Disney Race Report

Last week I ran the Disneyland Half Marathon, a race I was beginning to believe is cursed for me. I registered for the race a few years ago, paying the hefty registration fee for the privilege of running through Disneyland while all my favorite characters cheered me on. About a week before that first race I came down with a bad case of bronchitis and was unable to run...Unfortunately, Disney does not give out refunds, even if you're sick :-(

I was so excited to register again this year--this would be MY year at Disney. I'm in the midst of marathon training, after all...what could go wrong? As we all know, my training has not exactly gone smoothly. I've encountered a few bumps along the way and am still hesitant about how my body will react to the stresses of long runs.

Long story short, out of nowhere I ended up with a major pain in my left foot. It started out as an annoyance 0n Friday afternoon, but by evening I couldn't walk comfortably on it. Saturday was worse and I spent the day resting it, icing it, and slowly testing my weight on it only to be disappointed. Sunday morning, race day, was no better. I woke up and dressed for the race with no illusions--there was a strong chance I wouldn't be able to run it. I didn't want to risk injuring myself further and compromising the marathon in October, but I had really been looking forward to Disney as something fun and as an estimate of my time for the full marathon.

I decided to try running it, but at nearly every step I knew that I could stop at any moment. The pain made it difficult to extend my toes or to push off with my foot as I ran. One mile turned into two and although I was uncomfortable, the miles just kept adding up. By the time I reached the 10 K mark (6.2 miles), I was really hurting. I stopped frequently to walk or just stand to the side. Did I want to have someone come and pick me up? Was it really that bad? No, I decided that I could at least walk the rest.

I made a stop at the medical tent at mile 9 to ice my foot and take some Tylenol. When I left that tent, I knew that I would finish the race. Not because I felt better, but because I had already made it so far. What was 4 more miles when I had already made it 9?

I crossed the finish line at 2 hours and 52 minutes and wore my medal proudly.

What I'll take away from this race is the importance of being flexible with my goals. While I had a goal to run the half in under 2:30 that goal quickly changed to simply finishing the race. I spent so much time visualizing the race and anticipating my strategy that to overhaul that pattern of thinking completely was difficult--I'm not always as flexible as I should be. While I fought back angry tears around mile 8 I came to realize I had two choices: I could be angry and upset at the unexpected and let that ruin my experience or I could rethink my goals, adapt my expectations and have fun with what I could do.

Guess what I chose?