My Proudest Running Moment

I belong to an awesome online running club, RunJunkEes. On their Facebook page, a fellow member posed the question: “What was your proudest running moment?”

Just as I was getting into running, I had a very close friend who was diagnosed with cancer. My husband, two close friends and I had “Team Jen” shirts made; whatever race we ran, we would take a photo of ourselves with our shirts on and send them to her. She later told us that while she was going through her chemo treatments, they helped lift her spirits.

I ran my very first 10K in honor of her–when people cheered me on for my show of support for my friend, I declared, “next year, I’ll run a half marathon to celebrate Jen kicking cancer’s ass!!” I said it, and knew in my heart that I meant it.

The gauntlet was thrown, and I started my training program. The Omaha Marathon was my first 10K; it was only right that it would be my first Half. (A year later, it followed suit as my first full.) I worked hard and piled up the mileage. When the day came, I started with the attitude of, “Barring a serious injury, I WILL finish.”

The weather was perfect that day; a little chilly at the start, but never too cold or too warm. The Omaha Marathon course, of which the 10K was a part of, was notoriously hilly, but I only walked through a couple of water stops, and ran the entire course. My husband and a few wonderful friends rode their bicycles, hopscotching the route and cheering me on. They kept my energy up and a smile on my face.

Towards the end, I climbed one last monster hill through Little Italy, and started cruising down through the Old Market and towards the finish. My legs were tired but steady as the final miles ticked away.

With one mile left, it hit me. I was going to do it. I was going to be a half marathon finisher.

I don’t have any diagnosed form of asthma, but when I get very emotional, I can have wheezing fits, where I can only make shallow breaths, and no air seems to fill my lungs. As I thought about what I was about to accomplish, about the work I had put in; about the amazing husband and friends who helped me along; about the bold promise I had made to a friend a year ago, the air caught in my throat. I wheezed a couple of times, and feared I would have to stop in my final mile to get my breathing back under control. Instead, I steeled my resolve, took a few quick puffs of breath, and pushed on to the finish line.

Now, I’m just over a week away from my fifth half, and Jen’s been cancer free for almost a year…

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