There are a handful of accomplishments in my life that make me really proud. However, there is one that really stands out: running a half marathon. Don’t get me wrong, I’m super proud of my daughter and the fact I’ve been married for nearly 30 years. However, that 13.1 miles ranks in the top five for sure because it is something I never thought I could do.
In my 30s I started running with one of my best friends. We both wanted to get into better shape and figured running was as good of a way as any. We started slow but kept at it. After a few months, we did our first 5K. It was a tough course, but I finished second in my age group. Now, there were only three people in that group, but hey! I beat someone.
For a long time, I was content with 5K running, but then something happened. I became a mom. Fuck, that was hard. I was working full-time in a demanding job and had an even more demanding kid at home. I needed an escape. I was about to lose my mind.
Could I run farther? Perhaps. I decided to train for the Derby City Half Marathon which is part of the Kentucky Derby Festival. Going in, I didn’t know if I would actually compete, but I was determined to train for it. Training would assure me of multiple hours alone every week. I desperately needed time by myself.
There were a lot of half marathon training schedules online. I picked one. I then bought a good treadmill because I started training in January and I don’t do the cold.
I started off strong. I would go to my basement three days a week and run whilst watching mindless TV. It was heaven. I was also getting in great shape. What could be better? Shit didn’t start getting real until about seven miles. When I hit that mark, I had a decision to make. Was I really going to do this? I decided yes.
It was also at this point it got warm enough to run outside. That was good, but much harder. You know, hills and all. I persevered. Saturdays were my long days. As I kept adding mileage to my run, I continued to surprise myself with what I could do. Sure, I had to walk some, but I got the miles in.
Two weeks before the actual event I ran the full 13.1 miles. I wasn’t taking any chances and stopping at 10 as the training schedule suggested. Fuck that. I needed to know I could do it all. I did.
Then something terrible happened. The day before the race, I woke up with a terrible cold/flu. I felt like shit. I tried to go out and run one mile to loosen up and it damn near killed me. I just sat on my porch and cried. How could I have done all this work and not finish? Ugh. This was a cruel twist. Oh, and I should mention, it was also my birthday.
After more crying and soul-searching, I decided I was still going to try to do the race. I got up at 5 a.m. the next morning and started medicating with every cold remedy under the sun. I even put some cough drops in my sexy fanny pack for the race.
It was one of the most exhilarating things I have ever experienced. The highlight was running on the Churchill Downs track as they played old Kentucky Derby races on big-screen TVs.
It was not a fast run and I had to walk a little toward the end, but after about three hours, I crossed the finish line and they put the medal around my neck. I sobbed, climbed into my husband’s car and promptly threw up my spleen into a Kroger bag.
While I realize my motivation was to get away from my family, running that race made me a better wife and mother. It also taught me I can do the really hard stuff and that my mind and body are pretty damn amazing.
Angela Traver
What is this blog about? Well, it's a general blog, but it is also a very specific blog. If you get that reference, you get a gold star! I have been a public relations professional and writer of press releases for more than 20 years—primarily in the booze biz. I decided to do some writing for fun and embrace the humor that gets me through most days. Hopefully it will make you chuckle—or at least smile. I’m a certified crazy magnet, and more than a little nutty myself, so buckle up. Also, I have two vices—profanity and red wine/whiskey. You’ve been warned. It should also be noted, that I’m a HUGE Bob & Sheri fan. I’ve been a listener for more than 20 years. This opportunity is a dream come true and it may have made me cry. That being said, I cry at everything. If you are into booze, dogs, food and/or knitting, hit me up on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter (although I’m terrible at Twitter and it scares me) @kyspiritsgal. You can also find all my previous blog posts at www.kyspiritsgal.com.
I have always been the rebel and I was/am stubborn. Growing up I heard that I needed to act more like a young lady, but I was a tomboy. Comfortable in my 501’s, tanktops and flip flops. When I was made to wear a dress I had a change of clothes stashed on the side of the house where I changed into then changed out of after school. Guys and girls didn’t see me in a dress until the last week of my freshman year.Which I wouldn’t have if I took my friend Rick serious and told him no when he asked me to be his escort. He literally carried me to his car and drove me home to change when I showed up in jeans, tanktop, and flip-flops. He would dress me if I didn’t change. I changed.
When we returned back to the campus, I hear ” Hey Teri, you have legs! ” my response was “what do you think I been walking on, my hands?”
By 27 years old I decided to take automotive technology in college and landed a job at a dealership as an automotive technician. I was top in my class amf loved the job, but my family was always telling me that I needed to get a more traditional job. I never did and retired doing something I loved.