College turned me into a runner. Well, more specifically, Hannah, Joe, and Caitlin turned me into a runner. Some of my best college memories consist of early morning wake-up calls and the sound of my feet pounding pavement with some of my best friends right next to me. I learned the city of St. Louis by running. I learned to cope by running. I learned my own strength by running.
I received a wicked big running related “God-wink” before I came to Houston as well. A few days after I committed, I found myself in full blown panic mode. The “What if?” questions became all consuming. What if I don’t like it? What if I settled? What if I put what I wanted above what God wanted for me? I opened my Instagram, and immediately knew I would be fine.
I saw that A 2nd Cup, a non-profit coffee shop in Houston dedicated to combatting Human Trafficking, posted that same week that they were chosen as a Run for a Reason charity for the Houston Full and Half Marathon. That meant I could run, fundraise, and join a coffee community fighting for justice all at the same time. It was a practical moment of consolation, but a moment nonetheless!
But then I got to Houston and realized that training was going to be way harder than anticipated. Between my work schedule, community commitments, hours of daylight (and it not being super safe to run in the dark), not having my typical running partner, and the emotional toll of all of it combined resulted in training not really happening. I did some runs for sure, and my roommate running the half too was great motivation, but nothing near how I have trained in the past. I went from wanting to PR at the beginning of the season to barely knowing if I would be able to finish or not. For my comparison loving competitive self, that trajectory is not a great feeling. I almost didn’t want to run. If I wasn’t doing it super well, was it worth doing at all?
The week of race day, I also couldn’t find my watch charger. This season was the first time I wore a running watch and was able to track speed and distance on my own. I was super frustrated that I wouldn’t be able to track my race day splits or pace myself by looking at stats. Truly though, looking back, God knew what God was doing.
The race was one of the slowest I’ve run…ever. Still a decently respectable time, but never something I would envision saying I was proud of for myself. Yet, it was also one of the best races I’ve ever done. And the pride does not rest in the number on the clock, but instead in the reflection and growth that I saw and felt and ran into during those 13.1 miles.
Not being able to track my time asked me to just be in the moment, as the moment was, without any pressure for the moment to be any different. It asked me to marvel in the gift of thousands of people coming together to race, cheer, and lift each other up. It asked me to look up and take in this crazy wonderful and messy city.
The route took me past some of the places I went during my first 48 hours in Houston. Places that were laden with fear, tension, sadness, and worry that it wouldn’t be enough and that I would be inadequate. That I would be let down and that I would let other people down. My introduction to Houston was not smooth, and I can confidently say that I did not like the city when I arrived. Running through them on a brisk January morning though, I realized that the places hadn’t changed one bit, but I have.
Houston felt like home for those 13.1 miles. It was my city, and I was theirs. Memories of “what if” have been joined and replaced by memories of “remember when”. Remember when we went to outdoor concerts? Remember when we couldn’t figure out what exit to take in that Rotary? Remember the first time we went to River Oaks?
This race was never supposed to be about racing time, but rather about relishing in it. The time I get to spend outdoors, in community, and yes also by myself doing something that I love. This half made me fall in love with running all over again (and with Houston for the first time), slowly and steadily being reminded of what a gift it is to run home.
Sarah and I post-race repping A 2nd Cup!
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