half marathon pregnant

[…Continued from PART 1 and PART 2]

Soon, I saw a group of women, and I set my mind to pass them. After a few minutes, I quickly breezed past them. While I wasn’t going at an extremely fast pace, I was above three mph. This speed, I knew, would get me to the finish line in a little over four hours. So, I kept this pace.

Then I saw another group of people and set my next goal to pass them, and I did. I followed this short-term goal mindset for miles upon miles. I’d set my sights on someone in the distance, and I’d try to pass them. This helped to pass the time as well as set a pace. Soon, I had increased my speed to over 3.3 mph.

I kept telling myself, as soon as I got to my next goal—be it, person, ahead or mile marker—I would slow down to an easier pace. But, I never did. The excitement and momentum of the race finally gave me wings, and I kept going.

One thing I noticed about endurance races like these is, it’s 40% physical and 60% mental. It takes a lot of willpower to be with yourself for four straight hours. While my playlist helped A LOT, I spent a lot of time giving myself pep-talks like:

“Keep going, you’re doing great.”

‘Lean back, chest up, breathe.”

“Decrease your stride, increase your speed.”

The miles seemed to pass in a blur. I barely remember miles 2-4. Miles 5-6 were memorable just for the fact that we shared the path with the Marines and Navy, who were taking a PT test at the time. As they ran past me, it got me thinking about my time in the military and how much I had grown and changed since getting out.

half marathon pregnant

Miles 7-10 I started picking up the pace a bit as I knew that I was over halfway finished. My longest training walk was 10 miles so, I knew I could at least get to there. At this point, my knee/calf started bothering me again as did my back. I had to adjust and shift my base of support multiple times to find that “sweet spot” where neither hurt at the same time. This kept me entertained for a while.

At this point, I was trying not to be overtaken by a group of women in gaudy hot pink shirts. I don’t know what it was about them, but I DID NOT want them to pass me. Every time I sensed them getting closer, I’d pick up the pace. Probably not the best idea, but it kept the race interesting for me.

I kept this up until mile 11 and then I had to surrender to the fact that I had consumed a lot of water, and Gatorade and the porta potty was calling. That quick 5-minute break had them ahead of me by a quarter of a mile, and I never did catch back up.

One thing I did at every mile marker took a picture of it. It helped me to mentally and physically mark where I had been. Each mile, I sent a text to my husband at the finish line to let him know where I was.

As I continued on the path, I started to get weary. My playlist was getting boring, blisters had started forming on my feet despite the fact that I didn’t develop any during training, and I was just plain tired. I wanted to stop and throw in the towel but the desire to pass that finish line was too great, and I kept going…One. Foot. At. A. Time. 

I decided I wasn’t going to send my normal text to my husband with the mile marker at mile 11. I wanted to surprise him and send it at mile 12.

I was using the Endomondo app on my phone to help me keep track of my distance, pace, and time so I knew that it was coming close. Endomondo reported I had gotten to mile 12, and no sign of the mile marker was anywhere in sight. I kept going and nothing—there was no mile marker. I started to panic thinking they had messed up the distances (apparently they had mismarked the distance on a previous race).

I was so tired by this point. I just wanted to stop and sit. But then I saw it, the one thing I had been waiting to see the entire time…the tents that marked the race start/finish lines. I practically ran at this point to the finish line.

When that finish line was in sight, I could hardly contain my emotions. There were my husband and two little ones cheering me on as I passed over that line and got my medal.

I DID IT!

As much as my feet hurt and my legs started cramping up, I basked in the glory that I had just completed a walking half marathon, while pregnant, in the heat, and in under my 4-hour goal. I finished in 3:56 (about a 3.3 mph pace). But more than anything, I finished.