I know most women won’t say they love their bodies, but the last five years I have hated mine with a passion. It couldn’t function in the simplest way and do something that came naturally and so easily to almost every other woman I knew. Late last year, after numerous infertility treatments, the doctor finally told us that we would likely never have a child of our own. It was devastating.
I spent so much of my time the last five years focusing on trying to start our family that I didn’t know what to do with myself after I got that news. I felt broken. My body had failed me. I had failed us. I felt like I had to set some goals in 2015 and do something spectacular to prove something to myself.
I don’t know why I picked running a half-marathon. Maybe it’s because I had never run more than 6 miles at one time before in my life (and even that was only once). Our family isn’t a family of runners; we’re solid farm stock, built for strength and towering over people, not speed and agility. Or maybe it was because I had gained weight after being on the hormone treatments and sitting around just trying to take it easy. A running plan would surely help me slim back down.
Whatever the reason, I decided that running a half-marathon would be one of my goals for 2015. I accomplished that goal this Sunday morning at the IMS Arizona Marathon, running much faster than I had anticipated and finishing really well overall.
My husband had to fly out of town for a work conference that morning and felt terrible he couldn’t be there for me. My friend that coached me over the last few months couldn’t come into town to cheer me on and was really disappointed as well. But I didn’t mind; in fact, I was kind of relieved actually. This was something I had to do on my own. And I did it! I did end up proving something to myself this weekend, too: basically, I still kick ass.