13.1

Four months ago, I never ran past half a mile. Yesterday, I ran 13.1.

I like to shoot the shit with my clients while we’re training, and one day, I said that if you gave me two years and I did nothing else but train, I could run a marathon in like two hours. Someone who ran a marathon before said, “Oh yeah? How about you do the half marathon first.” This happened in December. I signed up for the Brooklyn Half through NYRR and had the unfortunate pleasure of being picked. I asked Joe Holder if he had a program I could buy, and he told me to download the Nike Running Club app. It was free, and honestly, for someone new to running, it’s exactly what I needed. 

I started running in late January and became injured within three weeks. I took two weeks off and came back apprehensive but determined. I also didn’t start running outside until one month before The Half and thank god I did because the race would’ve been tremendously more challenging. My only regret was that I didn’t run outside earlier in my program. I joked with people saying I have too much melanin to run outside, but that was bullshit. Running in the cold is hard, and I also foolishly thought I’d get sick—not true because I also ran in the rain and was gucci. 

Leading up to the race, I half-jokingly said I wanted to get hurt so I had an excuse not to run. One part of that became true—I strained my right calf six days before the race. I did what I could to alleviate the pain and man up. I came too far to give up. I also pressured myself to finish the race in under two hours, thinking that would make me happy and seem legit. That was bullshit. The win isn’t the time you take to complete a goal; it’s in the journey. The destination is just a cherry on top. You discover parts of yourself you didn’t know existed through adversity. 

The support I had from close friends helped. The guidance and encouragement from Marlon and Fitz were invaluable. One important lesson from this period is “pay it forward.” These two guys have done several races and just wanted to see their brother succeed. I’m forever grateful. 

Throughout training indoors, one method I used for motivation was two shadows. On the treadmill I used, and because of how the lighting is set up, I had two shadows running with me five days a week. I made up that my dad and mom were there to support me. When I told my mom I was doing the race, she told me it was her dream to run a marathon when she came to this country. Sadly, that didn’t happen. She also told me how proud she was to hear of what I signed up for. 

I got as much sleep as I could for the race. I was nervous and fine at the same time. When I feel overwhelmed, I talk less and think more. It’s like a calm before the storm moment. When I got to prospect park, I met two women with an incredible story. Everyone has a story; you never know what people have been through or are going through. Melissa came from Louisville, Kentucky, and Cecilia was from Texas. Mel’s husband died earlier this year from cardiac arrest while training for the race. Cecilia was his coach. Melissa decided she would run this race for him, and Cecilia was there to support her. 

I’m at the start, and it’s indescribable how it feels to move with a wave of people as one. I felt good and free of pain or worry in the beginning. There were random moments when I couldn’t stop smiling because I couldn’t believe what I was doing. Good things happen when you commit to a process. The moment I felt I would give up came approaching mile 9. The rain got the best of me and my feet. It felt like my toes were jamming into a wall with every stride and like someone was stabbing the arches of my feet, especially the left one. But I didn’t come this far only to come this far. I ran and walked the rest of the race. I was no longer concerned with time, only that I wanted to finish and see the smile on my mom’s face when I told her I did it. 

I finished with a time of 2 hours and 16 minutes. If you told me a year ago what I would do a year later, I’d call you crazy. It turns out I did something crazy after all. It always feels impossible until it’s done.