For most of my life I have been very active and always participated in both team and individual sports throughout my school and college years. In high school, I played every sport under the sun – you name it I probably tried it at least once. When I got to college, most of the sports I had done during those years were not readily available to me at my university, so I was in a position to try something new. On my second day, a friend and I were approached in the Student Union by two guys recruiting for the rowing team, and I was intrigued. I had never really been exposed to rowing other than in a gym, and although I knew that it was extremely physically demanding, I was excited by the idea of getting out on the water in an actual boat, so I signed up.
My freshman year at rowing was amazing, and within a few months, I was hooked on the sport. So much so that when I went home to San Diego in the summer between my first and second year, I begged my parents to let me go to an 8 week all-intensive rowing camp at San Diego Rowing Club on Mission Bay. I woke myself up at 5 am every morning, drove myself to training, which was twice a day 7 days a week, and then drove myself home afterwards. In those 8 weeks I lost more weight and gained more muscle than I ever thought possible. Beyond that, I became strong and confident in a single, and when I returned for my second year of university, I decided to trial for the GB Rowing Team. I trained with their development programme for just over a year, before switching to field hockey for my final year at university after having to move away from Manchester for a work placement.
When I graduated university, I moved almost straight to Scottsdale, AZ, a city that provided me neither rowing nor field hockey accessibly and so I took up golf. I played golf almost every day for a year, hitting balls during the week at the range, and playing on the weekends. I pursued it passionately until I changed jobs and moved to Philadelphia, where once again I was more or less cut off from the sport I was into. It was here that I took up photography, and my active time was limited to the Planet Fitness by my work, where I did weight training and body circuits to virtually no avail.
Throughout my entire life, despite all the sports I have picked up, trained for, and then let go, there was one sport I had never gotten into. Running. I HATE running. Like, you know when you have to go to the dentist for something and you are filled with dread at how long its going to take and how painful its going to be? That is how I feel about running. Despite all my endurance training throughout rowing, we had only ever mostly cross trained on bikes, which is perfectly fine by me, as I love cycling, and the odd run we went on was usually short and just to get us warmed up. I even hated those. And because of all this, I have always had the utmost respect for people who run. It doesnt matter whether they run long or short distances, fast or slow, for a race or just for fitness. I have always been so impressed that somebody would put themselves through it. I looked on for years at people who ran marathons and 10k’s, and applauded them from the safety of my living room, knowing that I would never know what it felt like to finish a running race (unless you count my junior school sports days when I was the only person who they could make to sign up for the 1500m and 800m and I would literally die and come last and swear I would never do it again).
This year, I have been really trying to focus on breaking through alot of the mental barriers I set myself, often writing myself off before I even give myself a chance, and through these exercises, I came head to head with the realisation that I literally know people at my work with ONE LEG, or even NO LEGS, that have completed marathons and 10k’s and Ultra races. And for the first time in my life, I realised that there is actually NOTHING stopping me being able to complete a running race, except for my own self doubt. I have always written myself off as ‘not a runner’ or professed that ‘running just isnt my thing’, but I finally decided with the upcoming new year that I’m done with the excuses. So I searched around, told everyone on Facebook I was going to run a half marathon (accountability is key, people) and I found the perfect race.
The Yosemite Half Marathon is the perfect mash up of my hate for running and my love for the outdoors (and YNP in particular) so it seemed fitting that my first race should be that one. I listened to friends and family tell me I was crazy for trying to run my first half marathon at altitude with a steep elevation change, but for the first time, I didn’t listen to any of them. I went ahead and booked, had some awesome friends agree to join me in the race, and I have officially started my training. I will keep you all updated about how it goes over the upcoming months, but I am confident that this time next year, I will be writing about how amazing 2019 was, completing my first ever half marathon, with my friends by my side, in the most beautiful place I can imagine doing it. May 11 is a while away, but I know the time will go quick, so if anyone has any tips for half marathons or just running in general, throw them my way! And if any of you are signed up for the YNP Half, shoot me an email or leave me a comment, I would love to hear from you!
Until then, may all of you find the thing you fear most, and may 2019 bring you the strength to tackle it head on. We are truly limited only by the excuses we make and the boundaries we unnecessarily impose on ourselves. I am so excited to hit this goal, I think I might even learn to like running in the process, but having said that, its still early days, and nothing is for certain! 😉
H x
The BackRoad Brit 