~~The Gayla Pink Apple~~
I wasn’t supposed to be a runner. But, I am.
Running has given me some of the most memorable moments of inner joy, peace, and a new dimension of my strength.
Thus far, my journey of running has been somewhat collectively calm, quiet, and deliberate. After cancer recovery, I knew exercise was a MUST in my life going forward. I was searching for some form of exercise which was a fit for my ability and personality. My ability was zero - I am not athletic. My personality best described an introvert. Do not mistake an introvert as one of weakness, it will bite you in the butt.
About five years ago, I started exercising, walking on the treadmill or doing the elliptical, along with a few light weights. It took me a while to get to the point I could attempt to run outdoors instead of the treadmill at the fitness center. I was out of my comfort zone doing any kind of exercising much less running.
I remember the first time I drove myself to the big dam bridge (two years ago) and ran a portion of the running trail along the Arkansas River - I ran alone. I couldn't believe the thoughts that ran through my mind. OMGoodness, I think I can do this. I can't believe my legs are strong enough to run. I believe I can run!
I shall never forget the first time I ran the Little Rock Marathon 5K (March 2012) -- my body was flooded with excitement and a feeling I'd never felt before - it's hard to describe. I crossed the finish line in awe of what I had just done. It was my second 5K, but the first I'd felt this way. It was also my first official 5K with a timing device on my shoe, and professionally organized. To date, it remains my favorite run. I have not, yet, felt that feeling again. I hope to again run an event and finish with that same awesomeness.
I continued with some significant runs and a few events - significant only to me. Last year, I ran the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. I ran the Brooklyn Bridge in NYC. I ran the Greater New York Susan G Komen Race for the Cure in Central Park, NYC. Just last week I ran the NYC Jingle Bell Arthritis Foundation's run along the Hudson River. None of them compared to my first Little Rock Marathon 5K though. The Golden Gate Bridge came close - it was great. These runs were with my daughter which made them extra special to me.
I decided it was then time to increase my distance from 3.1 (5K) miles to 6.2 (10K) miles. I didn't think I was burning enough calories with 3 mile runs - afterall, this was my cardio. My running pace was so slow I just didn't burn enough calories. I decided to increase the distance instead of trying to run faster. In order for me to run faster - I would need to push my lower body/legs a lot harder and I was afraid I'd hurt my legs/knees/ankles. I thought I had a better chance of building endurance instead of running faster. I started training for the 10K.
My first 10K was the Little Rock Marathon 10K last year (March 2013.) It was a very difficult day and a huge disappointment. But, a big accomplishment anyway, merely because I crossed the finish line. It was 25 degrees that morning - I was figidity, a bundle of nerves, cold and miserable at the starting line. However, shortly into the run, I found my comfortable pace. The first four miles were great - feeling exactly the way I needed my body to feel. Then, mile 5 was a steady incline, which took every ounce of me, and kicked my behind. I had trained for that dang incline, too. I knew it was there - it was no surprise. I bombed and the last mile was a major mental battle. I crossed the finish line exhausted, dizzy, excited, disappointed - all sorts of different emotions. It was definitely a run from the heart!
While running the final 1.2 miles, I reminded myself - over and over - repeating the words in my head..."you run the first 1/3 with your head focusing on setting your pace, not starting too fast, settling in (I did that) -- you run the second 1/3 freely, letting your body stroll, feeling the moment, the air, the sky (I did that) -- so now, Gayla, run the last portion from your heart, just put one foot in front of the other and keep pushing - your legs won't let you down, you trained. Your heart won't let you down, it's strong. It's your mind tricking you. It's mind over matter. Overpower your mind and you'll be fine!" I did that, too.
To this day, I still feel the last quarter to half mile of the run...with my throat closing up, fighting back the tears, and struggling to swallow; my feet kept going. I made the turn from Chester onto LaHarpe (Cantrell) for the finish stretch and finally allowed my eyes to blink, which let the tears flow. I struggled to keep running - telling myself only a little ways to go - don't stop now, just don't stop.
My chest starts to open, my eyes start to beam, my face showing the tears of emotion. I heard the finish line microphone announcers, the music, the voices of people, the crowd standing shoulder to shoulder clapping and cheering loudly for every runner - including me! With a smile from cheek to cheek - tears pouring down my face - my feet hit the blue mat and my hands flew high above my head - reaching up to the sky - I knew who had carried me over. My eyes softly glanced up above the clouds, as my lips quietly whispered "thank you Lord." I had crossed the finish line.
The little girl in me couldn't believe that this non-athletic, introvert, uncoordinated, awkward, and clumsy girl had just run 6.2 miles. But, the big girl in me was saying, Y E S!!! OMGosh, I did it!
I scrambled from within me for composure as the volunteer put the 10K medal around my neck. A 6.2 mile run was such a little thing compared to the half or full marathon so many people were out there running that day. The staff treated me as though I had just run 26.2 miles. I was exhausted, shaken, dizzy, weak, and trembling. A gentle and kind volunteer quickly grabbed my shoulders, leading me over to his area, covering my shoulders with the silver wrap thingy for warmth. "Are you alright, ma'am?" I shook my head - no, unable to speak at the moment. Unable to speak because I was desperately trying to hold back the tears of disappointment. "Here" as he quickly unwrapped a little debbie cake. I ate it and sipped a little juice - sat down and within minutes I was fine. Ready for my picture to be taken with my medal and all smiles. WHAT A DAY!
To this day, I still feel the last quarter to half mile of the run...with my throat closing up, fighting back the tears, and struggling to swallow; my feet kept going. I made the turn from Chester onto LaHarpe (Cantrell) for the finish stretch and finally allowed my eyes to blink, which let the tears flow. I struggled to keep running - telling myself only a little ways to go - don't stop now, just don't stop.
My chest starts to open, my eyes start to beam, my face showing the tears of emotion. I heard the finish line microphone announcers, the music, the voices of people, the crowd standing shoulder to shoulder clapping and cheering loudly for every runner - including me! With a smile from cheek to cheek - tears pouring down my face - my feet hit the blue mat and my hands flew high above my head - reaching up to the sky - I knew who had carried me over. My eyes softly glanced up above the clouds, as my lips quietly whispered "thank you Lord." I had crossed the finish line.
The little girl in me couldn't believe that this non-athletic, introvert, uncoordinated, awkward, and clumsy girl had just run 6.2 miles. But, the big girl in me was saying, Y E S!!! OMGosh, I did it!
I scrambled from within me for composure as the volunteer put the 10K medal around my neck. A 6.2 mile run was such a little thing compared to the half or full marathon so many people were out there running that day. The staff treated me as though I had just run 26.2 miles. I was exhausted, shaken, dizzy, weak, and trembling. A gentle and kind volunteer quickly grabbed my shoulders, leading me over to his area, covering my shoulders with the silver wrap thingy for warmth. "Are you alright, ma'am?" I shook my head - no, unable to speak at the moment. Unable to speak because I was desperately trying to hold back the tears of disappointment. "Here" as he quickly unwrapped a little debbie cake. I ate it and sipped a little juice - sat down and within minutes I was fine. Ready for my picture to be taken with my medal and all smiles. WHAT A DAY!
I wasn’t supposed to be a runner. But, I am. And my life is better because I run!
Gayla
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