What the hell is Ditch the Tiara?

Redefining the word beautiful...one dirty, sweaty, bruised up mile at a time, with a few downward dogs along the way...

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

pssst. Want to know a secret?


Somehow, I kept a secret. (my family is completely shaking their heads in disbelief right now, I know.) Not so much of an "Oh my god, did you know that she did...???" kind of secret, but more of an, "I'm not at all surprised she decided to do that..." kind of one. A few weeks ago, I felt like I needed something in my life.  Like a great, big, fat physical SOMETHING. It was eating at me. I had no idea what *it* entailed.  and then I remembered that the Estes Park marathon was quickly approaching.  By far, it's the biggest nemesis out of all of my 26.2s, albeit the most beautiful. It is still my hardest, highest elevation and most harrowing race.  It's the only marathon that I have ever DNF'd.  Mile 19.  It was raining. It was cold.  and I was naive enough to think I could beat out hypothermia. Ironically, it was hypothermia that beat me out at Ironman too.  Fuck that.  If it was going to be a cold, rainy day, I would be better equipped with gear.  I was going for it.  I wanted number 63.  BAD.  

I told myself that if I could run 16 miles, just a mere six days before the marathon, that I was in. ALL. IN. Unfortunately, I am still struggling with my injury recovery. still going to physical therapy every week. BUT... still hopeful that someday that this will all be behind me. And so, after work on Monday, June 16th, I set out to "run" 16 miles.  I may or may have not walked a bit of that run, but when I was done I knew exactly what my decision was.  ALL. IN. I was so excited I could scream...and I may have! Who could I tell?!  and then it hit me, I have a 'person' that I can share these things with.  I finally have a 'person!'  I also hinted to a couple of friends about my decision.  I don't know why I felt like I needed to keep this so quiet and to myself, but I did.  Who had I become?!

So on Sunday, in typical KJ fashion, I got to Estes Park at 5:52am.  The race began at 6am, and I still had to go to the bathroom, pick up my bib and get to the start line.  I started about five minutes after everyone else, and pretty much *strolled* my way through the first 1/4 mile, chatting with a local photographer, Walt Hester.  I was in no rush.  This was going to be a long ass 26.2 miles and I had already prepared myself mentally for a six hour race.  Estes Park is 8,000+ feet above sea level, hilly as hell and I am still making my way back to being a "runner" again. Thankfully, over the course of the past year, I have been blessed with the very hard-earned gifts of patience, positivity and humility.  Thank you IMCdA.  and so with a happy heart and healthy attitude, I picked up the pace and started to run, ticking off one mile at a time, chasing down yet another dream... 

...and somewhere around five hours and 40 minutes, I put my hand over my heart, looked up to the sky with gratitude, tears streaming down my cheeks, and crossed the finish line to find that my "something" was more than just a finisher's medal...it was simply the reminder that I am so much stronger than I think. I understand that most people don't need to go out and run 26.2 miles to remind themselves of that.  But let's face it, I am not like most people... 










I'm now a 63 time marathoner but still an ordinary girl trying to do extraordinary things...



5 comments:

Christi said...

You are extraordinary!!!!

tommybabe said...

Ordinary? Not ordinary at all....not in any ways I can think of...

KJ said...

I adore you I adore you :)

KJ said...

As are you my love!

Running Librarian said...

Congrats! WAy to go!!