After the 5K

"You aren't going to finish!" ... "You might as well stop trying." ... "You're too big, you're going to give up." ... "Failure!" ...

These thoughts were coursing through my head as I took part in the RHA Orange Run today. With little training, little knowledge, and weak ankles I began to run as soon as I heard "Go!" I stopped running after only a short time, getting winded rather quickly, but I trudged along. My friend, Melissa, walked and ran alongside me, supporting me in what was a very new experience for me. Running had never been something I enjoyed, or was able to do for long periods of time, due to my body's limitations. Inheriting your father's weak ankles certainly hinders any real running capability, not to mention the fact that my calves and shins tend to cramp and splint very easily.

Passing the 1K marker wasn't very strenuous, and I thought "I can do this!" However, my thoughts soon began to change. As we continued along, running every so often, I began to tire quickly. My legs were cramping, my footsteps became smaller, more labored, and my breathing began to become heavy. After the 1K marker, I first began to contemplated taking the short path, giving up on completing the entire 5K. Melissa pushed me, encouraging me that I had it and could do it. Despite her reinforcement, though, I was quickly beaten down. Occasionally, my steps were so painful that I teared up and wanted to collapse. Halfway into the 5K, Melissa and I were numerous yards apart; I was upset with myself, wishing I could keep up with her, but there was nothing I could do. We passed the 2K sign, and the 3K sign, and I really felt I'd reached the end of my rope.

The 3rd kilometer was the point at which I'd felt the most defeated. There were several hills, and the path was covered in mulch, which made walking even more difficult. I didn't think I could do it, and I wanted to throw in the towel. Every time I looked up, though, Melissa stood in front of me with a smile on her face. "I'm not leaving you behind. We're doing this together." That was the theme of the day. She helped me scale one steep hill, watched as I scaled others, and kept supporting me. Melissa never let me get too far behind her, despite my thoughts that she probably wanted to run far more than I could. Nearing the 4K marker, the pain was intense. I continued on, but I feared I'd never be able to get further.

A race monitor brought me a banana and a bottle of Gatorade, which did less than I'd hoped to relieve my pain (though they certainly did help). Just about 1K left, and the defeated thoughts still came. I pushed them out as much as possible. Mind over matter, I kept reminding myself. I had to push out the pain, the soreness, and my own insecurity. We rounded the final corner, and I saw the last hill in front of me. Still struggling, we began to scale it together. Closer and closer we came to the end, and a smile crossed my face. I'm doing this! I looked at all of the people who'd finished before us (which was everyone else involved in the run), but I didn't let it get to me. I began to run. "If I'm going to finish this thing, I'm finishing it running," I shouted to Melissa as I passed her. We crossed the finish line together, amidst cheers of those who'd finished far ahead. I didn't care, though. I had finished my first 5K, and I felt amazing in spite of the pain.

My first 5K was strenuous, stressful, and painful. I almost gave up several times, had to stop and stretch/catch my breath, and struggled to move through most of it. We were in last place from the beginning, and we finished last. It didn't matter, at all, because I wasn't in it to win. I wasn't even in it to place. Referencing a previous blog, this had to do with the ERL equation. I was experiencing something new. I crossed that finish line a winner. Not because I actually won, or received a medal, or even placed highly. I won because I showed myself that I could do it. I showed determination in spite of fear, pain, and thoughts of defeat. Reflecting upon this situation, I have become a stronger person for doing this. I may be sore for a couple of days, but it'll be well worth it. I look forward to new challenges, and new chances to grow.

Until next time,

Brandon