Let's start with the basics. The Mesa Marathon is an elite course. Lots of people run it trying to BQ (Boston Qualify). I really want to run the half-marathon here someday, but I knew this year was not my year. Too many health issues. Too much stress. Not enough time, etc. The race postcard came and went, and I wasn't going to do anything about it.
Somehow, though, my husband got the mail and showed me another one. "I thought you might want to know," he said.
"Yes," I replied. "I know. I want to run the half sometime, but not this year."
"Are you sure you don't want to do something, at least the 10K?" He asked.
I hadn't really given it much thought. It seemed like a "waste" of money when what I wanted to do was run the half. His support, though, made me ponder. I like running. The 10K could be fun! So I signed up.
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Fast forward to race week. I've been really trying to stay well, but I had potential COVID exposure. I got tested and was negative, but still felt fearful. All week, I tried to eat well and go to bed early, but that did not really work out, or at least not according to my perfectionist standards, because life.... I did get to bed at 9:45 pm the night before the race. Wake-up was 4 am, though.
I got up, and got coffee for hubby. He was up, making the bed by the time I got back in the bedroom with the coffee. I didn't quite make my go-time, and when we got to drop off, I didn't know where to go, either. Hubby had known where to take me, but hadn't looked at the bus map. I thought he knew it all. We quickly tried to pull up the map on our phones, but the internet was slow (probably because of all of the people using it). Hubby figured it out. I kissed him and bolted, speed walking to the bus.
Once at the start location, I had to wait about an hour. I texted hubby while I waited. He replied, reassuring me that I did not need to worry, and that he hoped things would go well. (Did I mention that I was pretty anxious, and quite overwhelmed?)
Then we ran. I texted hubby as I got near his watching spot. I waved at him a bunch as I got close. It took awhile for him to pick me out of the crowd, but eventually he did. I kept going. He got in the car to go pick me up. I finished, with a shiny new PR. Before I could even call hubby, he had replied to my finishing text. He found me as I wandered about. He helped me pick up my drop bag. He watched Molly Seidel win the half. Then he made breakfast for us when we got home. Can we say support staff?
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I will write later about the actual race, but I think it is important to share the backstory first. There is really so much to racing: the finances, the training, the logistics, etc. Running is different when married, too, because it requires some sacrifice on the part of the spouse, sacrifice maybe he or she didn't sign up for. I am blessed that my husband has been SO supportive, and I have to attribute gratitude where gratitude is due. So thanks, my love, for all you do! Here's the more adventures, and hopefully more racing. Maybe, just maybe, I'll convert you one of these days, and if not, I'll love you just the same, because you love me, funky running and all.
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