Running with Asthma

Let's talk about why you're here...

You're probably here because you saw the title of my blog, and wanted to read about running...

Well... Let's talk shop.

   I'm a runner. I've been running since 2012 (just after my husband and I moved from Washington State to Arizona) but I still consider myself a beginner. I'm not sure why I think of myself that way. Because I'm a sloooooow runner? Because I have to take walk breaks? I don't really know. I guess I should think higher of myself. 

   I've completed 3 races so far (a 10K, a 17K, and a half marathon), and I'm registered for 2 more races this year.


                               
                                     *Tour De Peevee 10K; Prescott Valley, AZ; September 2012

                                      
                                      *Kiss Me I'm Irish 17K; Glendale, AZ; March 2013

 
                                       *Whiskey Row Half Marathon; Prescott, AZ; May 2013

   I'm very proud of what I've accomplished. I haven't really raced a lot so far, but I've already done more than I ever thought I would do.

   Running and I have a love/hate relationship. I didn't exactly start this by myself. The first race (10K), I was coaxed into by a coworker who needed someone to run it with them. At that point I was not a runner, period. So I laughed in her face when she first asked me. I couldn't believe it. I mean who does she think she's asking? There's plenty of people in this place that run regularly. To this day, I still don't really know why she asked me, accept maybe because we were just good friends.

   Whatever the case was, I agreed. For no reason at all, I agreed. So, I stocked up on my inhalers and started training. Man, that sucked. I'd walk out my door, walk a few minutes to "warm up" (really, I was just trying to work up the courage to start running), run down a hill, stop, wheeze a lot, then do that over and over again. It was torture. In those times, I was really talking down to myself. Why can't you just run like everyone else? Why do you have to look like a fool out here for people to see? You obviously can't do this. You're an asthmatic, you're not built to run. Why don't you just call it quits. I'd repeat these words in my head all through my "runs". These words would cause me to stop running and start walking. They would cause me to stop on the side of the road and wheeze and cough, wishing that I remembered to bring water with me. These words would cause me to be embarrassed to be out where people could see me as they drove by.

   But they didn't stop me from finishing.

   Whether I went out to run for a mile, 3 miles, and so on... I finished. I think I really just didn't want to be that person that tried something, failed, and went back to my "old self". The "self" I didn't know anymore. At this point I'd lost 40 pounds, and I didn't wanna go back to something that took away years of my life. I wanted to do something with my life that meant something to me. Not to anyone else. Me. Something that I thought I could never do. Something that required me to push my physical, and mental, limits. Something that would change how I looked at the world. Something that would change how I viewed myself.

   I still hated it, though.

   It beat me up every time I went out there. I wanted this race to be done, just so I could say I did it and move on.

   So race day came. It finally came. I was nervous. I was tired (people don't voluntarily get up at this hour!). I was not ready.

   I walked up to the starting line with Cristina -my coworker- ipod tuned in, my muscles already aching for what was about to happen. The bell rang, and we were off.
  I immediately fell behind her (she did this in her sleep), and I just wished this would just be over. The headphones were already hurting my ears, and the music really wasn't helping.
  Shinsplints? Really?? I thought I'd gotten past this stage in my running! My legs were getting numb from the pain. I couldn't breathe. It seemed like an hour went by. I approached a mile marker.

 "Mile 1"

   Ugh. Wow. I'm such a crybaby. Oh, here we go with the trash talk. I can't believe you! It's been 1 lousy mile, and you already want to quit? REALLY?? 

 "Mile 2"

    We left the pavement for dirt paths now. The music was driving me nuts, and I really couldn't figure out why. I'd done the music before... Oh, only I did it on the treadmill. Whenever I trained outside, I didn't use music because I was afraid I wouldn't hear dogs and cars approaching.
   I took them off.
Aaah. That's better. By this time, I was run/walking next to the "stragglers", so all I really heard was the occasional person shuffle past me, in between the birds chirping for breakfast, a cow mooing, and so forth. Not too bad. Something relaxing to take my mind off of the pain.

"Mile 3"

   My asthma is really sucking. I'm having to walk a lot more than run. This sucks. I really don't want to be in last place. I'm sure by now my coworker has already crossed the finish line. I can't believe this. Where's my inhaler? And where's that mile marker?? I should be approaching it anytime now!

...

"Mile 5".

   Wait. What? When did I pass mile 4?? I was thinking so much about how sucky I was at this point, that I didn't pay attention to the last mile marker. Wow! That extra mile went way fast! And I wasn't even looking!

   Hmm... I may actually do this.

   The dirt turned into pavement again, and I was being passed by the half marathoners now.

   "Woo!"

   "Go girl, you got this!"
  
   "High five! You can do it! Come on!"

   Police were guiding traffic, giving everyone high fives as we passed, shouting encouraging words. Cars were honking and cheering as they passed us. People at the water stations cheered and screamed "Come on! Just a little bit more!"

  "Mile 6".

 Only .2 to go! I started running again. I felt revitalized. I felt awesome. I felt like a tiger! Well... maybe a little tiger cub. To think that all that happened on that course, the birds chirping, the beautiful sunrise, the cheering, would have been drowned out by my headphones. No offense to those who use them, music is a great motivator. Just, for me, it wasn't as motivating as hearing the positive vibes around me.

   I came around the corner. There's Cristina! She ran up to me and started running to the finish line with me, shouting "I'm gonna beat you! You need to beat me!" Of course, she'd already finished long before, but it was at least motivating enough to get me sprinting to the finish line.

   When I crossed that finish line, and felt someone take off my tracker, hand me a towel, and put a medal around my neck, it was... unreal. I just couldn't believe I did a 10K race. ME! An asthmatic, overweight girl with no desire to run.
    My husband and my dad came and hugged me. I was handed a banana and a protein shake. Then my husband told me "Hey! Sign up for another race, and I'll run it with you. You've inspired me, Babe!"
   I've inspired him??
  
   Ever since that day, the day that started out as crazy, painful, agonizing, then turned into a day of serious accomplishment, a day that changed my life, a day that changed my way of thinking of myself, I've run, with my husband by my side. I've run through the pain. I've run through the trials. I've run through the wheezing.

 I may be the slowest runner out there. But I take it just as seriously. It's a requirement for me. I have to do this for me. To remind myself that if I want to do it, I can. But I have to work for it. I have to beat my thoughts, my pain, my weaknesses. I have to beat me. And only me.

Happy Running.