Shelly’s Journal

Exercise has been a hard discipline this spring. Schedules, motivation, ambitions have all swirled together and left me scattered at times. Exercise is the thing that loses out in the midst of all this shuffling. April has been the best month for me this year, but every day I still fight to squeeze in the time.

Today, I slipped away for a 58 minute run. Most running days, I try and push myself in the 5-6 mile range because I might only run 3 times this week and I want to get the most bang. I take the extra 10 minutes here in case I don’t get that chance to go out the door.

I hit the road about 10 am, which is late in the day for me. I prefer the early morning runs,with a little chill in the air. By the time my rubber met the road, the sun was making short order of shade and the temps had climbed into the low 70s. Definitely, not my favorite weather.

I think that every run is different. I find a variety of ways to push myself, to challenge myself, to get faster and stronger. As I walk out that door, I really never know what the challenge will be until I’m there in the midst of it. This morning, I found the weather to be challenging as I lost my shade on the toughest part of the course. I don’t carry water on these shorter runs, so there is really no relief until I hit one of the few shades patches and then finally get to what we call the “woods” - a part of the trail that has woods on one side and houses on the other. It’s usually shady and in summertime once the leaves are fully on the trees, makes for a cool final mile in a run.

It was in the woods where I found the biggest challenge.

Pace. I stink when it comes to pacing. My Garmin has shown me that. Most days my data has me up and down, back and forth on speed. But it’s on those rare gems where my lines are smooth and steady that I find my best runs. So how do I get there. My last mile in the woods was my attempt at maintaining.

I knew my distance. I knew what I had left. So I tried to keep pace at the highest level possible. No, I was not running full out, but trying to get in rhythm and stay there or crank it up a notch if I could. The heat had faded behind the shade trees. The path was familiar. And so I pushed it.

At one point I decided that I felt like I was running up against a wall, trying to push it forward or maybe running in water. But I didn’t back down. I kept trying to turn it up. Or maybe it just felt that way.

Looking at my stats afterward, I did if for a very short distance, probably almost half a mile. It felt like more. But at least I was out there and working hard, burning calories and moving my muscles.

I’d been languishing in the post sickness doldrums, still not feeling like doing anything. This was a few days ago when Gil was occupying my sewing room in the midst of his sickness. I got inspired…inspired to exercise. I didn’t really want to, but my bedroom is my nighttime retreat. With it locked up, essentially, I had no where to turn.

I had a new Cathe DVD that I had gotten for Christmas, but never tried because of the rotator cuff thing that is still persisting. It’s called “Butts and Guts” and target’s your core and glutes. I’d watched it, but until I saw a PT last week, couldn’t confirm that I could actually do the exercises. With a little modification, I was ready to go. Well, kind of.

After the warm-up, the first segment is standing glutes. It starts with walking lunges, cascades into one-legged squats, dead lifts, and more squats. After two rounds, I hit the fire walkers - man they burn. Then a few more squat/lunge segments. Whew, and I wasn’t done yet.

Next it was the floor with ankle weights and so many exercises that I can’t even remember. I pushed through it, resting often. Then I hit abs. Youch! It was one tough segment. I didn’t get to finish up the stretches because of the needs of my dog…who had been pestering me since I hit the floor. I also didn’t get to the bonus section. I felt like I had done my share.

The next day, I wasn’t sore at all, except for my shoulder. Or, so I thought. Around 4 PM, the legs began to let me know that they had registered the workout, and overnight my abs lit up. Whoa! It really was some workout.

I want to mention that I am so out-of-shape in these areas of my body that I couldn’t do all of the exercise and had to modify on some. On the one-legged squats, I stopped part way through and just did a regular squat for the remainder of that portion. On a few of the floor exercises, I removed the ankle weights. I went down on the weights from what she was using. I also had a more limited range of motion on some exercises, and I went as far as I could.

Once upon a time, I used to think that a workout was too hard if I couldn’t do it just like the instructor. I’m a little more humble these days and up for the challenge of being able to work through this workout with less troubles and modifications.

Today, I have my energy back. I’ve done a million things - including running, taking my kids to Jamestown, making a huge supper, washing my floor, sending out packages, shopping, taking Bump for a bike ride…and the list goes on. Sometimes, all it takes is a little exercise to jump start that engine.

Next on my list - our taxes…maybe that can wait until another night.

Typically this is the time of year where we have a tendency to look at ourselves and try to do something different to make our lives better - that New Year’s Resolution. I have never been one to embrace such ventures, but usually like to look back to see what has evolved in the last year and encourage myself to continue the truths and pursuits that are the core in my life.

This year has been a lot about health and fitness. I took a look at my last year’s Christmas photos. I still looked pregnant in a way. I was 162 lbs. and wearing size 12-14 clothes. I had started back on the exercise trail, but things were slow going. Even in March at Bump’s birthday party, I looked horrible. I still was up in the 160s. I’d toned up a little to now squeeze into some 10s, but 12s were still more comfy. It was time to get serious.

By June, I’d gotten down into 8s, now weighed in the upper-140s. I was running 20-30 miles a week and doing weight training 2-3 times a week. While weight losses became much slower to come by, I still trimmed up. By the end of summer, I was back to my pre-pregnancy size, although still 5 lbs. up - probably a muscle mass issue (you know, muscle DOES really weigh more than fat.)

Fall brought jean season back - and all my favorites fit. It was so exciting. I continued to work out and as winter came into focus, the weight started dropping a little more. Now my miles are only about 15-20 per week. I was lifting 2x per week before my shoulder injury, and was starting to see the difference big time as I pushed myself a little to lift heavier weights.

And then Gil said, “You know, those jeans don’t fit you.” I was standing at the sink rinsing out some dishes, wearing my favorite jeans and feeling comfy. I stopped. I knew what he said was true. My favorite jeans - both pairs of them - had become too big for me. (Actually they were becoming a little ratty, too since I bought them in 2001.)

A year ago, all I wanted was to get back into my old clothes - to lose my post-pregnancy paunch. But I didn’t have much aspiration to push beyond that. My clothes didn’t fit. I wanted them to.

Along the way, I began to realize that exercise gave me many things that had been lacking in my life. I slept harder and needed less sleep. I had more energy and fewer weary moments. While I still wanted naps, I didn’t need as many of them. I could keep up with my kids better and my mind seemed clearer and more focused. I work out a lot of things in my head when I exercise - it’s a big stress reliever as well. And, it gives me a little liberty with my diet.

I don’t “diet”. I try to eat good foods, but have embraced a life of comfort eating. I graze, eating small portions of food here and there. Some of these portions are not so good for me, but I eat them in smaller quantities. They are my treats of the day. But I also eat good stuff - salads, fruit, whole grains - you know the foods. And somehow it works. I get my burritos and guacamole. I enjoy eating when I eat.

I’m not writing about all this to brag about my accomplishments, but to encourage so many of you who I know struggle with food, exercise and how your clothes fit. It’s worse in so many ways for women - especially the eating part. Gil just drastically cuts back on his eating when he’s trying to shed a few pounds. But he’s not handling food all day - buying it, preparing it, thinking about what to prepare, feeding it to others. All he has to do is worry about him. I live in my kitchen. I feed my kids, my husband, my dog and me. I’m constantly in the fridge or pantry for something or other. I plan to grocery shop, I shop, I read ads, I clip coupons. I search for easy recipes - online, in books and magazines, in my own recipe box. I prepare. I think about when I’m going to have time to prepare. I take things out of the freezer. I clean out the fridge. I wash and put away dishes. Very few moments go by in the crux of my day where I’m not food involved. I know it is the same for you.

I say to you - baby steps. Start making those little changes today. Walk for 20 minutes. Pass up dessert. Order salad instead of a hamburger. Drink water. Eat dinner on a salad plate instead of a dinner plate. Look at an exercise DVD or a class or whatever fits your schedule. Check thrift stores for used exercise equipment - or the newspaper. You know you better than I know you, so experiment and figure out what works. And do be discouraged by small setbacks. Don’t weigh yourself every day. Do a little more each time. Just a little. And while you won’t lose 20 lbs. in 2 weeks, at this time next year, you too could be saying…”Wow, what a difference a year makes!”

The race is not always to the swift, but to those who keep on running.

No, I didn’t come close to touching the times of the women who won the Rock and Roll Marathon. (1 hour and 11 minute times), but the victory was not having the best time. Winning meant doing my best, pushing myself hard and persevering.

It was the race of my life.

At 6:30 AM I was watching the sun come up over the group of 20,000 starters lined up along 19th street in Virginia Beach. Back in corral 14, there were some 13,000 runners ahead of me. I was in a corral where the projected finish time would be 2:15. In my training, I really hadn’t come close to touching a time like that. I ran a 2:25 for my last training run - not including a 5 minute break I took at mile 11. But, I had no idea what I would run when I signed up, so 2:15 was where I was.

Corral by corral, we were released onto the race course - in 90 second intervals. Finally, some 7 minutes into the race, I crossed the starting line. Down the road we went, slowly at first. Even in a group of 1000, (verses 20,000) traffic is a little tight. It’s a mix of people too slow for a 2:15 pace or too fast. There are always those who start slow or fast. Basically you’re looking for seems and running slower when you get stuck behind people.

I saw Gil and company at about the half mile mark. It was a fleeting glance as I turned the first corner of the race - heading off into the distance. I probably wouldn’t see him again for many miles.

My neice-in-law, Jen, caught up with me shortly after that, and we rant together for a mile and a half. But she’s a bit faster and I let her go when she was pacing too high for me. We saw the leaders already coming onto mile 7 or 8 - going in the opposite direction.

After Jen left me, I had a lot of fun. I said hi to a lot of people on the side lines who cheered for us. I rocked with every band we passed on the course. (1 at each mile, hence the name “Rock and Roll” half marathon.) I high fived a lot of little kids. I thanked aid station workers for water and sports drink. I cheered for every mile I finished. And somehow, I was running sub 10 minute miles through the whole thing.

Now here’s the kicker - I probably have only two runs through this whole training time where I kept under 10 minute mile average. And they were 3 or 4 mile runs. But, I rode the adrenaline on this run, took advantage of the cool temps and the flat course, and just kept pacing.

At six miles, I settled down some. I was still dodging people. My Garmin showed me to be about .15 miles ahead of the course mileage. I guess it was all that bobbing and weaving.

I ate power gels and took water at every turn. I still enjoyed the fans, but acknowledged them with less boisterous methods. And I kept it under 10. Amazing.

We hit the one hill on the course, the bridge where I’d originally seen the leaders coming back. It hurt, but I pushed up it in the sea of people. Once we were over the bridge, I kept expecting to see Gil, but the miles kept adding up, and he was no where in sight. Finally before mile 10, I saw him and Bump on the side. I ran over to kiss my little boy, and ran off. I was hanging right at 10s at that point, and desperate for a water stop so I could eat another power Gel. I got it and knew the most grueling part of the course was yet to come - the last two miles along the beach in full sun.

We turned the corner and hit mile 11. I could see the finish yard banner 2 miles away. It was a long two mile. My pace slowly began to slip off. My feet hurt. I ran under every little sprinkler they had down this stretch. I dumped two cups of water on my head. And I kept running. Many people stopped and walked, but I had come too far and too fast (for me) to stop now. Even though many got the big “kick” at the end, I had spent all my energy on the course, keeping pace on my other miles knowing that dropping off on this last mile some would not hurt my time as much as if I did it at mile 8 or so. I still pushed, trying desperately to at least keep it in the 10s. The rest of the race seemed like a moment, and this stretch - eternity.

Someone yelled, “Only eight blocks left.” I thought to myself that still sounds like a long way.

Finally, I saw the 13 mile marker and the last tenth to the finish line. The crowds jammed the area, and I got a little burst to push me across the line - under 2:15. Amazing! I cried. I sobbed, and I searched for water. I’d given it everything I had, and left nothing out there. Yet here I was surrounded by strangers, who all understood and yet they didn’t. They understood the 13.1 mile journey we’d all taken, but not the 40 years it had taken me to get here.

I got my water, a cold rag, my medal, my chip clipped and then went through all the freebee areas, grabbed some snacks and headed to find Gil. Zach was crying when I walked up, but before I took him from Allie, I knelt down next to Bump and put the medal around his neck. He said, “Thanks Mommy. Good job Mommy.” I grabbed my little tank and snuggled him.

And then we walked 26 blocks to find our van.

I think I’m still on a high from it all.

I finished in the low 7000s overall, 3000s for women and 300s for age group. 17,000 finished the race.

I want to send out a big thank you to all of the spectators, cheerleaders, bands and especially volunteers working the 2007 Rock and Roll Half Marathon at Virginia Beach. The volunteers make it all possible - from corral directions, course marshals, water stop and aid workers, those handing out everything under the sun in the post race areas and many more who I never saw or knew were there, I say thank you. Thank you for making this day so special for me and for the others who had their own personal journeys and stories to tell.

It’s only 3 days until my half marathon. That’s right 13.1 miles up and down the streets of Virginia Beach, VA…with 19,999 of my closest friends. Yikes! Was I kidding when I signed up for this race? I’m not good in groups you know. Good thing I don’t have to talk to anyone! I’d be totally freaked out.

I did my last real training run today. 5.5 miles. It was a great run. I felt good even in the last mile which is on gravel and through horsefly country. The AM temps are really cooling down here. It’s funny how you know that suddenly summer is almost over. But I was glad to be running in 70 degree overcast weather. What a difference!

I’ve also been partaking in a few more carbs these last days. This technique is affectionately known to the running set as carbo loading. Most big races usually have a big pasta feed the night before the race where runners can get together and talk and load up. We’ll have our own little pasta fest on Saturday evening.

Other than my new bunion. (Boo. Hiss) I am ready to go. I’ll see a podiatrist in a few weeks to figure out the next phase of my foot trama.

I read today that the NY Marathon had 98,000 applicants to run - they accept around 38,000. Gil ran it with 30,000 some 10 years ago, and it was a madhouse. You might wonder how this is possible to run at these great numbers - at least all you non-runners. About 10 years ago, the running community started embracing “chip” technology to track runners and times. You get a little chip in with your number. The chip is attached to your shoelaces. The chip tracks a runner as they run the race - from start to finish line. Instead of starting all the runners at once, they are started in waves. My race will start 1000 people per wave with a 2-3 minute interval. I think for the NY marathon, they are going to be starting people half the day. This is my first race where I will run with a chip.

On a family note, marathons and half-marathons are great family adventures - not for running, but for watching and volunteering. My father often took us to watch portions of our hometown marathon (Paavo Nurmi Marathon). I still remember enjoying it. When we were in Richmond, I volunteered for a few Richmond Marathons. It was a wonderful experience and truly great to cheer on some of the weary runners while helping them along. A lot of scout troops will man water stops. I think children should be older to participate, but also watching is lots of fun.

I’m starting to ramble and scramble, so I’m going to check out.

That’s how many calories I burned yesterday in my 11.4 mile run. Yes, that is a long way. It’s not 13.1 miles, but it’s a good chunk of time - 2 hours and 9 minutes. Not to mention I pulled a groin muscle lifting weights on Saturday, so it way painful, too. All in all, it had it’s ups and down. It took me a long time to get warmed up. Once I got past 7 miles, it hurt to stop. So I just kept running. I ran my last 2.44 miles at the same average pace as my first 2.5. That’s kind of weird, all things considered.

When I was done, I wanted to slaughter a cow. Yes, I needed fat, protein and I needed it now! I settled instead for fajitas. I napped and took care of my kids, hung out with my family.

These bodaciously wild thunderstorms rolled into town in the evening, sending Casey into a frenzy and me to the porch with a beer Cherry Coke to watch and chill. I was physically exhausted, but my mind wouldn’t stop.

Since Gil was in the sewing room with the lights out (sleeping) that left me with the option of going to sleep or watching TV. I finished up watching the last of the Numb3rs series - I’ve seen all 3 seasons now - and sat with my quivering hound. Finally I tried to go to sleep and slept fitfully (no, not the caffeine).

Baby Zach decided he needed to get up at 5:30 AM. Since Ally is visiting for soccer camp this week, he’s sleeping in Bump’s room. Which means they were both up at 5:30. While I tried to crash on the living room floor in the midst of them, it just didnt’ work.

Then the real storm came.

It was a big darn storm and it just hung over us for like an hour or so. We were watching it on the porch for a while, until Zach screamed over the loud sounds. Finally things calmed down.

And I am still tired and unmotivated and wondering if I can really go to sleep at 8:30. And also thinking that having two little ones is hardly the time of your life to go burning 1338 calories.

Exercise. Exercise. Exercise. While my almost daily workouts only last an hour or so, I find them chewing into my brain at all hours of the day. This is the point where the hard work finally pays off, and I realize that I might actually fit into all of my old clothes again, my belly might look more like a six pack than a bowl full of jelly and that I may find pleasure in long runs.

I am turning a corner.

The last weeks of training have challenged me to the point of almost breaking my spirit. I’ve cried in frustration at times, feeling like I can’t run another step, much less 13.1 miles. My 10 mile run this past week left me exhausted to the point of necessary sleep, and many aches and pains. And it’s HOT. I could care less if I ever see another dumbbell again. Gil’s change of schedule has pulled him out of our running routine which leaves me pushing 60 lbs. worth of kids on my weekday runs.

But then there’s that corner.

I fit into 2 pairs of pants that I couldn’t fit into 2 weeks ago. I’ve had to buy new bras a size smaller. I’ve noticed a little muscle definition in my quads and my shoulders. I picked up Bump while wearing Zach on my back with no problems. A few of my weight training exercises are becoming almost easy - even with recently increased weights.

But the battle continues.

I’ve come to understand that I may never weigh the 133 that I want to. My muscles may keep me at a higher weight. I’m still at 147. But I may get into those old clothes and then some. I may set a new exercise goal after the half marathon. And then the fall comes. Cool temps and great runs.

The pursuit continues.

I’ve recently taken up weight lifting as part of my exercise routine. I do a series of videos from the Get Ripped series. Each segment is about 50 minutes long and works upper body and some lower body (squats and lunges) along with abs. The workouts are high rep/low weight and designed to build muscle, but not bulk.

Since I’ve started this regiment about 6 weeks ago, I feel stronger. All of my little aches and pains are gone. Playing with my children has become easier. I can pick them up and wrestle on the floor or climb into a fort without as much pain. As I am hitting the big 4-0 later this month, my doctors tell me this will help me in many areas, including building bone mass.

Here’s a photo of our weight training area. We have a bench, dumbbells, barbells (aren’t my little 10 and 15 lb ones cute?), an aerobic step and mat (peeking from behind the bag.) We also have a bag for some kick boxing and punching workouts. I can’t tell you what a difference lifting has made in helping me with those, too.

And while I’m building muscle, I’m losing inches. Building muscles means I burn more calories with every motion including keystrokes. That’s good news! I’ve already lost more than one clothing size since I introduced weights into my exercise routine.

I’m also a runner. Well, I’m coming back to running after about a 5 year absence. You can read all about my training and my daily exercise routine on my fitness blog - Eat Less. Move More.

This post is part of Works for Me Wednesday, hosted by Rocks in My Dryer. Stop by to see all of the great ideas bloggers have!

We ran today, a long ways. 7.5 miles. My longest run yet. I’m still in preparation for the half marathon which is 13 weeks away. I’m also lifting weights 2-3 times a week. I feel great most of the time. About once a week everything catches up with me and I have to crash for a while. But on a day to day basis, I have more energy, both mental and physical.

Gil has been running with me the last two weeks. He takes the stroller and goes off on these little runs and meets me back around. He stops to look at frogs, ducks and lily pads. And he even teaches lessons to his boys in the stroller. Today he packed along a tape measure for the ride. Now Bump LOVES the tape measure. Next to the flashlight, it’s his favorite thing from the toolbox. All along the route, Gil would stop and have Bump measure things - sticks mostly - but he let him use the measuring tape. You know, push the red button and everything. And Bump knows the numbers, so he can read it. While Bump is a far cry from fully understanding why and what he’s doing, I expect him to suddenly understand someday what it all means.

And no, they didn’t let me beat them. I ran 90 minutes and 7.5 miles. I forgot to mention my mother’s day gift was a Garmin Forerunner GPS unit like this one. It tells you all kinds of things about your run as you’re running - speed, pace, heartrate, distance, time, calories, etc. Then when you get home, you hook it to your PC and it gives you graphs and charts. It is Shelly’s dream running device. I sit here and stare at my data and analyze it. I used to do manual entry from my pedometer in the good old days. This is so much cooler. Gil will also use it biking. We had to get a higher priced model with the stronger GPS unit because we live in a low lying area where things like cell phones, xm radio, regular radio and such often fade in and out. But this baby works like a charm so far.

I’m still doing my weights as well and feeling stronger every day. I can even do push ups. I can do about 15 on my knees and 2 on my toes. That’s up from 0 and 0 in January.

Ah, the rush of exercise and learning to boot!

I started running 10 years ago. I wrote about my experience on our computer and have kept that file all these years. I was 29 at the time and had just had my 2nd knee surgery two years previous. Oh how the times have changed. Read it and weep!

I ran my first race today, and I won. I didn’t finish first, but I won.

It seems like such a long time since I’ve been athletically inclined. A downhill skiing injury at age 11 took me out of the ranks long ago. The surgery techniques of the day would not bring me back. Two years ago, a second surgery gave me new life and a knee I never dreamed possible.

It has been a slow comeback, and running is not the sport of choice for me. The impact is still rough on my joints, and I understand my limitation in that I could never train to be a serious runner. But in the meantime, I’m still an athlete.

I started running four months ago. My boyfriend is a runner, and it was a good opportunity for us to work out together. The first day that I ran, I overdid it and was sore for 3 days. But I took it a bit at a time – under his guidance and encouragement.

I started with 10 minutes and worked my way to 20. I’d just started doing 30’s, when this race came up. We wanted to do a 5K together, but there wasn’t one in the immediate area. The closest one was an 8K. I had never run five miles before, and I struggled back and forth in my mind on whether it was something I could do. I wondered how well my knee would take the pounding. I wondered if I had the endurance to run 5 miles.

I decided to run. I had a strategy. I would run the first two, walk mile three where needed (there was a hill on this mile.) And then kick it on home. I had two goals – to finish under 54 minutes and to not be the last person in the field to cross the finish line.

Race day came. We were a little late in getting down there. It was a cool, crisp morning for April. I wore a long sleeve shirt under my T-shirt because I hate the cold.

There were 101 runners signed up to go. There were a lot of questions in my head. My boyfriend Gil was running, too. He offered to come back down the course and find me after he finished. I declined. This was my race to run.

Coming out of the blocks, I was the very last person around the first corner. It was a place I did not want to be. There were 6 women running abreast in front of me, and I couldn’t get past. This turned out to be a good thing. I quickly settled into my usual running pace.

The first mile seemed long, but I felt good. Just before the mile mark, I really started to get warm and took off my long sleeved shirt and tied it around my waste. I am definitely not a traditional runner.

I was running step for step with a high school girl. I kept waiting for her to step up and pass me. After all, I’m just an old lady with a bum knee. By mile one I had passed her. The timekeeper bellowed “nine minutes.”

This seemed to be a little faster of a pace than I wanted. I didn’t want to burn it out, so I stepped it down and settled in. The girl did not come up on me. Mile 2 – 18:24.

My right hip was starting to get a little sore. I often had this problem – even after a good warm-up. I passed a few more people who had fallen off the pace. I knew the hill would be coming up soon. It wasn’t a nasty hill. It was a long incline. I shortened my stride to climb it. I breezed up. At the top I reached mile 3 – 27:42.

The coarse would double back on itself for part of the run. It was here that Gil and I crossed paths and did the high five. “Swell up, keep on going,” he shouted.

I could hardly believe that I was still running. I was reaching the point where I usually fall off. I knew there was a water station on this mile. I hoped it wasn’t far away.

There were about 13 little boys handing out water. They all wanted to give one to me. I tried to gulp it down while running. I spilled it all over me. The crowd cheered me as I went through. I had run this race with barely a runner beside me. I stepped it up.

I was starting to breathe heavily. I lengthened my stride to try and bring my breathing back in order. I saw a woman ahead of me stop several times and walk a little. All I knew is that I wanted to pass her. She started back up again. I knew I had to conserve my energy for the last mile. We hit four and I was two steps behind her – 36:54.

Now it was one mile. I was still running. There were a few people behind me. This was my time to roll. This was all the races I should have, could have run with two good knees. I thought back to my brief junior high track career and my 1/2 mile run of doom. Burning out too quickly and barely finishing. I had a chance now to achieve my goals. I pushed onward.

A race side attendant told us there was 7/10 of a mile left. Most of the coarse was to be down hill from here. I pushed past the injured woman and passed a few other people who had run out of gas. Ahead of me were two women who had blocked the road at the start of the race. That was my focus now.

I tried to pass one initially, but she fought me off. I wasn’t really sure how far there was left to go. By this time the pain in my hip was picking up and my knee started to tingle. I didn’t want to burn out. But I wanted to pass both of them.

They pulled up side by side, and I stayed two steps behind them. We finally wound through the streets and I could see the finish line. Someone yelled out. “You guys could break 45!”

That and the finish line took me through. I reached down inside to find my kick. I stepped it up and blew right passed to two women. The crowd went crazy. I crossed the finish line in 45:08.

My breath came in gulps and Gil walked to my side to give me water and a hug. My biggest fan. I found my kick from the little runs that we did together. I always tried to win at the end. He never lets me. But today I knew I could beat them. Today was my day.

I iced my knee and ate fruit and drank water. Gil tells me I was shaking, but I was still in such a rush, I couldn’t believe it.

They finally posted the results. I finished 75th out of 86 runners who completed the coarse. Far from being the last. Another surprise was that I finished second in my age group and got a trophy! I had won several for academics during the course of my life, but never for athletics.

It was a magnificent day of personal achievement for me. For the times I believe that I could never experience athleticism. I shattered my goals. And today for the first time, I really believed that “I am an athlete!!”