My very first half-marathon was almost a complete disaster. I had been dying to run a half-marathon for so long and, this past summer, I was finally able to sign up to run one with one of my best friends. We both ran on the Lake State Cross Country and Track team and both of us loved running long distances and pushing each other as far as we could go. She was the perfect running partner and if it wasn't for her, I probably would not have finished the race.

The end of that year I decided to transfer, thus ending my college running career. But, Trudie, my running partner, and I wanted to keep in touch and still compete together in some way. We decided the best way would be to run a half-marathon, since coach wouldn't let her run a marathon while she was in training. Although we could not train together, we signed up and counted down the days until the half-marathon at the end of the summer.

But, that summer came with its share of pitfalls. My plan was to be running 50-60 miles a week and staying in great shape. I loved the intensity of college running and I still wanted to continue that even though I was not longer going to run in college. As it turns out, working two jobs and around 50 hours a week makes that plan extremely difficult. I would come home from work exhausted and unmotivated to run. Some weeks, I ran 30 miles a week while others I struggled to run 15 miles. And, with the capricious weather of Michigan, the temperature was always in the 90s whenever I had time to run. It was extremely disheartening and frustrating for me and I worried about how I would fare running a half-marathon that was creeping closer.

Nonetheless, I continued to try and run as often as I could as the race drew near. That day came and Trudie and I were extremely excited to run together, being it my very first half-marathon. Little did I know how hard it would be to finish that race. We competed in “The Legend" Half-Marathon in Sleepy-Hollow State Park. It was a trail run, full of uneven ground and hills sporadically placed throughout the race.

We started off a little too fast but then settled into a good, even pace that both of us were happy with. Then, around mile eight or so the facade of control started to fall apart. Never in my five years of running competitively had I ever experienced what I did during the last few miles of that race. My body hurt more than I could comprehend and I knew I was not in good enough shape due to the fact that I could barely breathe and we had to walk a few times. No matter how hard races got during cross country or track, I never worried on whether or not I would finish a race, until then. I started to get frustrated and hopeless and if it would not have been for Trudie I might not have been able to finish or at least finish with dignity. I had all of these thoughts running through my head that were foreign to me and I was starting to get really angry at myself for thinking these things because I was a runner and I knew I could run 13.1 miles.

But, through it all we were able to finish at a decent time—under two hours—a little slower than we had hoped. Although it was a rough experience I am glad I went through it because it taught me that I am stronger than I think I am and that next time I really have to be better about my training. My next project is to compete in the Flying Pig Marathon with my dad in the spring. The training so far is going really well and I hope that my next showing is better than the last. I know that no matter how hard it is I can never give up because the reward of finishing feels better and lasts longer than the negative thoughts and moments of despair during a race.