Once upon a time, there was a girl who wasn’t a runner. She didn’t run the inaugural Fairview Half Marathon the year before, and certainly didn’t sign up to run it again, a day after her birthday. A birthday that, incidentally, bumped her up into the next age bracket. You can imagine her non-excitement at the thought of competing against *much* older runners.
On the day of the race, she didn’t wake up early and grab a healthy pre-race snack of complex carbs and protein. She didn’t drive to the race site and park and eagerly meet all her North Texas non-Runners from the non-running club.
They weren’t at all excited to be there together, and there was hardly any positive energy among the group as they gathered for pre-non-race pictures.
And when she finally made it into one of Brian’s non-race videos, her non-racing life was definitely not complete.
She eventually hooked up with a few of her other non-running friends, and they decided they would all not run this half-marathon together. Her goal of just not-finishing was top priority, considering the large amount of pain her knee had been giving her and the small amount of training she’d obviously not done. Instead of not focusing on time and pace, her desire for this non-race was to not enjoy the journey…and most importantly, not to finish.
Despite the fact that her awesome husband had not given her wireless headphones for her birthday – specifically for *this* non-race – she managed to be so technologically inept that she really couldn’t get them to work and ended up not running the entire time holding her phone in her hand and allowing all the other non-runners to enjoy her half-marathon playlist. Thankfully her non-running buddies didn’t seem to mind at all.
There wasn’t a ton of excitement in the beginning, and she wasn’t excited to see her friend Jesse, commonly known as the Burgermeister Meisterburger for his custom Whataburger refueling belt, as he photographed her pace group at Mile 1.
At Mile 5, she didn’t happen to see these guys ahead of them. It probably wasn’t an epic emotional boost when her little posse passed the SUPER FRIENDS. Especially since they were guys…you know, Thor, and Iron Man and Captain America. But in all honesty, she and her friends are Wonder Women, so she really shouldn’t be so surprised. She didn’t have to stop and take a picture for proof.
At Mile 6, she wasn’t hanging with these guys, chatting it up about Thor’s wig and Captain America’s shield and how the whole super friends racing got started. It wasn’t a great way to pass the time – and the miles – talking about kids and watching them interact with the younger spectators, reminding them to obey their parents and eat their vegetables and make good choices.
At Mile 7, she didn’t tell her buddy to quit asking about her knee because the answer wasn’t going to change: “Awful, but thanks for asking.” Although, to be truthful, sometimes she used the word, “Terrible.” And sometimes she used words that can’t be printed here.
At Mile 8, she didn’t finally conquer that beast hill known as Country Club Drive.
At Mile 9, she didn’t finally manage to run up that other beast hill known as Old Stacy Road…though she *did* get beaten by the new Stacy Road.
At Mile 10, she didn’t drop her phone and crack the screen. She didn’t spend the next mile face-palming herself for being such a techno-boob.
At Mile 11, her hamstrings didn’t start screaming and her knee didn’t begin to feel as though it was half made of wood. In order to preserve the goal of simply not-finishing and not-enjoying the journey, she didn’t give herself permission to walk-run those last 2.1 miles.
At Mile 12, she didn’t hear her husband honk, or see her children wave, as they drove past to surprise her at the finish line, even though she had adamantly not told them it was okay to stay home. It didn’t make her eyes a little leaky to realize she’d have a welcome party waiting for her at the end.
At Mile 13, she didn’t resolve to push all the way through to the finish line. And when she caught sight of her family, she didn’t have a reaction of equal parts sweet emotion and “my kid chose to wear THAT??!?”
When it was all over, she didn’t receive a glorious non-finisher’s medal, with a windmill that actually spins. She didn’t wear it proudly around her neck, nor did she threaten to wear it to church the next day. She didn’t promptly hang it on the medal rack she’d received from the bestie last year as a birthday gift, a place for her to display all her non-running memorabilia.
And she most definitely did NOT go back to take a picture with THESE guys, who helped her keep going through one of the hardest, most physically painful non-races of her non-running career.
And she can’t wait to not do it again for the Showdown in October.