46:18 closer to trusting me

46:18. 

…that was our (PR-worthy) finishing time on Thanksgiving’s Wild Turkey Run (our 4th time running!).

It was a PR that I fought for. (sound familiar?)

But it was also an eye-opening experience, too. So much so that it took me a couple of days to mull it over before writing up this race recap.

But let me back-up to the race itself.

Thanksgiving morning. Woke up, looked at Scott, smiled. Thankful for him.
Jumped out of bed. Brrrr. Knew it was gonna be a chilly start to the race (32 degrees!). But I was excited — I had a brand-spankin’ new pair of Under Armour compression tights to take for a spin. I was ready to bundle up and own this race.

Standing at the starting line of the race, I couldn’t help but think back to the previous three times I’d stood at that very start line.

I felt so different this time.
…Not afraid.
…Not anxious (other than a few butterflies).
…Not intimidated.
I felt every bit the runner that I’ve grown into and I was ready to run a hard race (even if I was whining away to Scott about how cold I was…to which I got the usual reply: “suck it up, Sally.”)

During the race, I once again felt like I was struggling (same feeling I felt during the first half of the last half marathon). I started to doubt myself. The thought of running a sub-50 minute 5-miler soon became “Ok, I’d be happy with a 50 minute 5-miler…” Once again, I was not recognizing that me ‘struggling’ was actually me working for that PR, fighting through those miles, pushing against my body’s desire to slow down, to take the easy way out.

And I could tell Scott was frustrated with me. Not because I wasn’t working hard enough, but because he could sense that I was starting to doubt myself. Once I saw the 4-mile mark (ironically, the same spot the 12-mile mark was from the Wicked Half last fall), I kicked it up a notch. I literally said to myself “stop talking yourself out of this.”

And I pushed it. Harder and harder. Told myself to “run the mile you’re in” – and that mile was my last mile so you best believe it was my fastest mile.

When we crossed that finish line and I saw the 46:18 beaming back at me from the race clock, I was honestly stunned. I really thought I was bound to see a 50+ finish…that all that self-doubt had won.

I looked at Scott, happy with our finish, but still sensing that something was on his mind. To which he responded:

“You’re fitter than most of the people in this race, why don’t you see that?”

Which was his way of saying, you could have fought harder, I knew you had it in you. That’s not to say he didn’t think I pushed it or that he wasn’t proud of our finish – he just sees something in me that I still have trouble seeing:

I have “it” in me to push harder. To challenge myself to pick up the pace. To trust myself. Not doubt. Trust.

And he’s absolutely right. I do have it in me. It’s time to stop holding back — to let go is the only way I’ll see what this body is truly capable of.

So this race? Let’s call it 46:18 closer to trusting “me.” 
…I dig it.