The Day I Discovered a Marathon Inside Me
“No yoga and no running for almost 12 months was the worst mistake I have ever made in my life. Not only was my body complacent and stuck in an unfamiliar rut, but my self-esteem was shot.”
By Ali Valdez
April 2007. I was just finishing my infant care leave after delivering a beautiful and healthy 10lb. daughter. What I had not yet finished with was carrying the extra baby weight: sixty extra pounds or fifty percent of additional body weight that clung fiercely to me.
At home with a baby over a Seattle winter after recovering from a C-section and thoracic output syndrome, I was a mess and in the worst shape of my life. No yoga and no running for almost 12 months was the worst mistake I have ever made in my life. Not only was my body complacent and stuck in an unfamiliar rut, but my self-esteem was shot.
Invitation
My friend Liz from Whidbey Island, a destination treasure just past Seattle, invited me to visit her family. She was running the Whidbey Island Half Marathon that weekend and thought it would be nice for me to get out of the house and for her parents to meet the baby. This sounded like a nice reprieve, and an encouragement to find my way back outdoors in the anonymity of a small island.
What I did not expect was how I spontaneously opted in to join her. Not just me, but little Mathilde, too. Remember earlier when I mentioned I used to run? Well that was typically 3-5 miles, and I was about a year out from any running at all. In no way was I prepared or conditioned to take on a half-marathon. But I decided to walk and Liz’s mom, Margie, would pick me up at five miles.
Half-Marathon
The morning was crisp, as expected of an early Washington morning, but the sun was shining and it was going to be a beautiful day. Whidbey Island is one of my favorite places in Washington, with beautiful beaches, staggering water views and hiking ranges.
The races started with Liz in the runners’ pack and me in the back with my monster maroon-colored stroller, fumbling about with a diaper bag and squishy toys. Mortified in spandex, I started with a slow, awkward walk. Impatiently, I wanted to find my former self, simply break free and run! I started to jog about a bit, but it just wasn’t coming together for me, which got frustrating.
The buggy is an awkward companion and I was still getting my usual numbness in my hands. Refusing to allow my disappointment to ruin the day, I resigned to keeping it simple with a steady but brisk pace. All of this “drama” and I wasn’t even at the three-mile mark!
Then, once I hit the five-mile mark, I had no desire to stop. I made the decision to get to ten, then call my ride in.
Mile Eight
After the inevitable diaper change in someone’s front yard and an on-the-side-of-the-road breastfeeding, I noticed around mile eight–I was alone. I was just a stretch ahead of the walking pack, still considerably lagging behind the runners. I decided to just stayed focused on making my daughter proud and getting to ten miles for myself. That would feel like a half-marathon caliber distance for me.
Mile ten came and went. Slowly, I began to run, picking up the pace steadily, oddly exhilarated and finding my running legs … finally. A surge of new-found energy hit me. Where was this second wind coming from? Mile twelve hit and Liz, who had long since completed her race, was yelling my name and cheering me on from the sidelines.
Anyone who runs these races–thighs cramping, thirst groaning, clammy sweat slowly pearling along the sides of your face–comes to appreciate the people who devotedly stand around cheering you on. In a moment that still touches my heart, Liz rejoined the race she had already completed, running by my side. It meant so much to me and made it clear: I was finishing this race. It is a simple gratitude moment for me: she was the one to encourage me to try something I had never imagined possible and stuck with me through the course of it. This is what we all look for … hope for … in our friends.
Towards the last mile, she took over the stroller and said, “Run!”
I took off–chubby new mommy on a mission–running into Coupeville and completing the race (just a blink over 13 miles), ending in a wicked sprint to the finish.
New Beginning
It was the beginning of many years of traveling all over the country running half-marathons. It always inspires me to get up so early and be greeted by thousands of totally psyched-out people in a fantastic mood (with or without coffee!) at 6am on a Sunday morning.
Liz or some friendly stranger can’t always be with me. I’ve learned that sometimes we are out in life, facing it alone. Yet I always find my favorite Running Companion (like in “Footprints”) always by my side, carrying me when the cramping hits, steadily encouraging me further when I hit the wall and want to stop. It is a prayer time moment for me, a chance to reintroduce myself to me, to “sit and wait” in motion, appreciating the struggles along the way.
One Year Later
One year after that half-marathon on Whidbey Island, I completed my first full marathon in Calistoga. It ended at Napa High School with my own dear friends from Vancouver there to greet me with hugs, feed me Advil and treat me to the most delicious cheeseburger of my life. They understood my tears of joy and pain, they knew where my gratitude was going and who was by my side, silently, every step of the way. Never again will I set unnecessary limitations on what I can accomplish, or believe that even on the road, going steady and slow, His presence is bereft or not accessible.
Virgil says, “Fortune favors the bold!” My hope is we would find what that means for each of us, and take on the challenge of pushing out any limitation paradigms.
Here’s what I learned: When life presents new opportunities and we have friends supporting us along the way, let’s not walk, my friends, let’s RUN!
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My dear SheLoves sisters, I would love to hear:
- When has someone called out the half-marathon in you?
- Where are you stuck right now?
- Any other thoughts?
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About Ali:
My name is Ali Valdez and I live between Seattle and Houston. I am a Christian yoga instructor, academic and writer, and devote most of my time in servitude to my students, who are yoga teachers or studio owners developing yoga communities in their cities and towns. I have also worked and led Kindergarten and small groups at my church. I love religion, philosophy and man’s inquiry on all things of higher order. I have devoted my life to study and am versed in the metaphysical, philosophical and topics of comparative religion. Practically, I love wellness, nutrition, the gross and subtle energy bodies, healing, alternative medicine, fitness, exercise, and healthful levels on many levels. I have done crazy things like marathons, sky-diving and state-of-the-art spa treatments. I look forward to connecting with you all and sharing whatever insights I may have that serve you in your aspirations. For fun, I travel the world, host retreats globally, read and write on my blog, the Gadabout. I also party with my Bun, a little five-year-old named Mathilde. You can learn more about what I do at sattvayogaonline.com
