A Phoenix from the flames...

Well, it's been over a year and I haven't posted anything. For that, I am sorry. In the last year I have learned quite a lot and grew from my many experiences. I have been running and continue to draw parallels to life through my journey as a distance runner.
In the last year I completed two more marathons; the Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes Marathon and most recently the Phoenix Marathon.
Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes was awesome! I had my PR time of 4:20. That was on October 6th, 2013. Moving away from my goal of one marathon a year I decided to push myself and finish another marathon less than 5 months later... the Phoenix Marathon on March 1st, 2014. This is the story I want to tell... the story of Phoenix.

I like to consider myself an intuitive person. I try to listen to my gut instincts and to look at the signs around me. Something told me that I needed to be in Phoenix, that I had to go there. I felt like Santiago from the Alchemist in search of his hidden treasure. (Santiago travels from Andalusia in southern Spain to the Egyptian pyramids in search of hidden treasure, learning life lessons along the way. Santiago is a dreamer and a seeker, and he stands for the dreamer and seeker in all of us.)

For over six months the words "Phoenix" and "Arizona" were everywhere I turned. I even found a shirt that read "Ypsilanti Phoenix." There is no school in Ypsilanti with the mascot Phoenix... it was just a random shirt that put the two cities together. Mind you, I live in Ypsilanti and my calling was in Phoenix. Being as busy as I am, I could only make this trip on my mid-winter break. So I booked my ticket and, lo-and-behold, the Phoenix Marathon just happened to be on March 1st! One of the days during my break. My intention was not to run a marathon, but I couldn't let the opportunity pass and I felt it was another one of those inclinations that it was meant to be.

I know this blog is about running, and I will get to the part of where running plays it's part but I need to paint the entire picture. 

Running for me has always been relatively easy. All Praises due to God, I have never had a knee injury or any serious pain/damage. I truly enjoy running and the parts that are tough are the mental blocks where I feel I want to give up but I know I can push through and come out on the other side.

So the morning of the marathon comes and I feel good. I didn't do anything extra or special to prepare for this marathon. Just the usual running my regular 5-6 days a week. Most of my running was on the treadmill due to the snow and ice in Michigan, but I was running quite regularly and at a great pace. I even bought new running shoes (Mizunos... I never wore Mizunos before. I'm usually an Asics or New Balance girl.) I rarely stretch before or after a run (never really had to, and I KNOW that's not smart... I know, I know.) So here I am the morning of the run and I feel confident. I start the run and I am doing great, I am just where I want to be. I am following the pace team of 4:00 hrs... I cross the 13.1 mile mark (halfway point) at 2:03 hrs and I feel fine up until mile 18. 

What happened at mile 18?

I, honestly, do not know. 

There was a pain on the side of my right knee. I didn't want to stop because I knew if I stopped running I would not be able to pick up the pace again. The pain became so intolerable that I had to stop. I stopped and the pain was excruciating when I tried to run on it again. I no longer could put any more pressure on my right leg. People were so kind... I had someone show me a stretch that might help. A lady gave me ibuprofen (probably the only time/place I'd accept pills from a stranger), a man brought me a bottle of water, people were clapping and cheering with encouraging words, but my body was spent. Not going to lie... the idea of getting on the medical truck was so tempting but the OCD in my personality told me that I had to finish even if I walked to the finish line. That's exactly what I did... I walked/dragged my right leg with me and even started to cry. I cried because I knew that my mind wouldn't let me gracefully step out of the run. There were points that I tried to run again but the pain was too much. And this is where I had my epiphany....

Let it go!

Let go....

Running has always been fun and enjoyable, but if it's hurting me and can possibly do harm to me then I shouldn't push it. So I let myself walk and finish the run. (I did run across the finish line because I felt I had to finish as a runner.) When I was walking I realized there's no point in pushing something further if you know it's only going to bring you pain. This wasn't a mental block, this was an actual physical pain and my body was talking to me and telling me that I needed to give it a break. I realized I am not in control of this body. I have been blessed with this gift and I have to take care of it. I am proud of myself for finishing what I started, but I have walked away with so much insight. It's not just about the run... I came to the run with lots of baggage/thoughts/memories and the lesson I've learned is that it's okay to let go. You have to give your all to whatever you set your mind to, but you also have to know when to say enough is enough. I will still continue to run, but I will also take better precautions. I will listen to my body and I will acknowledge that I am not in control and I have to submit my will to a greater force (God/Allah/the Universe... what have you.)

In the past I have likened myself to a Phoenix. I am a person who is constantly evolving and searching.... there are times where I feel like a Phoenix at the end of it's life. I com-bust into flames and rise again from those very ashes a new person. 

If you read this far... thank you. I hope there was some benefit from this or at least enjoyment in reading my story. I love running. I always will. I will continue to run. My advice is to take care of yourself first. Any race/run is not a competition with anyone... it is a personal journey to growth and development.