The morning of the race we woke up at 4am to be shuttled to the start by 5:30. It was a 45 minute bus drive to the top of a mountain. On the way up I kept saying to Halee "look...we are going to be running downhill the whole time." For me, downhill equals being able to breathe more freely. Less effort. Boy was I wrong. The first 7 miles of this race was delightful. Just as I predicted. It felt effortless compared to hilly runs I'd done in the past. But by mile 8 that all changed. Our legs started to send our brains messages of fatigue. We didn't train to run downhill. Not THAT downhill at least. We started at 6000 ft elevation on this race and trained at 500 ft elevation. Being able to breathe wasn't as effortless as I had dreamt it would be.
By mile 10 I could not even imagine going 3 more miles. My legs were hurting really bad. When we'd stop for water stops my legs would wobble and feel like giving out. And because of the elevation my lungs hurt from compensating large amounts of air. But I knew I had to finish. Halee was a rock for me. She kept us going. I expected to be the one cheering us to the finish since this was her first half. I was supposed to be the alpha here, but she by far ended up being the strength for both of us.
We made it to the end, hand in hand. I will forever be grateful to have experienced this with my strong daughter.
