just STARTED.
Each week I added on more miles, and followed the Nike run app plan. I remember calling my sister after one run and said the words “I just ran 5 miles. I just did that”. I couldn’t even believe it myself. I wanted my sons to see their mom push through something that didn’t come naturally. I wanted to show them that we can do hard things—and that sometimes, our biggest breakthroughs come when we face what we once thought was impossible.
Eventually I got better (and larger) shoes. I learned about fueling during runs, and after. I really learned what It felt like if I didn’t properly stretch, and also what my hail Mary songs were (no easy way out from the Rocky movies, thank you dad). I did shorter runs throughout the week and added miles to my long run once a week. Eventually the two and three mile runs felt like the easy ones. Eventually five miles felt like a break compared to the seven or eight I had to tackle that week. It’s amazing how you adapt.
And it’s true what they say: running is so much more mental than physical. There are days when my legs feel strong, but my mind wants to quit before I’ve even laced up my shoes. Sometimes, mile one and two are the hardest and then by mile four I forgot I was even running. Sometimes I felt amazing, sometimes I asked myself again if I was insane. Sometimes it gets worse before it gets better. Sometimes thats like life. But if you keep moving, if you just start, something shifts. The rhythm finds you . Your body adapts. And your mind follows.
This whole process has taught me to redefine my relationship with my body. I used to just want to be skinny. And if I’m honest sometimes I still hear that mean girl from middle school in my head, telling me skinny= happy. But now, most importantly- I want to be strong—mentally and physically. I want to feel what it’s like to carry myself through discomfort and come out braver on the other side. I was to age well and treat my body as the temple of the Holy Spirit that it is. I want to trust that God is going to carry me through and has given me the tools to succeed.
Running has also been a surprising space for healing. My dad passed away not long ago, and somehow, this act of running—pounding the pavement, alone with my thoughts—has helped me process grief. I picture him as my coach- saying cheesy tag lines and all the sudden I’m in the training sequence from Rocky 4 and he’s helping me carry wood through the snow in Russia (If you know you know). I feel closer to him on those long runs. It’s like we’re both still moving forward, in our own way.
RACE DAY
When Race day in 2024 came I was still not convinced I was going to finish. The night before I was even telling myself “Maybe you should go home, I mean it’s really really far”, and “you’re just not the type to do this”. But I kept remembering that whatever I decide is going to happen- is whats going to happen, so I might as well just lie to myself and say I can do it. The worst that could happen is I try and fail, but at least I tried.
It turns out. I was right. Or my lie to myself was right. And I did it. I ran the entire 13.1 miles (mostly because I was afraid if I stopped I was going to collapse) without walking at all. It was scary, and I am not fast, but I did it with approx 18 minutes to spare.
So many times throughout my run I became overwhelmed with this feeling of “IM DOING IT” right now! Which led to a lot of cry laughing, ugly crying, and feeling like a boss shuffling my feet (probably could have walked faster) to Nirvana and Eminem. After mile five or six, I remember saying to myself “OH MY GOSH IM GOING TO FINISH”. I actually couldn’t believe it. but it was true. I was shocked to think about how many years I spent telling myself I couldn’t do something when I actually could.
FINISHING WELL
That’s what I want my kids to see. That we don’t have to be the best, or the fastest—we just have to be willing to begin (and stick to it). Limits are often set long before we ever test them. But if we’re brave enough to step outside those limits, we just might find out who we really are.
It’s amazing the amount of people who mention to me when I share this story “I could just never run”, “I don’t like running”, or “I’m not a runner”. And I simply share that neither am I. But not surprisingly. Thousands of years ago, to the person who wrote in Proverbs “For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he…” Proverbs 23:7 was right.
So here I am, training again. A little more confident, and still a little scared. Not because I love running (still not sure I do), but because I love what it’s taught me. And because I want my sons to grow up knowing that their mom didn’t shrink back from hard things. She ran toward them—one mile at a time, and you can too.