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I've been a member of SparkPeople since about December 2012, when I had a little over 10 pounds to go until I reached goal. I've found it to be helpful, keeping me accountable and also keeping me on top of great-tasting healthy recipes.

I recently submitted myself as a success story, and was asked to be featured on SparkPeople Radio as a feature success story interview. I happily accepted, because as this blog has likely insinuated, there's nothing I love more than talking about myself and my weight loss.

I recorded my interview this past Thursday (October 24) and the podcast on which I'm featured came out today. I invite you to check it out at http://www.sparkpeople.com/myspark/sparkradio.asp -- if you are reading this past the week of October 28 and have to dig through back episodes, my two-part interview is included on Episode 52 (back episodes located here).

I'd love to know what you think about the interview and encourage you to sign up for a free SparkPeople account! It's a great, supportive community on there and it's been a great resource for me.

Just over a year ago, I finished the Big Ten Network 5K race -- the first race I had ever actually tried to run. I jogged a good majority of it, and finished in a little over 40 minutes. For the next two weeks, I was so sore from the race I could barely move. But as soon as I could move again, I started running, beginning the Couch to 5K program.

Fast forward to today, October 23, 2013, three days after my first half marathon. I quit being sore on October 22.

That's right, on October 20, about 14 months after I started my love affair with running, I ran my first half marathon in Des Moines.

I finished it.

No, my time was not ideal, but I was coming off an extremely recent injury and thus had not been able to finish my half marathon training in time.

But regardless, I finished it.

Several months ago, my Des Moines-based aunt, who used to do Ironmans and at age 55 continues to run marathons and organizes the Drake Relays, was happy that I had lost a lot of weight and had done it through running, and she invited me to participate in the Des Moines Half Marathon. She and my cousin were using the half as a training run for the 2013 New York City Marathon, for which they were registered last year, but obviously Superstorm Sandy cut that trip short in 2012.

It took me a long time debating on the issue, but I finally took her up on her offer. I was well into half marathon training when disaster struck: injury. Suddenly, I experienced debilitating tendinitis in the back of my knee, which then extended to a very tight and sore area in my calf that swelled tremendously (to 1 1/2 inches bigger than usual) when I ran at all. It was like running with a giant rock tied to my calf -- huge, hard, and completely inflexible.

I'd been on track to complete my training just in time, but because of the injury, I missed the last four weeks of training for this race.

Physically and injury-speaking, I felt good heading to Des Moines on Saturday, certainly well enough to run. However, I'd run about nine miles total in the past three weeks, and felt horribly undertrained for the race. But I tried not to think about it. I headed off for Des Moines early Saturday morning and arrived to my aunt and uncle's house early in the afternoon.

Shortly after I arrived, we left for downtown Des Moines (and unrelated, experienced the most spectacularly horrible car accident I've ever seen to the cars directly behind us) for packet pickup. It was a very small expo, and they'd run out of women's small jackets, citing that after they ordered jackets, "1,000 more people registered." So I didn't get my sweet quarter zip jacket, but it's getting mailed to me (and it better arrive as promised!)

Afterwards, we drove on the course route for a while as I followed along on the course map we'd received at the expo. It wound through a park and then around a lake, and over bridges crossing the Des Moines River. I cannot deny that it was a very beautiful course -- and extremely flat, perfect for my first half marathon.

That night, my family and I loaded up on a spaghetti dinner and hit the hay early. I slept remarkably well considering my nerves, and woke up bright and early on a crisp, chilly Sunday morning. I had laid out my clothes the night before, but weighed a few of my options; for example, I'd thought I'd wear some arm sleeves, but I put them on and having never worn them before and just wearing them for a few minutes, I feared that they would be extremely uncomfortable. I opted for my jacket instead, and pulled on the CW-X compression calf sleeves I'd gotten earlier in the week to deal with my calf pain. (Related to that, to be honest, I don't know if I could have run the race without them -- those calf sleeves are freaking brilliant and saved my life; my calves were the only thing that didn't hurt post-race.)

We headed to the Locust Street Bridge over the Des Moines River, where the race started and finished, and took our positions. The gun went off and we began. My aunt, cousin and I ran together for about the first three miles, through the road part of downtown Des Moines. My cousin, who ran cross country at DePauw University, is obviously a lot faster than me, so she let us know she'd be breaking off at the half marathon/marathon split (when the two races split courses at about Mile 3) to run a bit faster.

At that point, I was still feeling pretty good. I'd been running at a comfortable pace and wasn't feeling any pain. Just after the split, I got a bit toasty despite the sub-50 degree temperatures and I shed my jacket. For a while, I felt fine. A bit slow because of the long injury layoff, but fine.

Then, around Mile 5, my left hip flexor, for no foreseeable reason, started screaming in pain. I had to pull off to the side after a water station and stretch it a bit. And had to continue to do so after almost every aid station thereafter. Probably because of my undertraining, around Mile 8, every step I took felt like a massive effort -- my legs simply did not want to keep moving forward. Then, at Mile 10, likely a result of my GERD, I started having a lot of trouble breathing. And I don't just mean the "in my head" trouble breathing. I started wheezing and eventually, around Mile 11, I told my aunt we had to stop because I literally could not draw breath.

It was a little bit upsetting, because not only had I worked so hard to get there, but also because I felt like I was letting my aunt down, and also like I was wasting this gorgeous course and my first half marathon experience on my muscular and breathing issues.

So when we finally approached the finish line, my aunt encouraged me to go into another gear. We bolted for the finish, blowing by the spectator-lined home stretch on the Locust Street Bridge and triumphantly crossing the finish line.

Crossing that finish line after running 13.1 miles, I was pretty emotional, just thinking about how far I've come and how even a year ago, I would never have conceived this possible. A year ago, it took me two weeks to recover from a 5K. By Tuesday (the race being Sunday), I felt healthier than I had in several weeks, since I wasn't having any tendinitis or calf pain, and my hip flexor pain from the race had dissipated.

Yes, I was hoping to complete this half marathon in 2:30 or under, and that didn't happen, but the ultimate goal of my very first half was to finish it. And I did that. I finished it in a "jogging" time, not a walking time. I earned a very shiny medal that says "Half Marathon" on it.

This half marathon goal was just to finish. Subsequent half marathons will be my time to shine and get a better time. I'm looking ahead to January, to the F^3 Lake Half Marathon I will be running. Now healthy again, I will be resuming my half marathon training and bettering my endurance so that this January half will be more successful. I excel in cold weather running anyhow (my 10K PR was in freezing rain and icy conditions).

I'm so excited for having done what I did, and for what the future holds. People keep asking me if now I will run a marathon. I can't answer that. I don't know if I can or am willing to run that. Yes, I wanted to drop dead after my first half marathon, but a) it was my first half marathon, and b) my undertraining due to injury was evident with my hip flexor and breathing problems. But I actually really enjoyed the half marathon distance. I didn't even run with any music, and it did not even feel like I was running for nearly three hours. If I can do this distance without pain or breathing issues, I can envision myself really excelling at this distance. It's completely surmountable, and that makes me think that in time, a marathon could be completely surmountable.

As for the race itself, I think it was extremely well done. Packet pick-up, besides the jacket mishap, was fairly flawless. I adored the beautiful, scenic, flat course. Aid stations were well stocked, not only with fuel, but also friendly volunteers (gotta love Midwestern hospitality). Portapotties were plentiful throughout the course. What mostly impressed me was the spectatorship, which was pretty remarkable throughout the entirety of the course. The bridge home stretch finish line was totally stacked with cheering spectators, which really pushed me toward the finish. The finish line goodies at the end (food, drinks, etc.) held a very impressive array, with sandwiches, pizza, yogurt, chips, bagels, sliders, I could go on and on with how much food they gave us!

I'd absolutely do Des Moines again. When I'm better at the distance, I'm sure I will enjoy the experience that much more. However, next year, my target race for this particular weekend is the Runner's World Half Marathon Festival. Taking place in the shadow of the old Bethlehem Steel mill, it would be a course close to my heart, as my grandfather (this aunt and my father's father) worked at Bethlehem Steel for his entire career (probably 10 years of it at that Bethlehem mill).

I'd definitely like to thank my aunt, uncle, and cousins for their incredible hospitality and support for this race. Not only did they welcome me no holds barred into their home for a weekend, but my aunt also sacrificed her usual pace to run with me and deal with my stoppages, struggling and coming off injury.

I have no shame in saying that I am damn proud of myself. I never would have thought this possible. But I am a half marathon finisher. And this is only the beginning.



Completed:
IMT 2013 Des Moines Half Marathon
October 20, 2013
Des Moines, IA
2:42:34

I know that my friends consider me "the runner" of the group and totally figured I'd be running the Chicago Marathon. In fact, I was flattered when I went shopping at the Chicago Marathon Expo on Saturday and most vendors thanked me for my purchase with a "have a great race tomorrow" and I had to correct them (sometimes). I guess I look like someone who can run a marathon, which is pretty amazing for where I used to be.

But regardless, no, I did not run Chicago. I have only been running for a little over a year and I have my first half marathon one week from today. I'm not even close to being ready for a full marathon. I don't even know if I want to do a full marathon (we'll see after my half if I'd at all consider that).

But I found another way to get involved in the 2013 Bank of America Chicago Marathon. My running club, Oak Park Runners Club, has manned Aid Station 13 (just before the Mile 18 marker) for over 15 years. I certainly wasn't going to be running the marathon, so I signed up to volunteer.

We arranged a small carpool beforehand, and I drove three of my fellow OPRCers to the aid station at Taylor and Loomis in the Little Italy neighborhood of Chicago, in the shadow of Rush University Hospital. Obviously the traffic was light at 6:30ish on a Sunday morning, so we arrived at the station just before 7. Our club had already been setting up well in advance, so we signed in, got our credentials and sweet BoA Chicago Marathon jackets and hats, and asked what we could do to help.

I was assigned to take empty gallon water bottles (after filling cups for the tables) to the recycling truck. So I went back and forth between the sidewalk and the truck for a good hour or so (I would like to thank Albert from Chicago Streets & Sanitation for being so kind and helping with that). After what seemed like only 15 minutes, the alarm was sounded that the first of the wheelchair racers were coming through (their wave was the first at 7:15). It was so inspiring to see these folks pushing through. I can't even imagine how exhausting it would be to push my own wheelchair through 18 miles, let alone 26.2.

Soon, the elite runners started to come. None of those folks were going to be taking any water at our station, so I stood and watched and clapped as the lead pack came running through, following a car with their time ticking on top of the hood and a big television camera on a golf cart-type vehicle filmed them from their front.

Shortly thereafter, American Dathan Ritzenhein came through by himself (he ended up finishing 5th). After the remainder of the major elites went through and the field started widening a bit, it was time to shine.

I fully admit, I was totally terrified to be handing water off to people. I'd never done it before, and as a runner, I know how much this race can mean to people. I didn't want to totally miff a handoff, or even worse, dump a cup of water on a runner unintentionally due to a miffed handoff.

However, when I handled my first few handoffs, it was actually very easy. Being a runner, I know that it's easiest if a water person sort of moves their hand a bit with you as you take it so there's minimal spillage. So I used that approach, and stayed dry for most of the day (only excepting when a runner quite unintentionally tossed a half-full water cup right at my foot and it splashed all over my leg) and had almost 100% flawless handoffs. Only exceptions were if someone did a sneak attack and did not look at me or indicate at all that they were taking water from me just prior, then the handoffs were not so smooth.

Once we got to the "normal folks" (i.e. what I would be) of the race, it got a bit more crowded and I was absolutely loving it. People were so thankful to us for volunteering, and I was just trying to cheer on as many folks as possible. The whole experience was just so uplifting and positive that I was totally inspired. It almost made me want to run a marathon. For a moment, I literally thought "a marathon wouldn't be so bad!"

I was so pleased with the whole experience and how fantastic the runners were (literally, I did not encounter one unkind or rude runner) that I wish there was a marathon every weekend. I would 100% volunteer again, as it was a truly fun and inspirational experience. We had great tunes to last throughout the day, and I was in good company with my running club. It was especially, er, special when a fellow Oak Park Runners Club member who was racing came through, as we all shouted and yelled encouragements to them, and I wasn't as nervous handing off water to my running club friend Keith, etc. as they came through.

Literally, I've always been of the mind, even now, that I would never want to run a marathon, because 26.2 just does not sound fun to me. But after working Mile 18, it almost makes me want to run a marathon. It makes me think that I could, if I really wanted to. We'll see, but I know now that I absolutely could do it.

I'd like to thank the wonderful people who ran Chicago today (you guys were beautiful and amazing and so kind!) and my fellow volunteers who made my job easy and fun. Congratulations runners, I am so proud of you!

I wanted a good, nearby, neighborhood 5K to race prior to my October 20 half marathon. I'd picked a race on October 6 and registered, but it then got cancelled and so I was race-less. I kept up my radar and less than a week before race day, I signed up for the Itasca Oktoberfast 5K. The swag bag looked pretty sweet (a long-sleeved shirt and a tech beanie?) and the small entry was very appealing (registration is capped at 750 registrants -- this year's race ended up being about 650 according to race management).

However, about two days before the race, and two and a half weeks before my first half marathon in Des Moines, disaster struck: injury. A bout of popliteus tendinitis, which I have never before faced, cropped up and made it very difficult to move. Thankfully, I am a CARA Member and have access to the free NovaCare Injury Hotline, which I called on Friday before the race. The physical therapist on the phone said that I should be OK to run provided I was not in debilitating pain, and obviously to take it slow and stop immediately if I was feeling that something was very wrong.

Saturday morning, I woke up with my leg feeling slightly better than it did the day before, but it was still pretty iffy. Either way, I planned to go to Itasca to pick up my packet, since I paid for the shirt and such. Once I got warmed up and walked around a bit, I felt that I was OK to go, albeit slowly.

Packet pick-up was smooth: with the small entry, I didn't have to wait at all, and I got my bib and full packet in a matter of seconds. The shirt admittedly is quite cute. It's not a tech shirt, but I still very much like it.

The gear check was the equivalent of a mom-and-pop operation, which I loved, as my bag was one of about ten checked. We headed to the start line about 10 minutes before official start, and the gun went off.

I set about jogging slowly. By the end of mile 1, I needed a bit of a walk break since my calf was burning, so I took one. It was sort of liberating racing without the pressure of feeling the need to PR. I knew I wasn't going to, so I actually (despite my pain) enjoyed the race. At my slow pace, I was able to enjoy the course, which featured some lovely homes along the way. The roads of the course were entirely closed off, so the course was quite wide open and I never felt like I was going to be bumping into people. Volunteer direction was great, so there was no chance of getting off-course.

After the race, free brats, hot dogs and bagels were available (including some lighter turkey brats). Racers over 21 enjoyed basically unlimited beer courtesy of Samuel Adams (Oktoberfest was being poured from a mobile truck draft).

Overall, I really enjoyed this race. The small entry was fantastic (sometimes you really just need a small entry race for some room), the unlimited beer and brats made it seem not only like Oktoberfest but also like true Illinois. The age group/team awards looked pretty sweet too -- beer steins, medals, trophies, etc. I actually would have gotten 5th in my age group under normal circumstances, but as it was, I ran a 35:55 while suffering with popliteus tendinitis, which is pretty good considering. But that's the benefit of these smaller races is that you actually have a chance to place in your age group, particularly if you're in a popular age group like me, 25-29 female, which seems to always be the largest age group.

I'd absolutely do this race next year. It was nice and low-key, small entry, nice course, and the swag bag and post-race amenities were very nice. Thank you to the Itasca Runners Club for this great race!

Completed:
Itasca Oktoberfast 5K
October 5, 2013
Itasca, IL
35:55