She can be quoted as saying, "You can talk me into anything...like no one else can."
In a like.
She says she's still on the fence for this year's tri, but I know she's not.
She'll triumph over that lake swim again.
This past weekend, she ran her first Half Marathon! I am honored to have been a part of it. I have loved sharing our running journeys. So many accomplishments, so many conversations. Occasional bouts of doubt and discouragement overcome by more determination than I'd previously known possible.
There is something about distance running. You learn a lot about yourself as you push through pain and head for a finish line well beyond what you think is possible. A distance well beyond anything that you will ever need to run in everyday life. As you realize you're dousing yourself in biofreeze ... to keep covering miles, propelled by your own two feet and sheer will, knowing that you'll ice for the next 24-48 hours. Especially when you think back to 12 months ago and remember that your furthest distance was a 5K.
(And this was my second Half Marathon. Someone pinch me.)
Race day is the culmination of all the hard work of training. It's the day we get crowded in with other runners - hip to hip, heel to toe - to cross that start line, enjoy miles of scenery, bands, spectators, running partners, and the spiritual experience of running, cross the finish line, and collect that medal. I really love the medal. It's a day of celebration.
You train for months to get to race day. This winter we were able to run through mid-February without any trouble, but then it started dumping snow on us and temps were miserable. Running outside just didn't happen as often as we'd planned. And I simply can't imagine 10 miles on a treadmill, so our training was interrupted... Tiffany didn't run at all between Feb. 27 and early April. That last February run was 7 miles, then she sat out for 5 weeks and came back to a 5 mile training run, then a 9 mile run two days later. That 9 mile run was the furthest she'd been ever, so every step beyond that was a new PR for her.
A week later - 2 days before the Half - her shins and my back started screaming. But we did not bow out of the race.
We popped some Motrin, donned cheerful tutus and rainbow socks to offset all of the odds stacked against us, and high-fived spectators for 13.1 miles.
Rachel didn't run the Half, but she came out to cheer and take photos. She also carried jackets and gloves that we discarded (and then I had to pick some up off the ground a mile later because I have wimpy cold hands) and she was our pharmacy. Thank God for Rachel!
She caught us passing through mile 5. You can see Tiffany's tutu...I'm off to her right.
And she was there again (I'm guessing mile 9?) when we were in pain. At this point I bathed in her little packets of biofreeze. This is my DRUGS, PLEASE face.
I love when you reach the point in the race that you stop counting up and, instead, count down the distance remaining.
Till you reach the finish line.
Where we were photo bombed. Or maybe she thinks we photo bombed her. Either way, note to self: don't finish directly behind someone if you can help it.
I am always so blessed to get to spend time with these girls.
And with Rachel ... who isn't in a single picture I have from Saturday. Thank you, Rachel, for cheering us on and being behind the lens so we have proof that we ran 13.1 miles in 2:50.
Congratulations to Tiffany on her first Half Marathon! You have got oodles of determination and sheer will...and you are somehow relatively immune to injury and exhaustion! Sometimes I think I ought to check you for batteries, as you don't know the meaning of the word quit.
The 2013 race season has been kicked off just right.
I'm loving life.