Written By Shelby Coolidge
How does one “almost” run a half marathon? Welp, poorly. But I will tell you what happened here…
So I am 85 pounds down and fit in a way I had never been before and I felt at least…stable. Not always good or great but I felt stable. I should have felt happy though right? I was finally in a Medium and size 10 jeans! But I felt like I moved through life in a blur, I don’t really remember much from that time I was losing weight…small moments yes, but its like my eyes were closed most of time. I did have happy moments, happy feelings, and happy memories but so much is just a fog.
In March of 2020 I got an opportunity to go to Charleston, South Carolina with my sister and mom. This trip was an important reward in my journey and offered one of my favorite non-scale victories. Besides my wedding photos, or obligatory group photos I avoided full body shots like the plague. But this trip with my sister gave me multiple opportunities to practice being silly in front of the camera, a pivitol skill in the long term direction my life would go…little did I know. I had a blast, and I loved the photos we took and the memories we shared being silly, where I was not worried about what they would look like and instead enjoyed the process. I am so grateful for what that trip gave me.
Then Covid Hit and suddenly I was home alone while my husband worked, I had been furloughed from work with unemployment and stipend checks coming in, and it felt really good. I know many people are going to think I am a monster for saying that, but hear me out. I am not saying Covid wasn’t incredibly scary and devastating for so many people, I have so much empathy for those who suffered during that time, and the lifelong effects after, and those who lost people they loved. I would not wish that on anyone. That was just not my experience, and if I could have shared my experience with everyone I would. I want nothing more than people to live full, healthy, fulfilled, loving lives just to be clear. My experience was like a dream…mostly. I was suddenly making more money and I didn’t have to go to work for it. And even better, I no longer had to do everything for everyone or go to group events that I didn’t want to attend because that shit overwhelmed me. I was free to just take care of me and my dogs for once. I got to live my dream life for about two months, I cleaned and updated the house we were renting, I had time to train and exercise my dogs, I actually had time to enjoy some hobbies. It was heaven! Until it wasn’t.
Without the rigid routine I counted on to keep me accountable and the mounting isolation, my habits started to slip. I started using exercise as a way to “pay for” the binging I was starting to do. I couldn’t stop myself and my old habits were creeping in. I had been training for a half marathon that was to take place May 4th before covid hit. Naturally it was cancelled but the option to run it virtually and receive your medal was available. By the time the race was days away I had not run in two weeks, was not joining the zoom CrossFit classes my coaches had been hosting, and I had been overeating on the couch playing video games or doing crafts or napping. There was so much napping, it was glorious…but also very avoidant of me.
I knew I was slipping so I decided two days before “race day” I would run my race virtually, I drove around for hours mapping out the route to get me my 13.1 miles. I made a 13.1 Playlist with all the Bangers I needed, made a Race Day Shirt, I still had no idea how to fuel properly but I packed the goo and the smoothies and got my camel back filled with electrolytes. As someone who never wanted to feel like an obligation or a burden, I rarely asked for what I wanted. I only asked for what I needed and generally only when I had run out of options myself. I never expected anyone to show up for me, it was always a surprise if anyone did. But I told my family I was doing it so I could not back out and in the hopes that someone would be there, besides my hubby who of course was there.
My sister, who had pushed me into CrossFit to begin with, told me she would cheer for me at the half way point, which aligned with bypassing our CrossFit gym. We chatted about goal time for being at that spot and I set off feeling absolutely amazing. I was nervous but on top of the world, I was going to do this!
As I approached the half way point I started to really take a dive. I went for the goo, if you haven’t taken goo in a practice run I DO NOT RECOMMEND taking it in your first big race. It was disgusting and so fucking sticky. I couldn’t eat it so I tried to wrap it closed and put it in my bag but it got everywhere. My shirt was sticky, I was sticky, and it was hot as hell that day. As someone with sensory challenges I was immediately miserable and overstimulated. I stopped to germX my hands in the hopes it would help but sure enough made it worse and left a gross tacky feeling on my skin.
I trucked on up the hill to the half way point. As I crested the hill I saw them…my family, my coaches, fellow gym members some I had never even met before all screaming for me. They held signs, played Eye of the Tiger, and gave me the greatest feeling I had ever experienced. People showed up for me and it wasn’t because they were obligated. They saw me, saw the effort I put in to achieve this. They saw me as an athlete completing something important, that feeling was indescribable. I will never forget what these people did for me in that moment. I am so grateful to the coaches, friends and family that showed up that day, all thanks to my Big Sister.
I rode that high for about 1/2 mile before it all came crashing down. My legs were lead and my mindset started to spiral. I trudged on and navigated around unplanned construction, rerouting me slightly. Cars waved for the next mile or so as they all went about their day giving me final cheers. I worked my way towards home where my Husband, Sisters, Mom and Nieces waited for me to cross the finish line. When I knew no one could see me anymore I stopped and tried to recalibrate myself to finish this. But I did not have the mental strength and instead I spiraled about how I would be letting all these people down if I didn’t finish, they would have wasted their time on me, that I would yet again fall prey to self sabotage and fail, if I don’t hobble my way home. I got moving but not well. I didn’t feel it counted if I walked any part of the distance, so breaks to recoup had me pacing in the place I stopped to ensure I was not “cheating” saying I ran it…little did I know that ship was about to sail.
After grueling stop and go miles and many tears, I finally got to my street and turned the corner towards home. The cheers started and I pushed my legs to end as fast as I could. I kicked it up and finished at a sprint. I was dead after that. I collapsed in the grass my body already seizing up muscles and lungs ready to burst. But I had made it home, and there were people there for me. I had did it. I ran a half marathon, it was the biggest thing I had ever done for myself.
I collected myself off the ground stiff and barely moving and into a chair with ample Gatorade and dinner. I finally looked down at my time to find 12.86 miles on my run app. I had not run 13.1. I was devastated and embarrassed, I failed again, and I couldn’t get out of the chair to finish what I had started. I was done for.
If you are still curious of how any of this has anything to do with dog training or saving a life, but are brave enough to keep reading to find out, then come back for the next piece of the puzzle. I will warn you weary traveler, the journey is a long one but involves life lessons, epic victories, devastating defeats and some badass dogs…
