"You don't have a chance."

When I was nine years old I asked my dad if I could go running with him. I asked him to go again, and again, and again. And there my friends, is where I became who I am.  At 12 years old I ran an 18:40 5K and at 14 placed 6th in the country at the Junior Olympics. Things were looking like I could really be good. I started my freshman year of high school off on fire. I was placing near the top of most of my cross country races and in track I had beat a state champion in the 2 mile and set a school record in the mile (which still stands. TOOT TOOT!). Sophomore year cross country I became the first girl in school history to qualify for the state meet. Things were still looking pretty good. Then track season came and went with nothing short of disappointment. Thinking back, I can't really tell you what happened or why, but something during that season changed me. I struggled the rest of my high school career. I never made another state meet nor did I run any faster than I did my freshman year.

I was frustrated, felt defeated and unhappy. Not many people know this, but I debated unlacing my running shoes and never putting them on again - more than once. However, every time my brain battled my heart I would break down in tears. I took this as a sign that I just wasn't ready to call it quits. So I didn't. I plodded through the rest of my very inconsistent seasons having a few great races and the rest I would call mediocre. It's not like I was running awful times, I just wasn't running any faster. I wish I could put some of the blame on the fact that I was a team of one and battled a bad case of anemia one year, but it's not the case.

My college career started out pretty much the same way as it did in high school. I had a stellar freshman cross country season followed by a pretty decent track season where I had a big PR in the 5K and I qualified and ran in our conference championships. Sophomore track season is really where things went wrong; way wrong. Every season we would sit down with our coach in a "goal meeting." I walked into my meeting with Coach, goals in hand and ready to go. I walked out of there in tears and never having felt so worthless. When I told him my goals he sat back in his chair, crossed his arms and - I kid you not - said

"You don't have a chance."

Having struggled through high school and trying to rebuild my confidence, those five words had done me in. Over the next few years I again found myself debating whether or not I wanted to continue running; again sobbing my eyes out every time I thought about it. Thankfully (my team mates all know how big of a THANKFULLY that is!) my coach left before the start of my junior year and we were blessed to have a new - and VERY much improved - coach. Things did get better for me but again my seasons were very inconsistent. I qualified both junior and senior year for track conference champs but other things kept me from being able to compete in them. I finished out my eligibility feeling like I had really done nothing worth speaking of. 

It's hard to look back and see how good I was when I was young and the hopes and dreams I had, to having it play out the way it did. However, I have three things to blame for this: ME, MYSELF and I. During high school and college I didn't want to admit it, but I ran weak and I ran scared.  I have to be honest with myself and own up to the fact that I could have achieved all those dreams but I got in my own way. I gave into the pain and just wasn't ready to go through the hurt that it takes to win. It was easier to say I had a bad day than to deal with the fact that I just got beat. 

Even as I type this, I am pissing myself off. Why did I do that?! I didn't run up to my potential and I watched everyone around me do so. Instead of knowing how good I could have been, I have to ask "What if?"  Well, that damn question is a question that I will ask myself no longer. I am done wondering how good I can be and I am done being afraid to hurt. I am out to find out how good I WILL be and how bad I can make it hurt. I used to see paces for my workouts and say "HA, ya right!" and now I see them and think "Bring it on." It took a lot to get myself to this point. I had to do a lot of letting go and give myself a HUGE reality check. I put so much pressure on myself to be good that I psyched myself out. I finally had to say "Erin, WHO CARES!? Now, obviously I care - a whole hell of a lot. But, if I have a bad day it doesn't affect anybody but me! Nobody is going to judge me if I don't win and they aren't going to judge me if I don't PR. Running is purely for ME and while I am serious about it, I also need to relax a bit. Since accepting this, I have lifted that excess pressure and have pushed harder, run faster and finished stronger. The thought of quitting has not crossed my mind since crossing the line at CIM in 2009. I absolutely love running - not that I never did -  and I can't even describe to you the passion I have for it. 

Every time I compete I am competing to win. Every time I lace up my shoes I am competing with myself.

I am excited to really hit the training hard for my fall marathon. Coach Dad will be putting me through some new training styles, kicking up my mileage and pushing me harder than ever. I am building a solid base over summer and working on developing my speed. (GOD DAMN I forgot how bad 5Ks hurt!) I have also started working with two strength coaches. So far they have torn my form apart, embarrassed me about how weak I am (unintentionally....I think! ;) ) and made my so sore it hurts to wash my hair. Call me psycho but I love every second of it. They are an "Oh, it hurts? Here's five more pounds" type of gym that will push you to better both mentally and physically. I am already feeling stronger on my runs - I will let you know about my arms later haha - and look forward to having my ass handed to me ever week. OT 2016!

You can check them out at The Ranch Athletics. <---- Click Here

RACE RECAP: Avenue of the Vines

Well, like I had mentioned in an earlier post, races don't always go as planned. Today....was one of those days. (insert words your mom would wash your mouth out with soap for saying.)

I have been working my ass off the past seven weeks to run a sub-80 (under 1:20:00 for my non-runner folk) for a half marathon. Workouts were going well - really well - and I was feeling really good about racing. I had a nice taper this week and after my shake out run yesterday my legs were feeling really good. 

Aside from the start being pushed back to 7:30 - at 6:55 meaning my warm up was already done- and then pushed back forward only to stand for 10 more minutes at the line, the day was looking great. So I thought. The gun goes off, we make the first turn and BOOM....head wind. SERIOUSLY!? Where was this all morning!? The course layout was essentially one giant box. The first 4 miles being run on the same long, straight road. (Want proof? Look here http://www.usatf.org/routes/view.asp?rID=115526 ) Four miles of a head wind? Not ideal. Head wind aside, the first mile was ridiculously slow from my own doing. I was trying to gauge my pace off the group of teenage guys who I assumed would be going balls to the wall from the start. They didn't go out hard and the pace felt somewhat "easy." After half a mile I had a suspicion that I was definitely going to be slow the first mile - better than too fast! I moved up to the back of that group and when we went through the mile I had two choices: Stay at this with the pack, draft, definitely miss my goal time OR battle the wind head on and hope for the best. So I decided to hope for the best. I moved around them - as they said " Man, we are going to get beat my a girl!" haha - and picked up the pace. 

Now, from having done this racing thing multiple times in my life, I knew that trying to PR pace while fighting the wind would only come back to haunt me the last few miles of the race. So I dropped the pace to where I felt like I was working "comfortably hard" without over working. Knowing that the course was a box, I knew that I was going to get a nice tailwind the second half and so I decided that was going to be when I would start to put the hammer down. By mile five I was out of the wind enough to finally get on goal pace. I could tell the wind had done some damage on my legs, but I still felt like I would be able to hold strong until the end. Mile seven is where the race turned ugly. I took my GU - like I do EVERY time I race a half or longer - and my stomach decided it did NOT care for GU today. Now, I am not talking about the normal "side-stitch" stomach cramping. I am talking about the normal side-stitch + nausea +  I might shit. F*CK. I was really hurting. I tried my best to maintain my pace but the harder I pushed, my intestines pushed back a little harder. By mile 10 I knew I had fallen off enough to miss my time. The last 3 miles turned into a suffer fest of trying not to lose it from either end and battling the wind.  Not to mention that I had run completely alone, aside from one of the cyclists, since mile two. Makes you jealous that you aren't  me, right? 

Well if you don't envy me yet, you will now.  I was able to hang on long enough to place 3rd overall and 1st female. You may be saying to yourself  "big deal, you won." Well the winner, both male and female, win their weight in wine! BOOM. Jealous now!? However, as a very vino friend of mine pointed out (thanks, Shannon Elsemore!) I am not a big drinker. Aside from a bottle or two, the wine will be going to a wedding (sorry Shannon!) of two awesome runner friends of mine; you may know them: Michelle La Sala, CIM Race Director (no big deal & yes I totally just name dropped) and Kevin Pool, pretty much a marathon badass (PR 2:18:59).

To sum up: I didn't run a PR but got a win and a crap load of wine. Aren't you glad you read all that when you could have just read that last sentence? Love you, too. ;) 

All the spectators on the course...sans the cows.

Age Group Award

Haha Ya, right!

Saying you won your weight in wine sounds a lot better than it looks! ;)