Even now, with so much time having gone by, the whole experience is so surreal to me. I can't tell you how I made it through those 13.1 miles or even what I was thinking because I honestly don't know. I remember the excitement and adrenaline pumping through my body as I stood at the starting line waiting for my wave to go. I remember cruising through the first three miles. I remember getting to the Ambassador Bridge and realizing that I never thought to train for an incline (let alone the multiple ones I would encounter). I remember how gorgeous it was to be running across the Bridge at sunrise and being able to see how beautiful downtown Detroit is.
Canada was an interesting part of my run. I stopped to use the bathroom not too long after I got into the country and it completely messed up my rhythm. After the bathroom break, I was running much slower and really starting to get into a bad head space. It was never a "I can't do this" but more of a "I am completely alone in this." A morale boost was desperately what I needed and unfortunately it wasn't going to come while I was in Canada. The entrance to the Tunnel back to the States was either mile 7 or 8 and when I saw that mile marker I almost started crying. I have absolutely no idea why, but I definitely got teary eyed. Luckily for me, my iPod chose that moment to start playing "Party in the USA" by Miley Cyrus and all I could do was start laughing at how perfect the timing was on that. I like to think of it Canada's morale boost to me.
Running through the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel was pretty fun (once again minus the incline). What got me through was knowing my parents were on the other side of the Tunnel waiting for me. As soon as I ran through customs I started looking for them everywhere. I don't think I can describe what it felt like to find them and know they were there for the sole purpose of cheering me on. I received a quick hug from the Madre (without really stopping) and went on my way. That emotional boost was exactly what I needed, though, to make it through the last leg of my race.
Those final five miles were some of the best of the entire race because we were able to run though different neighborhoods and see some really beautiful parts of the city. On the other hand, the final three miles felt like the longest miles of my life. The closer to the finish line I got, the slower time went. I had reached the point where I was only able to run for one song and then I had to walk for a song (or two). It was also in those final miles that my body decided it had had enough. My calves started seizing, my thighs were twitching uncontrollably and my left knee felt like it wanted to give out at any minute. I stopped to stretch a couple of times, but that only helped for a minute or two. I completely reverted back to the mentality I had when I had a difficult swim practice: "This will all be over in 45 minutes. This will all be over in 20 minutes. I'm going to be done in less then 10 minutes." Putting it into a time perspective somehow always helps me.
The last .3 miles of the race was a straight shot to the finish line. When I reached that point, a guy yelled at us "Only .3 miles left! You can do it!" I muttered to myself, "I just ran almost 13 miles. I sure as fuck hope I can finish this!" That earned me an unintentional laugh from a woman running next to me. Seeing that finish line definitely gave me a new shot of adrenaline. Jay Z started singing "Empire State of Mind" and even though it was about the wrong city, I told Jay to sing me home. I kept on moving, singing to myself and when I reached the 13 mile marker I somehow convinced my body to sprint across the finish line. I wanted to finish strong and I did just that with a huge smile on my face accompanied by a fist pump. It was a pretty epic moment for me.
After that, I received my medal, felt my entire body finally give out, head directly to the massage tent in hopes that I'd be able to walk again and lastly meet up with my family. They had all found each other already so I was the last person to join the party. I'm not going to lie, the cheers and round of applause I received as I walked up to them with my arms spread wide open showing off my medal felt pretty damn good. That is the moment I will remember forever: seeing how happy and proud my family was of me. All of them knew what a huge personal accomplishment finishing the half marathon was for me and seeing their support meant more to me then anything else.
The next few days passed in a fun haze of limping and extremely sore muscles. I believe I looked like I had a pegged leg from the way I limped around. I liken the pain I felt to that I experienced after my car accident a few years back. Just like in that car accident, I beat the shit out of my body running that half marathon and it took some time to recover. I can honestly say, though, that every ounce of that pain was worth it because I can say that I ran a half marathon. That is a sense of pride and accomplishment that nobody can ever take away from me. Plus, it makes me even more of a badass then I already was.
