I married a runner and one of my (many) toxic traits is that I think I can do what I see other people do. After cheering him on in many 5ks and half marathons, I saw people of all shapes and sizes completing the miles. I knew if they could do that, I could, too.
I’m not a good runner; I have terrible mechanics, a body that’s not exactly the epitome of an endurance athlete, and I’m quite slow. I completed my first half marathon on my 25th birthday, almost exactly one year after my dad passed away. I signed up for that race to celebrate my dad. He wasn’t a runner, but I wanted to do something hard, something I know he would have been proud of me for training for and completing. With tears in my eyes, I toed that starting line.
Fast-forward 13 years and five half marathons later, I found myself on the starting line of the RBC Brooklyn Half Marathon earlier this summer. For the last few years, I have entered the lottery for a chance to win a spot for the NYC and Brooklyn half marathons. Year after year, I get the “Sorry, you didn’t get a spot” email, however just days after vowing to focus on strength instead of cardio, I got the email:
Congrats! You’re Running the 2025 RBC Brooklyn Half!
Cue the panic and excitement. My spring quickly filled with miles on the treadmill and streets of Knoxville. Hours upon hours were spent pushing my body to its limit all with the goal of a finish line on the Coney Island boardwalk.
This wasn’t my first half, but the nerves were real. I was so caught up in this potential “once in a lifetime” opportunity. I didn’t have a goal finish time in mind, but I wanted to walk away feeling strong, uninjured, and satisfied. I mean, a PR would always be welcome, but I wanted to enjoy the race, take in the scenery, and soak up the moment.
The weather was quite toasty to start the race, but the first half of the race was through Prospect Park with plentiful shade. I was cruising along those first five miles. By mile six, I was tired of the park, I had to pee, and I wanted to be done. I wasn’t going to quit, but I would’ve really enjoyed that being a 10k race instead. After a bathroom stop (I had never actually stopped during a race to use the bathroom), I was pretty much over the race. I was so frustrated with myself. My nerves really ate me up leading up to the race and even more so on race day. I texted my husband around mile seven that said, “I want to do another one, but I want to do better.”
A little past mile seven, you (finally!) exit the park and start your journey on Ocean Parkway that takes you straight to the Coney Island Boardwalk and finish line. Before you can celebrate too much, you have to run the entire alphabet Avenue A through Avenue Z. Each intersection brought the excitement of another letter and just a little bit closer to that finish.
I was done.
I hate walking. I was embarrassed to walk, but luckily my starting corral surrounded me with people my speed and fitness level, so people were walking all around me. So much of running is a mental game. Your mind wants to stop, but your body can probably keep going. Or can you? Should you keep pushing? Should you walk, just for a bit?
I was taking a moment around mile eight when another girl started walking right beside me. I thought it was weird that she stopped right next to me and I gave her a double take. She looked nice, so I looked back, both of us wearing headphones, I mouthed “this sucks” (it may have been a more colorful set of words, but keeping it PG). She immediately removed her headphones and agreed whole heartedly.
For the next five miles we stuck together. We jogged between water stops, but walked through the stops together. During those walks, we removed our headphones and talked. We talked about ourselves, where we were from, about our families, and how we made it to the Brooklyn half.
We each pushed each other when we were both at our lowest.
What I came to realize in that moment is how grateful I was for her. I found someone experiencing the same difficulties as I was and it was comforting. It was welcomed. It was a bond that I’ll never forget, even though I will likely never see her again.
But, isn’t that applicable to life too?
When you’re going through something difficult, traumatizing, shocking or new, you find others who have also experienced a similar situation like divorce, death of a loved one, birth of a child, marriage, etc. You find a support group or person that understands. But, there I was, on Ocean Parkway, bonding with another human in a moment that should feel isolating. Life isn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but it’s the moments when you fight like hell to make it through something that colors your story. Those stories that you can say, “I really wanted to quit, but I didn’t.”
What I learned from running that race — the slowest half marathon I’ve ran — is that no matter what the clock says at the end, you get the same medal as the person who finished an hour earlier. You experienced the exact same 13.1 miles on the streets of Brooklyn, yet my experience is now my favorite half marathon experience. I was so frustrated with myself because I wasn’t doing as well as I wanted, even after all the hours spent training. But running humbles you. You never know what race day will bring. Will you rock race day with a strong run or will the race rock you and you claw your way through mile by mile?
Do things that scare you. Do things that you aren’t good at. Do new things. Do hard things. As Peloton instructor Matt Wilpers has said, “Put something on the schedule that scares you.” Fall is the perfect time to race, from 5ks to half marathons, and beyond, there are so many to choose from and the perfect weather to race during. The lottery for the RBC Brooklyn Half typically opens early December at nyrr.org, with the winners notified in early January.
