Disney Princess Half Marathon-Check!

When I go back to reread the post I wrote back in November about my decision to run the Disney Princess Half Marathon, I am surprised. Surprised not only by the fact that it still makes me tear up, but also by the realization that that was actually my experience: the pain of that miscarriage and our struggles to get pregnant seem like they belong to someone else's life memories, so far and faded is that pain now.

Last weekend I went back to run my third (and quite possibly last) half marathon in Disney, this one in celebration of Just Me and My Boys. As poignant and important as the event was, it did not feel at all heavy. The few times I got emotional, it was a giddy sort of joy--tears of relief mostly--that I got all I had wanted Then. I got my kids. I got to be a mom.

And it was fun. The weekend was filled with silliness (how could it not be when 90% of the runners--even men--were wearing everything from tiaras to tutus?!?) and fun and light. So rather than write another post about my emotional full circle and the meaning of this whole experience for me, I found it best to capture it with some photo ops...

We started out the Race Weekend with the kids' races. Ben ran the
200 meter and took off so fast that Daddy almost couldn't keep up alongside him. Aidan Kai earned his first-ever medal in the 100 meter dash. He was pretty darn proud of himself. (I did not miss the irony that this time around my half marathon weekend started out with me on the sidelines watching my children race...)

After the kids' races, we were off to the Expo which, in the past, had been quite an enjoyable way to spend a couple of hours among vendors and other racers, but this time...good God!...standing in line for packet pick-up or to purchase one single "I Did It! 2011" t-shirt was surely more grueling than the race itself! However, the Big Moment of the expo came when my boys made their "Go Mama" signs to hold up on race day for me:

Back at the hotel room, Hubby and the boys gave me gifts: a pink sparkly cuff picked out by the boys, a pink flask picked out by Hubby (because, after all, what better way to celebrate the culmination of 3 months worth of hard physical training than with a little girly flask?), an amazingly inspiring card, and a picture drawn by Ben during his art center time in school depicting me running throughout the race all in pink and purple crayon (does my kid know me, or what?).

After getting everything ready, we tried to get in a good night's sleep, but I, at least, only managed one solid hour.

By 3:45 a.m., I was ready to run:

And by 4:45 a.m., the boys were ready to roll:

When Cinderella's fairy godmother counted down and the fireworks went off, I was more than eager to go. I was surprised to find that my first couple of miles didn't hurt as much as they usually do, and I settled into a steady pace right away. I was so excited about the whole thing, that I barely listened to any of my music (which is kind of ironic after all the drama about whether or not my personality allowed for me to just run with a random playlist on my shuffle). Every mile or so, Disney provided entertainment of some type: characters, djs, performers, and I was glad I had decided not to carry my camera after all, because I would not have been able to resist waiting in the really long lines to take pictures with some of them (particularly the Captain Jack Sparrow scene and Ben's favorite: Lilo and Stitch). By the time the course started winding towards the Magic Kingdom, I knew my boys would be along the sidelines cheering me on, and the running felt effortless. As we entered Mainstreet, I scanned the hundreds (and I do mean hundreds) of spectators lined up cheering the racers, anxiously looking for the reason I was running. The minute I spotted them, I broke every runners' courtesy rule and weaved across the racers, practically tripping a few of them, to get to my family.

Seeing them there made every step worth it. I don't think I have ever been so elated in the middle of an event. I took several minutes to chat with my boys, give everyone kisses, and take a couple of pictures.

The next 4 miles were a piece of cake, since the route continued around and through the Magic Kingdom and I was still riding the high of seeing the kids and Hubby. It wasn't until mile 9 or so that my infamous knee issues started to kick in and I started to really look forward to finishing. Miles 10 and 11 were pretty exhausting, and my music playlist finally played a role in distracting me, but once I saw the sign for the final mile, I turned it off and just ran. This was it. I had done it all on my own and for all the right reasons, and had actually enjoyed myself. As I approached the finish line, I heard the air horn that signaled Hubby and the boys were nearby and did a little dancing-wave thing for them as I ran on, shouting "I love you guys!"

I got a tad choked up when the volunteer put the medal around my neck after crossing the finish, but didn't have time to dwell on the emotions since I had to walk for what seemed like another 13 miles just to get around the barricades separating the spectators and the racers.

As proud of myself as I am, I do have to say that the person who really deserved the medal this weekend was Hubby, who dealt with two little boys all weekend long, sprinting from viewpoint to viewpoint to ensure they'd be there for me, probably covering even more mileage than I did, and then tending to them for the next couple of days while I recovered, and the rest of the week, since I came home with a raging virus and have been in bed for almost the whole week. P...when I ran the first half, you were there, running by my side and believing in me when no one else did. When I ran the second one to try to get out of my depression, you were once again my rock, and you never let me hit bottom. And now, you were there to celebrate with me and our boys. You never doubt me. You never doubt us. Thank you (and I don't mean just for the flask).

Disney Princess Half-Marathon: Coming Full Circle

I started running to get away from an unhappy life. It was my escape--literally--out of "that house" and gave me an excuse to be by myself, to do something for me. I had never been athletic. I was one of those kids who got straight A's in every subject but begged the PE coach to "give me a D and just let me sit out." It wasn't that I couldn't do the things they wanted me to do; it was the discomfort I felt being watched while I had to do them. (I will not even get into the horror I felt whenever I'd come out to phys ed and see the Shuttle Run set up.)

But running was easy...not so much physically, since I literally couldn't go longer than 2 minutes at first without feeling like I was going to die...but emotionally. All I needed was a pair of sneakers and my headphones, and to just go: put one foot in front of the other. The results came quick and were easy to measure: At first, I just went around the block, running the corners and walking the straight-aways. Within a few days, I could run the straights and just walk the corners. Before I knew it, I was running 10 minutes straight. And then...my first 5k. Up until that moment, when I crossed my first-ever finish line, I had never ever been so proud of myself. A year or so later, I started toying with the idea of a half marathon. When I mentioned it to my nears and dears at the time, most of them scoffed, pointed, and ridiculed outright. "13 miles? You? There's no way."

Another year (and one divorce later), I crossed the finish line at the 2001 Walt Disney Half-Marathon.

Although there was no longer a need to escape my life, I kept running...although my distances rarely went over 3 miles.

Then in 2004, after nearly 2 years of trying to get pregnant and 13 weeks of a joyous pregnancy, Hubby and I had a miscarriage.

Devastation.

After a few weeks, I knew I wasn't getting "passed" it. Rock bottom was starting to feel pretty damn close, and I realized that if I didn't "do" something, I was going to drown.

So out of nowhere, I decided to go back for another Disney Half with the goal of improving my previous finishing time. Over the next 4 months I focused completely on this race, my training, and my fitness. It gave me something to do. It gave me an outlet for my stress, my thoughts, my emptiness.

At the expo held the day prior to the race, one of the vendor booths was set up for little kids to make signs to hold up during the race. I stood by and watched little girls and boys making banners with puffy paint and sticky letters and markers: "Go Mommy!" "You can do it, Daddy!" "We love you!" Surprisingly, I didn't break down then. I turned to Hubby and said, "One day, I'm gonna come back to do this race, and my kids are going to make signs for me."

The next day, I ran a good race and did beat my previous time, in spite of having a very upset stomach and a lot of nausea the whole way. When we ran through the Magic Kingdom and passed the Dumbo ride, the tears finally came. I mourned, right there on mile 9, for the loss of this little spirit, this baby that wasn't to be, this dream that had been shattered.

I came home and found out a week later that I was pregnant. Ben Kincaid was born on September 16, 2005.

A couple of years after having him, we decided to try again, hesitant and fearful that we'd have to go through another difficult time.

We got pregnant with Aidan Kai on the first try. He was born August 8, 2008.

* * *

Now, I'm going back.

I registered for the Walt Disney Princess Half Marathon, February 2011. A decade after my first big race, and 7 years after crying at mile 9, I will be running for my kids and for myself. We'll go back to the expo and watch Ben and Aidan make "Go Mama!" signs. And when I cross that finish line, this time by myself, I'll run into the arms of My 3 Men: the one who has run along beside me literally and figuratively, and the 2 little ones who came to join us, the ones who made me Mama.

Mommy Runs 5k in Tears

Most of the athletic events I've participated in have had some sort of psychological meaning for me. I can't remember even one race I have done "just for fun" (even when I said I was). I'm just not real big on the whole imposing physical punishment on myself for fun. I mean, don't get me wrong. I go to the gym religiously. I sweat. I strain. I run. I mountain bike. And I like all of it, but it has to have some other kind of purpose for me. I mountain bike because it scares the crap out of me. I run because it clears my mind. I go to the gym because I like how strong it makes me feel...yeah, physically, but in my head, too. That's where it counts for me. All the physical stuff has to have a mental pay-off for me.

When I did a 5k last December, it was to prove to myself that I could do one right after having a baby (okay, not right after, but as soon as my doctor gave me the OK). It turned into what I called my "3 in 4"...as in "3 miles 4 months after delivering via c-section."

So when I did a 5k this past weekend, it wasn't just for fun. I said it was, initially. I said I was "just curious" to see if I'd gotten better over the last year. But really, I wanted to see if I could beat my best time, back before I'd delivered 2 human beings. And guess what? I did. I even came in 6th in my age category...a total first. But the best part wasn't that. The best moment happened at the starting line.

Now you all know that I'm not particularly mushy about motherhood (most of the time), but I definitely had a mushy moment at the beginning of that race. Just a few seconds after I started running, I looked over to the sidelines and spotted them: My Boys. All of them. Daddy, camera in hand (as if I had not done about 20 of these in the past few years). Ben, his 4-year-old face scanning the crowd of runners. Even Aidan Kai, content in his stroller, eagerly watching the crowds and commotion.

I saw them before they saw me, so I had the chance to watch them for a few seconds. There they were, all 3 of them, looking for me. Me. And when they spotted me, they started yelling: "Mama! Go Mama!" Even Aidan's little face lit up and he started giggling and flailing his whole body when he realized who that particular runner was.

And I was shocked to discover that I was moved. Moved! Me! I even got teary. I mean, seriously, what the heck is that? Didn't you read my last post???

But yeah, I have to admit that the sight of these three "men"--my men--standing there, looking for me, cheering for me, there for me...it moved me. And I was immediately reminded of another race in my past...one definitely taken on for mental and emotional reasons.

Before I had Ben, Hubby and I had spent almost 2 years trying to get pregnant. And when we finally did, we miscarried. It was the single most devastating moment in our lives. And I knew, right then, that if I did not turn that into Something...if I did not Do something with that pain...it would consume me and I would crumble. So I chose to run the Disney Half Marathon, simply because it gave me something to do, something to think about, something to plan, and running was my escape. Running is what makes me feel strong. And I needed, desperately then, to feel strong.

So this past weekend, while I ran my little 5k for best time but disguised as fun, and I looked over at those boys...the one who got me through all of that devastation then...the one who dropped onto the bedroom floor and cried with me...the one who has been at every single one of my Important Moments cheering me on from the sidelines...standing there with these two little boys we made together...well, it was enough to make even a non-mommy-type like me go soft.