I realize I am a bit behind on my blog entries, but life has been crazy. I ended week one of my 40 and Fabulous journey with a 4-mile run that stretched across the Coronado Bay Bridge. How's that for ending on a high note? No pun intended.
Every year for the past 25 years the Morale, Welfare and Recreation Department has hosted the Coronado Bay Bridge Run. MWR provides quality of life programs for military families, such as on-base movies and activities, and access discounted tickets to local attractions.
Although the run itself was tough (only because I hadn't trained in months), the view from up top was remarkable. What's even better is that I got to share it with my family.
Last year I did this run by myself. I signed up because I needed something to keep me focused on running and staying healthy. I signed up while hubby was deployed. And while this race would be a physical no-brainer because I had already ran a half marathon, the thought of doing it alone was terrifying.
You see, when I ran the half marathon, I had a team of coaches, running mates and a mentor cheering me on to make sure I achieved my goal. They taught me the do's and don't of the sport ... how to breathe, run, stretch, and even how to pick out the proper running gear. They held my hand the entire time and I am grateful.
This time, it was all me. There was no one to hold my hand or teach me anything because I had learned what I needed to know; that I can do anything that I put my mind to do. However, I was still a little scared and lonely.
Last year I saw many families walking and running together, posing and taking pictures as they got to the top. Even though this was something that I needed to do for myself, I wished I had my family to share that moment with as I reached the top.
My comfort was that they were waiting for me at the finish line. They stood cheering me on and holding a sign that read, "Run, Mommy Run. You make us proud, love Curt, Ty and Mique." I promised to sign them all up next year. And so I did.
This year's run was a great family bonding experience despite the silent competition between hubby and myself. Neither of us wanted to be the first to give up and walk, especially as we reached the bridge. The view from up top was worth the sweat. We stopped briefly to take pictures. The opportunity to do this only happens once a year during the Bay Bridge run.
Unless someone is jumping off or there is an accident, the bridge is never closed to traffic. And certainly there is never a time to stop at the top long enough to get that million-dollar shot of the view.
Hubby and I ran at a much slower pace for the sake of the kids, who had to run/walk it. That part was bittersweet because I thought of all of the "old people" comments my son often makes. Both he and my daughter were exhausted on the walk back to the car. Even though they didn't say it, I knew they had a newfound respect for me.
Every day for the past year or so, I would put them on the school bus in the morning and set off on a 5-mile run. They would get to school and wait for me to pass by the playground so that they can give one last wave goodbye before they started their day. Running along the bridge with my husband and children showed me just how far I had come, not just as a runner, but as a person.
There was a time when running brought about the worst in me. Hubby can attest to this because my shameful behavior was at his expense. I behaved like a complete two-year old in front of his coworkers and his chief, which means "boss" in civilian language.
What's crazy is, he married me anyway. Imagine that! He knew what he was getting into and he did it anyway. He's just as stubborn as I am. The story goes as such: We were engaged to be married and with only three months to go, I found this wedding dress that I could not live without.
The problem is that wedding dresses don't exactly go by your normal dress size. It's as if they make them three sizes smaller and slap a size eight on the tag. So to further bruise my ego, I could not fit the largest size that they had in the store. I had to special order the largest size made for the dress out of a store in San Diego (This is a whole other story for another blog entry). Mind you, I was not overweight. I just wasn't a stick.
My option was to find another dress or lose weight to fit into the dress. Well, I chose the latter. Didn't I tell you I was stubborn? Again, with no plan in sight on how to do this, I was invited to run with my fiancee and his PT (physical training) crew after work.
Having never done any running outside of relay races in physical education and that dreadful basketball fiasco I told you about, I was a little scared. But I was sure I would do well. After all, I had attended track races during my time at Arizona State University. A couple of my sorority sisters were track athletes. One of them even competed in the '92 Olympics.
Let's just say that I watched enough track races and knew enough runners to become a great runner, right? In hindsight, I can only laugh at my naiveness
On the day of my first PT session, I showed up straight from the hair salon. That was mistake number one (Here we go with the hair thing again). I was looking too cute. Of all the days to run, it was windy and we were running in the middle of the Arizona desert dodging tumbleweed and rattlesnakes. The combination was a perfect setup for me to make a donkey out of myself.
I will spare you the details. Let's just say that when swearing and being outright belligerent did not work, I subccomed to throwing a tantrum. There I sat in the dirt with my hair looking like Sho' Nuff from the movie The Last Dragon, sand and dirt stuck to my face with my teardrops, refusing to take another step because there was sand in my shoe and my shinsplints were killing me. His coworkers even gave me words of encouragement.
Hubby had every right to disown me and maybe even stop the wedding. But instead, he kneeled down and picked me up. He brushed the sand off of my face, kissed me and told me that he would do whatever it takes to help me fit into the dress, as long as I never attended another PT session. I had been officially banned from any and all PT sessions, per his chief. LOL!
We spent the next three months running on our own. Even his best friends supported the cause and ran with me on the days he had duty in the firehouse. Now that's love!
I lost the weight for the wedding. In fact, the dress was a tad too big. Soon after, I quit running. I was told that running is not for everyone and I should move on to other things. At that moment, it became a bucket list entry.
Someday I will run a marathon, I told my husband. He laughed it off and said, I will run it with you - that was almost 13 years ago. I still have not run the marathon, but I am close. I have a half marathon under my belt, two 4-mile runs and hundreds of miles on my running shoes. Indeed I am close.
I used to say, "I am not a runner, but ..." I did this the entire time that I trained for the half marathon. Now, I can actually bring myself to say, "I am a runner."
Do you remember that sweet and sour thing that I referred to? That's what running is for me; sweet and sour. I did not particularly enjoy it, but I know that it's a sure way to keep the weight off and relieve the constant stress that I feel when hubby is deployed.
It helps that the scenery where I live is gorgeous. There are so many running paths. My favorite stretches along the reservoir and the Olympic Training Center. On any given day you can see the row teams training and rowing in unison. It's an amazing sight to see just like view from the top of the Coronado Bridge. I think I will make this a family tradition.
Although the journey to 40 and Fabulous has been a long and sometimes rough one, the roads taken to get there have taught me a lot. Whether it be the dusty roads of Yuma, Ariz., the rocky paths of Chula Vista or the scenic view from the top of the Coronado Bay Bridge, I know that I am not afraid to run. I am not quite 40, but achieving my goals (with God's help) certainly makes me fabulous!
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