Finish What You Start

Four years ago, I had some lofty running goals. At least they were lofty for me. My running was strong – again, strong for me. I ran consistently and incorporated it into my life’s routine. I had completed two marathons and a few dozen half marathons. I completed my arbitrary mileage goals and consistently knocked out 100-mile months.  

So I wanted to focus on a new type of goal: time.  In my 2014 goals, I set out to run a sub-25 5K. Today, I can’t even recall how big of a stretch goal that was, although I’m still certain it was a big one since I remember reading articles and blog posts on how to break the sub-25 mark.

Runner’s World declared that “busting the 25-minute barrier marks you as a ‘serious’ runner. It requires commitment to more mileage and focused workouts, and can take years to achieve.”

As a middle-of-the-packer, I knew I’d have my work cut out for me.  

So I joined a local running club, and signed up for track. It was the early, cold months of 2014. Track was held at a nearby high school, where dozens of runners made their way in the dark evenings to do laps around the indoor track with support of a coach and workout plan.

Each Tuesday we were to meet at 6:30 p.m. for group drills. The first week, we did a timed mile.  On the second week, a wave of nausea came over me. It felt like extreme car sickness that just wouldn’t go away. A day or so later, I found out I was pregnant.

I knew women could run through pregnancy, and I had every intention of doing so. But I wondered if running hard – like I’d need to push myself in track – was wise for a newly forming baby.  Plus I just couldn’t shake that nausea. I skipped a week of track. Then another.

I decided to skip the rest of the session, in favor of reading everything I could about growing a healthy baby, and following most of it. The decision on whether to focus on a sub-5K or the baby was an easy one.

I jumped in fully to being a mom-to-be.

In October 2014, we welcomed a healthy baby girl, Lily, who forever changed our world for the better.  A little less than two years later, her sister, Sadie, joined the crew, showing us that our hearts’ capacity for love could grow when we didn’t think we could love any more than we already did.

In those early days and months, I dabbled in running but shelved the idea of “big” running goals while I muddled my way through new motherhood, then through the working mother world. My running goals became simpler: find ways to incorporate running into this new crazy life, run a Mother’s Day 3K on my first Mother’s Day, and enjoy the short window of life where I could push my new little ones in a jogging stroller while they slept.

As I set out my 2018, I knew I wanted to incorporate running into my life again in a more intentional and focused way. I bought a new Garmin, and set a goal to run a half-marathon and a longer-term goal to complete 500 miles this year. Both would require consistency and focus. Just what I needed.

I followed the local running club on Facebook to keep up with the local scene. A post about early-morning spring track caught my eye.

This could be my chance to finish what I started.

I’m a finisher by nature. If I do something, I do it fully. And on time.

So bailing on track four years ago has stuck in my mind. Not quite a failure, but definitely unfinished business. I knew evening track was out of the question. Adding anything into the intensity that is the after-work hours is unthinkable. But early mornings? Maybe.

Just how early are we talking? The coach’s instructions called for runners to arrive by 5 a.m. to warm up on their own. Group warm-up would start a 5:15 a.m., followed by the day’s track workout. I’d be home before 6:45 a.m., just in time to jump into the morning routine at home.

I set my alarm for 4:15 a.m. on a Tuesday in early May. 4:15 a.m.?? Who does this? A better question would be, why am I doing this? I wasn’t training for anything. I quickly learned that I was like most of the other 15 or so people who showed up at sunrise each week.

We were mostly women, none of us really training for anything in particular. Most were like me, just wanting to improve, to push ourselves, to run with others, and to learn.

Day 1 started with brief introductions, led by Coach Sharon, followed by a timed mile. My mile ended at 7:48, which I felt pleased with. We were grouped by like-abilities, and I ended up in the Purple Group. The workouts varied weekly, and we sometimes did laps focused on form and breathing. I felt myself improving and learning. I pushed myself to hit the time targets.

Most importantly, I felt AMAZING after they were done. I felt so energized and accomplished. I felt strong. My head was clear. My legs were just the right kind of tired. Between the warm-up and workout, I usually logged 4-5 miles, at paces above my average. All before 6:30 a.m.

The eight weeks passed quickly, in total and the minutes of each weekly session. I noted that it didn’t rain on a single Tuesday in May or June, except maybe the Tuesday track I missed in favor of a trip to Colorado.

My non-track runs were improving. My paces improved. I felt strong and steady.

On the final week, we ran another timed mile. I hoped for marked improvement, given how I’d been feeling and running. As I passed by the timer’s clock (yes, there is an actual clock), I noted my time: 7:47. I had improved by one second. One second?!

At first I started to question why I’d gotten up so early and put in the energy each week. The thoughts were fleeting, though, as I remembered how much my running had improved, overall.  I couldn’t let one day of testing reflect the effort and performance.

But it wasn’t just about improving. It was about finishing what I started, even if it took me four years.

I had barely started my internal celebration when I saw the announcement that summer early morning track would be starting in two weeks.

So I signed up, committing to a summer of weekly 4:15 a.m. wake-up calls. After all, I may have been checked the track program off my to-do list, but that sub-25 5K is still lingering out there…