Two Sisters. One Adventure That Benefits St. Jude.

Hello, family, friends, readers, fellow bloggers, and everyone else!

There comes a point during each exercise session – whether a run, a weightlifting routine, a fitness class, or another type of workout – where some sort of pain and suffering takes place. We push our bodies to the limit, essentially making them suffer. But even when we don’t enjoy this suffering, we can remind ourselves that we chose it. We made the conscious decision to put our bodies through something uncomfortable.

The same cannot be said, however, for the countless children who have been diagnosed with cancer and other life-threatening diseases. They did not choose to put their bodies through this. They did not choose to suffer.

Thankfully, St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital is working endlessly to change the present and future for these children by finding cures and providing treatment. St. Jude’s pledge, according to www.stjude.org, is that “no child is ever turned away because of a family’s inability to pay.” To that end, families never receive a bill from the hospital for treatment, housing, food, or travel.

With an average of more than 67,000 patient visits per year, St. Jude has a daily operating cost of approximately $2 million, most of which is covered by donations. One strong supporter of St. Jude is the Warrior Dash, an incredible 3-mile mud run/obstacle course that has, to date, raised nearly $11 million for the cause. Funds are raised through registration fees and through additional pledges.

Last August, my sister, Maria, and I completed our first Warrior Dash together. It was such an amazing sister experience that we signed up to run two more this summer, the first of which is on Saturday, May 16. To earn our Warrior Dash helmets this weekend, we have each set a goal of raising $300 for St. Jude – a total of $600.

That’s where you come in. We’re asking that you consider partnering with us to support St. Jude by donating to our fundraising pages by Friday, May 15. You can donate here for Maria and here for me. If and when one of us meets her goal, please consider donating to the other fundraising page so that we can both meet our goals.

More importantly than helping us meet our goals, though, you will be making an immeasurable difference in the lives of the children at St. Jude. Help them overcome their obstacles as we tackle our much smaller ones at the Warrior Dash.

Thank you so much!

Helmets Up,
Maria and Krista Hurley

The Heartbreak of Unachieved Goals

(Disclaimer: This is not my official Pittsburgh Marathon race recap. This is my attempt to sort through some of my feelings before the official recap so that the official recap can focus on more of the positives. That being said, though, there will certainly be some race spoilers in this post, so be forewarned!)

I’m not used to failing. That’s not who I am. That’s not normally what I do. When I set a goal, I accomplish it a lot of times because I tough it out. I do what it takes to get it done. Because I hate the feeling of not succeeding.

Just to lay it all out there for you: I’m really hurting right now. And I don’t just mean physically because I crossed the finish line of my first marathon on Sunday (note the phrasing there), although my legs are a bit sore. I mostly mean emotionally. With this marathon, I set three time goals: one that I could meet if I was feeling REALLY good, one that I could most likely meet even if I was having an off-day, and one that I would definitely meet, barring injury. I also had an unstated goal – unstated because it was so obvious that I would achieve it that I didn’t even think it was worth mentioning; that goal was to run the whole thing. (I’ve never EVER walked during a race. And I’ve never EVER stopped/paused during a race.) So there were my four goals.

And guess how many I achieved.

Zero.

None. Of. Them.

During the race, I knew my top time goal was unattainable by the time I hit the 12-mile mark. My second time goal was out of reach probably by the time I crossed the 14-mile mark. I struggled to about the 15.5-mile point when I did the unthinkable (for me): I stopped. (Side note: Tears are welling up in my eyes as I write this.) I stopped to stretch, but I didn’t really need to stretch; I needed a break, and stretching was my excuse.

I had been debating with myself over the previous mile or so. I knew I needed (or thought I needed) to give my legs a break, but I also knew that once I stopped running, it would be nearly impossible for me to will myself to run more than a little at a time again. But I was running so slowly that eventually my desire for a quick break won over. I “stretched” for a minute or so, and then I walked. I walked a lot before I finally convinced myself to adopt a completely arbitrary run/walk technique. I used that technique for 9.5 miles. More than one-third of my very first marathon – the highly anticipated culmination of the last 18 weeks of my life – was spent run/walking.

Had my plan all along been to run/walk, I would have been OK with it. I wouldn’t have been beating myself up for the last few days because of it. But that wasn’t my plan. That’s not how I trained. I trained to run THE WHOLE THING. And I am devastated.

But here’s the thing: At the time, I didn’t care (well, not as much, anyway). I was minorly disappointed when I decided to walk, but I kept a brisk-ish pace while taking in the surroundings and enjoying the atmosphere. And when I got to the 25-mile mark – after 9.5 miles of run/walking – I decided to try to jog the remaining 1.2 miles. And I did it. I jogged across the finish line successfully. (Never mind the disgusting dry heave that I had tried to keep under wraps but that unleashed itself when I was 10 or 20 yards from the finish line. I really hope the race photographer captured that.)

Leading up to the race, I had gleefully imagined the sense of accomplishment that would wash over me when my foot hit the finish line. But when I actually crossed it, there was no such feeling of achievement. Since I’d actually enjoyed the race for the most part, I wasn’t dismayed, either. There was just no emotion whatsoever. It was kind of like, “OK, there’s that. Um, I wonder if there are any snacks left.” (Not that I had any appetite, anyway. I just wanted the snacks for the next day, when I would, in theory, be hungry again.)

This marathon was supposed to leave me feeling empowered. I was supposed to have an unparalleled sense of accomplishment, that I-can-do-anything quality. Instead, I feel discouraged. Like a failure. Like I can’t instead of like I can. I’m not standing tall with my finisher’s medal around my neck. I’m crumpling under the weight of my own unmet expectations (which were not all that lofty, by general running standards or by my own standards).

Sure, it was a hot day. Sure, there was a heat advisory. Sure, I had done my training mostly in winter, with no temperatures near what I faced in Pittsburgh. No, I can’t pin my complete running meltdown – no pun intended – on that. Some of it, maybe, but not all of it.

I have had so many people tell me things like, “But you still did it! That’s not failing. You didn’t quit! You kept going! You completed a marathon!” I admit that there is some truth to that, and I appreciate the encouragement. In my mind, though, I didn’t do it. The moment I decided to walk, I quit. I gave up. End of story. And I don’t just want to say that I completed a marathon or that I crossed the finish line of a marathon; I want to say that I have run a marathon, and that’s not a claim I can make right now.

I’m just going to take this whole marathon grieving/recovery process one step at a time. It’s difficult, and it hurts a lot right now. This is not at all how I expected my post-marathon experience to be. I expected to be elatedly telling stories from the race, not choking back tears every time someone calls me a marathoner (a title I don’t feel I’ve earned) or asks how the race went because I’m so disappointed in myself/my effort.

I’ll work through this. I’m sure I will. I have a whole bag of 26.2-related souvenirs that I don’t feel like I’ve earned, but I want to get to a place where I feel like I have. After all, I paid a pretty penny for them.

There’s one thing I know, though: I am going to try again. I can do better, and I will do better. The marathoning world hasn’t seen the last of me.

A Pre-Marathon Pep Talk to Myself From Myself

One of the biggest athletic events of my life is coming up this weekend. In approximately 34 hours, I will be starting to run my first marathon. Wow. I’m so excited to be returning to Pittsburgh (where I’ve run the half twice) to run my first full. (<–Believe me, I really am excited, but right now I’m in more of a reflective mood, so my enthusiasm isn’t as overwhelmingly gushy.)

Anybody else get random butterflies in their stomach during the week leading up to a marathon or other race/athletic event? I mean, seriously. This week, I’ve seen Pittsburgh everywhere. EV-ER-Y-WHERE. In materials at work. Online. On food products. ON THE MUDFLAPS OF A TRACTOR TRAILER I PASSED ON THE HIGHWAY. Everywhere. But I’m OK at this moment. No butterflies. But anyway.

To get ready for this marathon, I’ve been training for 18 weeks. For those of you who don’t want to do the math: I’ve been training since the last week of December/first week of January. (Side note: Hal Higdon, are you sure that only training up to 20 miles is enough? I guess I’ll find out pretty soon…)

Anyway, this week’s training program called for greatly scaled-back mileage, with the final run being a 2-miler. I wanted to do that one on Thursday after work, and my mom, my friend Ann, and I planned to run it together. It was a great run, and I loved the company: My mom has been such a huge support throughout this whole training experience, and Ann has been and continues to be such an inspiration – talk about a comeback kid!

A great way to conclude my 18 weeks of training: a 2-mile run with Ann and Mom!

I’ve been wanting to hit the 400-mile mark for my training. A few weeks ago, though, it looked like I wasn’t going to reach that milestone, but I tacked on a few extra tenths of a mile on several of my runs so that maybe I could get there. Oh, and by the way, that 2-mile with Mom and Ann? Yeah, it put me over that 400-mile mark. YEAH!

My nearly complete training log (well, the second page of it): one rest day and the marathon left!

Training Recap (by the numbers):
Total Miles: 400.55!!
Total Number of Runs: 60
Longest Run: 20.1 miles
Shortest Run: 0.25 miles (It was the day after the 20.1-miler, and I walked around a track and decided to jog a quarter-mile…very slowly.)
Total Collected in the I Said Marathon Punishment Jar: $21.50 (I was to put a quarter in this jar every time I said “marathon” or “training” without someone asking about it. So…according to the amount of money in the jar, I let those words slip 86 times during my training!)

Before I ran the 2014 Hershey Half Marathon, I wrote a letter to my body, basically giving it a pep talk. This time, aware that my brain might feel overwhelmed at times, I’m going to give myself (a marathoning novice) some tips from myself (also a marathoning novice). Read on!
**Note that these are things that work (or don’t work) for me personally, and not all of them are techniques that will (or won’t) work for everyone!

The Do’s & Don’ts:
-DO take pictures during the race if you want, but…
-…DON’T feel obligated to take pictures (and DON’T get stressed about it).
-DO buy some cool 26.2 mementos! You’ve been saving up for this, so get some neat souvenirs.
-DON’T spend too much time at the expo. Get what you need to get and enjoy the atmosphere, sure, but don’t linger too long!
-DO hydrate the day before! Not by chugging a gallon of water at a time, of course, but by sipping H20 throughout the day.
-DON’T eat corned beef and sauerkraut the night before. Even if you’re really, really craving it. ‘Nuff said.
-DO get to bed nice and early the night before the race. It would be kind of anticlimactic if you fell asleep during the race because you went to sleep too late.
-DON’T forget important stuff on race day. Like, no leaving the hotel without your sneakers or anything ridiculous like that. Relax…you have a checklist; just use it and you’ll be fine!
-DO make sure your toenails are cut! We can’t have Toenail A slicing Toenail B up for 26.2 miles, can we?
-DON’T tie your shoes too tight. You’ll be a much happier runner if you don’t.
-DON’T start out too quickly! You’ve got a long way to go, so no sense rushing things. Pace yourself!
-DO go a bit out of your way sometimes to high-five little kids. That’s fun and encouraging for all involved. 🙂
-DON’T panic. Seriously, it’s only 26.2 miles. (HAHAHAHAHA)
-DO smile, even when the going gets tough. Remember, there are a whole bunch of spectators out there, and you’ve got to show them that running is fun all of the time! (Mild sarcasm there, but seriously…just enjoy the experience of running a marathon!)
-DON’T stress over your time/results, but…
-…DO aim to do your best!
-DO be ready for God to use you, even – and especially – while you’re running.
-DON’T be too dramatic. None of those “UGH! ANOTHER HILL?!” shenanigans.
-DO enjoy the whole experience, even the tough parts. (I see you, Hill at Mile 12!)

Remember:
-Hal Higdon knows what he’s doing! His training programs have helped countless first-time marathoners to cross finish lines, and he’s about to help at least one more (you)!
-You chose to do this! So make the most of it.
-Michael Jordan will be waiting for you at the finish line! (I LOVE MICHAEL JORDAN.) OK, so maybe he won’t be…but an Eat’n Park cookie will be! And you’ll see your family soon after. 🙂

“Do you not know that those who run in a race all run,
but only one receives the prize?
Run in such a way that you may win.”
-I Corinthians 9:24

Victory pose after the 2012 Pittsburgh Half Marathon