Forget Me Not...

So, Beth had been haunting me for the whole summer about how the TNT fit club‘s running group was running the “Forget Me Not” 5K road race for Alzheimer’s research…and that I should join them.  

I think I tried to come up with every conceivable reason why I shouldn’t run it.  I was working the night before.  I was working the night after.  I hadn’t trained enough.  I would sweat too much.  I was scared that I wouldn’t finish.  I thought I may actually die. 

But, none of it phased her.  Shocking. 

So, when I had the opportunity to switch off work the night before the race, and knew I would at least be able to sleep beforehand, I begrudgingly agreed.  Running a road race is something I have secretly wanted to do my entire life.  So, Beth finally appealed to the tiny sliver of my “inner runner” and when I said yes I almost immediately felt nauseated.

I have been running with Beth for almost a year now.  Sometimes we run for our whole session and sometimes we just run a few miles as a warm up.   I love and hate it all at the same time.  I love that I physically CAN run.  It’s something I have never been able to do…even if I wanted to.   But running is hard.   And "hard" just plain scares me sometimes. 

So, this past Sunday was race day.  I did everything I was supposed to.  I ate my carb-ish breakfast 2 hours before.  I made my playlist for my iPod.  I peed at least 15 times.  And before I knew it...it was race time….and there I was…#22 pinned to my shirt….standing in a group of people looking waaaay less nervous than me. 

As we started, I stuck with Beth for the first 2 miles...afraid to leave her side.  But, trying to keep up with her, I lost my concentration...lost the rhythm to my breathing...and nearly thought I was going die.   Despite all of that, with tears in my eyes, I kept running.  Beth slowed my pace and told me keep going.  She told me I could do it...over and over.  


And just like always, for some crazy reason, I believed her. 

I didn’t have a goal time to beat.  I just wanted to finish the whole race…without stopping…running the whole time.  And somehow, I did that…in 34 minutes and 1 second…with Beth’s hand on my back as I crossed the finish line.  

It was one of the proudest moments of my life.  And one I will certainly not forget.