Let’s start at the beginning…

Mile 0: I had some interesting happenings getting to the race itself, above and beyond not being able to walk without pain 11 months ago, training in lots of snow, and generally pushing myself above and beyond what I thought I could accomplish.

Last month, after we realized my husband couldn’t make it to the race, my parents went to book a room in the city. I pulled up my reservation to tell them which hotel I was staying at, only to realize I booked my hotel room at the Radisson for Sunday night, not Saturday night. After panicking on twitter briefly, I made a quick call, only to be met with a negative answer. I bought the “web price only” package, so I couldn’t change my reservation. The Cleveland Marathon twitter team responded and tried to help out, but they were met with the same answers. They even tried to find me another room downtown, but at that point, everything was sold out. My parents did get the last room in downtown at University Hotel and Suites, which was about 2.2 miles from the start line. It wasn’t the worst hotel I ever stayed in; I wouldn’t recommend it but I wouldn’t avoid staying there if it was the last room in the city again.

On Saturday morning, I took the boys to their baseball games. Then I packed, because why would I pack before the last minute? My mother-in-law arrived to watch LittleBrother, so BigBrother and I hit the road around 2:00pm for Cleveland. We had an easy, uneventful drive and arrived easily at the IX Center for the Race Expo. The Expo was a decent size, though I wish they would have had a handheld map (or, hey guys, it’s 2013, an app!) to maneuver through the booths and such. I eventually asked someone working the Expo where to find my bib, picked it up, got my goody bag with a beautiful, v-neck tech shirt, grabbed a green, circular 13.1 sticker, checked out some really pretty running skirts, waited while BigBrother made me a sign at the American Greetings booth, eyeballed some shoes though I think I’m a loyal Mizuno runner now, and then we left. If I wouldn’t have had BigBrother, I might have lingered longer, but he did very well.

I arrived at the hotel, registered my car so they didn’t tow it out of the parking lot (because, HEY! FREE PARKING!), and went upstairs to meet my parents. We were all hungry at that point, so we decided to go just out of downtown (since it was crazy busy with all the runners) and hit Steelyard Commons for dinner. I had a big bowl of pasta. We got back to the hotel room, I checked in with my sister-in-law, took a hot shower, called my husband and lights were out in our hotel room at 8:30pm.

But not before a great text from my mother-in-law:

Booey was tired from bouncing at a birthday party for an hour.

The alarm went off at 4:30. In the morning. I panicked that the coffee pot was broken and that I had pink eye. It turned out that the coffee pot wasn’t plugged in and that I most likely just have some wicked allergies or an irritation. After some laughter, I got dressed and woke up BigBrother. He flailed around in bed and said, “I can’t believe my Mom woke me up in the middle of the night.” More laughter. My sister-in-law arrived, we all piled into her car and tried to make our way to Cleveland Browns stadium before the road closures started at 6:00am. However, Cleveland is in a constant state of construction, so it took a little bit to find our way around some other road closures. We parked in a small lot next to the FBI (who were geared up and waiting to move out, by the way) and walked just under a mile to the stadium.

We eventually found the starting line and the 10:00/mile corral. I said goodbye to my family. And then the people in front of me started to move.

Mile One: As we headed up and onto the Shoreway, I wondered why they advertise the Cleveland course as “flat and fast.” The hills didn’t quite phase me as I did most of my training in my rather hilly neighborhood, but the hills definitely caught other runners off guard. I tried to find a decent pace, but there was absolutely no elbow room yet. I felt good, but couldn’t pick up speed. Split: 10.22

Mile Two: At this point, still climbing a small hill with no elbow room, someone spilled Gatorade down the back of my legs. This becomes important later in the race. Immediately, the back of my knees began sticking to the back of my knees. I was less than pleased, but began to weave through some runners who found the hills to be not-so-fun. I felt thankful for the light cloud cover, but it was still very humid. Split: 9:30.

Mile Three: I fell into a groove, as I usually do around mile three of any long run. I found myself smiling and enjoying the race. Until I realized that due to the Gatorade spill, the tongue of my shoe was rubbing and sticking to the front of my ankle with every single step. I knew it wasn’t going to feel good soon. Split: 9:38

Mile Four: The rubbing tongue on my ankle didn’t feel good. It was starting to burn and it was distracting me from my run. I said a prayer. I asked God to take my mind off of the rubbing and the burning feeling. This comes into play in just a little bit. At this point, we were in the Edgewater area which was my favorite to run through; it was tree covered and road was in the best condition on the whole course. I did hit the water stop, accidentally grabbing Power Ade (Berry, ew), so my time dipped a bit here as it was my first water stop ever. Split: 10:05

Mile Five: I began to wonder at this point how people write race recaps explaining every little thing, because I didn’t remember passing the five mile marker. Split: 9:50

Mile Six: At this point, apparently God answered my prayer because I stopped concentrating on the burning pain of my ankle rubbing problem and instead focused on my right foot. I have this weird problem where my first and second toes cross. They haven’t been doing it for a few months, so of course it would happen on the race course. I worked on wiggling and moving my toes and generally trying to make it stop before it began to hurt. It didn’t work. Split: 10:04

Mile Seven: Looking at the map, I know that I hit a water station here — drinking half and pouring the other half over my head. The humidity was starting to creep up, but the sun wasn’t all the way out from behind the cloud cover. I don’t know what I thought or felt here. I just kept running. Split: 10:19

Mile Eight: OMG, MY FAMILY! My dad handed me my “magic beans,” BigBrother nearly jumped out of his skin with joy, and I was off again. I looked good in the picture. I apparently still felt decent, but I know that seeing my family made me feel amazing. Split: 10:06

A) My dad is awesome. B) DUDE, look at my calf muscle. BAM!

Mile Nine: Nothing. I don’t remember passing the mile marker. I don’t remember signs or feelings. Nothing. Split: 10:12

Mile Ten: Just before the 10 mile marker, I heard my name being screamed, looked to my right and saw a sign with @FIREMOM and my hashtag, #RUNJENNARUN, on it. It was Katy and her family.

This was an awesome surprise!

That made me feel great, especially after the blur of mile nine. In fact, mile nine was such a blur, that I was disappointed that mile 10 was only mile 10; I thought it was going to be mile 11. The sun was out full force at this point. The humidity soared. My right toe problem was still driving me batty. I felt not so hot. A bridge we ran over made a squeaky, shaking noise. I made the decision to switch from the pace screen on my Garmin to the mile screen, focusing on the few miles I had left. I let go of pace at this point, knowing it was a necessary decision to finish the race. It was a good decision as a whole, because it was here that people started to drop. Literally. It’s kind of scary to see people fall down, to watch other runners come to their aid, to hear yells of “MEDIC!” Between mile 10 and 13, I saw 5 go down, though one was just a trip-and-get-up fall. I felt assured that my decision to let go of pace and focus solely on finishing was the right decision, but seeing my times on the next three miles makes me sad. Split: 10:45

Mile Eleven: I don’t know. Split: 10:58

Mile Twelve: Best water station ever. I nearly tripped over another runner who stopped right in front of me; like dead stop, not walking. I did the drink and pour while shuffle-jog-walking I had done at previous stops and trudged onward. Split: 10:50

Mile Thirteen: Just before the last turn, I saw Amanda, Wes and the girls. I remember jumping up and down and waving and yelling, “OH MY GOSH, I AM SO TIRED!” I did feel rejuvenated by seeing my friend, and headed off toward the finish line. I wanted to push, but saw another runner down — one who had been around me throughout the run — and decided not to push at all. I just ran what I could, which was next to nothing. Split: 11:03

Point One: (Or, as my Garmin says, .26 due to bobs and weaves along the course and such) As I entered the finish line area, I heard my name. I was surprised to look up and see my family again. They had booked it from mile eight across side streets and bridges and such to beat me back to the finish and cheer me on. It made me feel amazing, but I really had nothing left. Split: 2:31

Official time: 2:16:21

Crossing the finish line was surreal. I choked on some tears. Then I downed, in order: half a bottle of water, half a banana, 1/4 a bottle of chocolate milk (Dairymens’, mmm), and a whole strawberry Popsicle. I grabbed my medal in awe. My dad tracked me down as I had my official finisher photo taken. We leaned over the fence to get a band-aid for my ankle. Then we went to find the rest of the family.

This happened:

Best. Hug. Ever.

BigBrother ran up to me and said, “YOU DID AWESOME,” as he gave me a big hug. That felt amazing.

We sat under a tree in the shade while I drank a (yellow, of course) Gatorade. I called my husband, choked on more tears. I looked at twitter for the first time, in awe of the love and support. We took some pictures.

BigBrother took this photo. Also, my eye bags have eye bags. Exhausted much?

We then walked to the car, fought road closures to get back to our hotel (note to city of Cleveland: that street fair the same day as the marathon was not your smartest move) where I took a shower, and we hit the road.

Today… would you believe that I forgot to even think about the fact that might be sore until I stood all the way up and took my first step this morning? My legs are sore-ish, but not intolerable. My feet are tired. My raw spot on my ankle burns still, and I actually have a small one on the left ankle too that was just starting as I finished the race. I took a walk with the boys last night to shake out some of the soreness, but I don’t think I’m running today. Maybe tomorrow. Today is for rest.

I need to thank a list of people, some specific and some general.

• My husband: Thank you for putting up with the time apart, for being my biggest supporter, for encouraging me when I felt down and out, for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself. You are my favorite.

• My boys: Thank you for putting up with the time apart and cheering me on in all of your ways.

• My parents: I love you guys. Thank you for coming with me, for making the weekend easier for me. You’re the best.

• Amanda and her family: Who gets up and drives at 4:30 in the morning to see me for less than 10 seconds in the blazing hot sun in big crowds? Oh, they do. Love you guys.

• My sister-in-law: Without you, I wouldn’t have attempted this journey. Thanks for your advice, your inspiration, your support. I’m lucky to have you in my life.

• My mother-in-law: Your encouragement and your support mean the world to me.

• OMG, INTERNET FRIENDS: Your texts, your tweets, your Facebook likes and comments, your Instagram comments, everything. You went above and beyond. You are amazing. You are a lifeline. I love you all. I wish I could buy you all a beer (or a Gatorade or whatever you drink… but not berry Power Ade because ew).

• Some blogging inspiration: Jess (who also ran yesterday), Laura at Mommy Run Fast, and Dorothy at Mile Posts. These three ladies have inspired me and encouraged me. A lot.

• My local friends: Thanks for listening to me rant and rave about running over coffee and playdates and such. I love you guys.

• God: Thanks. Without you, none of this even matters.

The question has already been asked. Will I run another half? Yes. I’m running the Columbus (Half) Marathon in October. My sister-in-law has plans to run with me. I’m hopeful that our schedules will mesh better and my husband will be able to come. I think I’ll form a better plan for my family, sending them to certain miles instead of leaving them to find their way around and race back to the finish. But yes, I’ll run another. And no, I’m not ready for a full marathon.

Thanks for reading, for supporting me through this journey. I don’t start official training for my next half until July, but have a few 5K and other little races this summer. I’ll start officially blogging my training bi-weekly again when it’s time!

What I Wore Sunday, May 19, 2013

OMG! RACE DAY!

• Green tank: Danskin Now: Walmart
• Green running shorts: Danskin Now: Walmart
• Compression shorts: Danskin Now: Walmart
• Nike socks
• Mizuno Wave Inspire 8 Running Shoes
• Garmin Forerunner 10 running GPS watch

Oh. And, you know. A Rite Aid Cleveland Half Marathon medal.

I’m writing an official “Race Recap” tomorrow, so check back for more about how I ended up from picture one to picture two. Until then: Let’s sleep.

52 Weeks of Brotherhood, Week 19

[Color]

[Color]

My default, when I can’t choose between black and white or color is always, always black and white.

My default, when the day has been long and the questions have been many and the laundry piles higher and higher and the dishes won’t wash themselves and dinner was a half-bust and I struggled to perform as an employee or a mother or a wife or a dog owner or a friend or a flipping human being is always, always outside. A walk after dinner — or a bike ride or a frisbee to the shin or a “run two laps around the house” or whatever — is always, always better than sitting inside and counting the minutes until bedtime.

Always.

I promise not to buy any more dogs though. That’s my birthday present to you: No more dogs.

Happy 31, you.

What I Wore Sunday, May 12, 2013

• Maxi Dress: Olympia Maxi in Jade from Kiki La’Rue
• Beaded turquoise necklace: Groopdealz
• Mint rose earrings
• Black tank
• Black wedge heels
• Turquoise green dyed hair: Modern Movements Hair Salon

First off, I found Kiki La’Rue via an old Internet friend, Kelly. (Old meaning that we were met online when she was expecting her daughter — who is older than my daughter, so, yeah.) I had been eyeing the Olympia Maxi in Jade (tealish turquoise green with a mint aqua green) since they started sharing it on their Instagram account. My only lament is that I didn’t get this dress earlier because, holy moly, it’s just perfect. I got so many compliments on it today — even from my husband’s grandfather who is known more for his picking on than his complimenting of, so it’s really a great dress. It’s comfortable. A little long, but perfect with wedge heels like I wear in the summer. And, oh, it’s crazy flattering.

It comes with a belt, but I chose not to wear the dress with the it. The belt itself looks fabulous, but it is wider than the black separation between top and bottom, meaning that some green shoes through and I didn’t like the look it made. I’ll wear the belt with something else, as it really is fabulous.

So yes, I have a greenish turquoise streak in my hair thanks to my hair appointment this past week. I wanted something fun and funky for my half marathon (next Sunday!), and my hair stylist was more than happy to oblige. I can’t get a good picture of it with my iPhone camera, so it’s on my list of things to photograph with the big camera this week.

My Mother’s Day … was lovely. I did end up going to church and was touched and blessed that our service chose to honor all women, children or not. In a reading dedicated to all women, I was honored in all of my facets of motherhood: as a mother who is actively raising two children, as a mother who endured a miscarriage, as a mother who relinquished a child for adoption. The women in our congregation without children were honored for the ways that they love and support their church family members, the way they love and live out their faith amongst us. Yes, I cried. Yes, my husband held my hand and handed me a tissue. Yes, I survived. It was what I needed. I am glad I stepped out in faith and attended today.

Later, I received hugs and kisses and love from my two little boys.

{I’m barefoot here; hence the dress length.}

I feel at peace today. Having texted with the Munchkin briefly yesterday, having been honored and cherished in many ways today, having been loved and kissed by my sons, having been treated like a Queen by my husband, I am fully aware of my many blessings. Conflicts in emotion will exist in any area of life. I acknowledge the mixed feelings that accompany Mother’s Day for me while fully accepting the truth that, yes, I can enjoy the day as well.

I hope your Mother’s Day was as lovely as mine.

I cannot decide if I will be attending church on Mother’s Day. I haven’t for the past few years. When I reminded my husband of this, he said, “Did not attending make you feel happy, sad or indifferent?” I didn’t answer, but instead shot him the look that read, “Don’t ask good questions that force me to think.” He just smirked.

Lounging awhile longer in bed makes for a nice morning, yes. Yet doing so doesn’t remove the loss or hurt from the day. The first few Mother’s Days after Munchkin arrived brought tears and heartache in the church pews. One year in our previous church, I actually stood and spoke for the mothers who relinquished babies, in turn making others mothers. The stares and gaping mouths penetrated my being; I never did so again, choosing to stand with the other mothers and silently acknowledge all parts of my motherhood: the two boys next to me, the daughter hundreds of miles away, the baby lost too early but desperately loved.

I stopped going to church on Mother’s Day after one particularly difficult year. Even with a Pastor who knew my story, knew of my feelings and struggles with grief and loss and motherhood as a whole, the individuals participating in special ceremonies on special days can make or break me. I don’t even remember specifically what escaped from the mouth of another congregation member, but it left me feeling less than, as though I didn’t even deserve to be a mother to the children climbing on me during the service. No one should be made to feel that way on Mother’s Day.

And so, for the past few years, I chose to stay home and celebrate in quiet with my husband and sons. I spent time reflecting on my daughter, on her mother, on the baby we lost to miscarriage, on the two little boys who love me to the moon and back. My husband, understanding the mix of emotions brought forth by the day, always treats me as if I am a Queen. One recent year, he made crab legs for dinner and I melted into a puddle of beloved goo. He goes above and beyond — on more than just this one difficult day per year — to remind me of all I am to him, to our sons, and yes, to my daughter.

Sometimes I try to smack a bit of reality into myself with self-talk of how many other mothers have it worse. And they do; I acknowledge my blessings are innumerable. But the Pain Olympics aren’t real. You don’t get a bigger carnation or trophy or cookie for having the saddest story on Mother’s Day. The day comes and the day goes and we still live with our realities — our happiness, our sadness, our everything intertwined. We still have to wake up on Monday morning and go back to work or tend to our families or whatever it is that we do, that we nurture, that we are in charge of making better in this world. Our journeys — our achievements, our losses, our hope, our grief, our faith, our doubt, our souls — may be different, but life continues to pull us all forward whether we’re ready for forward motion or not.

I don’t yet know if I’ll go to church on Mother’s Day. I don’t know how I’ll feel that day. But I do know that I feel eternally grateful for my various roles of motherhood; I don’t take any of them lightly. Perhaps that’s why this holiday remains so difficult to me: I recognize the full importance and overwhelming responsibility of motherhood. As a mother of loss, a birth mother, and an everyday mother to two little boys, I feel a catch in my throat when I think of all that has been placed upon my shoulders when it comes to this quickly growing next generation.

My fervent prayer remains that I can do right by all of my children by being the best mother in my various capacities to each of them.

In between the tip of my nose and the pages of my book, a small hand thrust a number of dandelions gone to seed. Wishers, as we fondly call them. I took them and smiled as he climbed up to the top of his slide. I looked at the white puffs in my hand, wondering what wishes to wish this time.

Squinting as I looked back over my shoulder, I asked him a simple question. “Do you think you’ll always remember blowing wishers with me?”

He sent another series of wishes dancing down on the spring breeze before he answered. “Yes.”

“Will you always blow wishers with me?” My heart skipped a beat as I slammed into the realization that Kindergarten looms, that these moments of quiet alone time with this little Booey are numbered.

“Of course.”

Quiet for a few minutes, we tended to our own wishes, awash in hopes and sunshine. As we finished with the handful he had picked before Daddy started mowing them down, he sat atop the slide, silent and still.

“Well…” he paused. “If I don’t always remember, I do promise to drive to your house and still blow wishers with you.”

I know what my wish is… and will be… for quite some time.

52 Weeks of Brotherhood, Week 18

Oh, the dog.

Oh, these three.

Two boys and their beloved dog. The joy can be heard by all the neighbors any time we’re outside. “Callie, go get the ball! Callie, go get the frisbee! Callie, sit. Callie, run! Callie, don’t bite my bike tire! Callie! Callie! Callie!” Because sibling rivalry exists in all places, even places you couldn’t have imagined to think of ahead of time and thus plan for, they argue over who gets to throw the ball next or who gets to tell her to sit. They want her love.

And they so have it.

1. Running in shorts. I don’t like shorts. If I have to show leg (read: it’s very hot out), I would rather wear a skirt. The reason for this preference finds basis in my thighs. I’ve never been comfortable with them, which sounds so silly when I write it out. But it’s the truth. Out of all of my body parts, including my stretch-marked, saggy, post-three-babies belly, I am most self-conscious about my thighs. I will wear skirts or sweat in capris, but I just haven’t liked the way shorts sit or feel or fit.

I’ve had to get over that in the past few weeks. When I started running again late last summer, I either went with capris or did the “sweat through it” in pants. The problem with that now (and then): I hate being overheated. I’m running much longer distances and significantly faster now, so it came down to either sucking it up and wearing shorts or passing out due to heat exhaustion. While running skirts exist, I couldn’t find one that I liked. I went with shorts.

I’m still deciding which of my few pair of compression shorts will make an appearance in the What I Wore Sunday Half Marathon post, but I’ve been giving them multiple tryouts on different length runs. Right now, it’s down to a cheaper pair of Danskin Now and a pair of Under Armour snagged from the factory outlet store on eBay. (Did you know that existed? You’re welcome.) They both do what they’re supposed to do, so it will likely be a last minute decision on race day.

2. Speaking of race day, preliminary reports show that it might rain on race morning in Cleveland, though it has changed twice already. Now we’re looking at “variably cloudy with a shower.” High of 61 degrees! I find this to be acceptable because it will be cooler and, well, as my new Nike Running shirt says, “I do it in the rain.” I do like to run in the rain! And snow! But I need to find a new hat (that fits my big head) if it’s going to be pouring.

3. I want to send out a thank you to all of my amazing friends, online and off, who ran the Pittsburgh Marathon and Half Marathon yesterday. You are all an inspiration to me in this journey of mine. I also want to commend Pittsburgh for some great social media interaction, including a good use of the newer Vine app. Kudos, Pittsburgh!

4. Speaking of social media interaction, the Cleveland Marathon has been doing things right as well. They’ve helped me figure a route from our new hotel. They’ve answered questions I’ve had, making this whole First Timer experience for me quite enjoyable. I love me some good Customer Service, and this team is really bringing it to the table. I am pleased that Cleveland will be my first half marathon!

5. The big question: So how’s your back, Jenna? It’s okay-ish. The pain clinic could not get me in before the half marathon. Bummer. The good news: The pain does not rank as high as it did when I was basically immobile last year. In fact, it’s rather tolerable. The not-so-good news: The naproxen I’m taking kind of tears up my tummy a little bit. The best news: My back does not hurt while I am running. At all. It hurts most in the morning; I turn on my heating pad for 15 minutes before I even attempt rolling out of bed ever-so-slowly. And it’s tired again in the evening. But during a run? I am good as gold.

6. Speed. Everyone keeps asking me, “What’s your goal time?” I keep avoiding the question, because the truth — since my back flared up — is that I just hope to finish the race. Prior to this issue, I had hopes of hitting somewhere near two hours, but I’ve let go of some of my speed dreams. I am working on listening — intently — to my body to make sure I’m not overdoing it on any given run right now, and that includes race day unfortunately. This morning though, I was feeling great, and pushed a fast two miles. If I’m feeling healthy and in the game on race day, I’ll give it all I’ve got, but I’m not going to berate myself for any kind of finish. I’m going to celebrate like I just won the thing!

7. Nerves. Yeah, I’ve got those. Check! I figure with the whirlwind aspect of that weekend, I won’t actually have time to focus on them very much. Or, so I hope.

8. BigBrother is coming! After the hullabaloo and resulting shake down when we realized my husband couldn’t come to the race, my mom and dad scrambled to get the last room in downtown. Then she asked if BigBrother wanted to come. When I asked him, he about jumped out of his chair. Then he asked, “Do you think you’ll win it?” Well, no, sorry to disappoint, kid. He’ll be with me at the expo and cheering with my mom, dad, and sister-in-law while I run on Sunday morning. I also have to sleep with him on Saturday evening; I won’t be sleeping well anyway. See also: Nerves.

9. I bought a Garmin. In green, obviously. I grabbed the Forerunner 10 — off of eBay for a steal because the previous owner got it as a gift, and then upgraded shortly thereafter. I didn’t want lots of bells and whistles; I just wanted something to track my pace and mileage should it be raining on race day. I took it on a mile run when it arrived today. I like it. I’ll keep it.

10. OMG! I’M GOING TO RUN A HALF MARATHON, YOU GUYS! Let’s do this.

I’m thankful that the next 12 days will be ridiculously busy. No time to second guess myself or let the voices of doubt have their way. I’m ready. Let’s go!