Tag: half-marathon

My Daughter’s First 10k: A Rainy Race Adventure

My Daughter’s First 10k: A Rainy Race Adventure

by Aimee Settlemires ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Every year my hometown hosts a very popular 10k. In 2022 this race marked my return to the running community so it holds a special place in my heart. Unfortunately, I have not been able to run it in the past two years. I was beyond excited that I would be participating this year, and, as an added bonus, my daughter L had agreed to join me.

My 14 year old daughter is not a runner. I have tried to get her into running for a while, hoping that I would craft the perfect little running buddy. She has shown some interest by joining in running club last year. (She hated it.) She even checked out the cross country team. (5 a.m. practices? No, thank you.)

I was pleasantly surprised when she asked to run the 10k with me. I gave her plenty of chances to chicken out. Once I submitted her race fee, I told her she was committed. I told her immediately to start doing some walk-run-interval training.

Fast-forward 3 months from signing up to race week. She has walked maybe three times on the treadmill. I know she isn’t ready, but I figured we could probably still make good time with walk-run intervals. I had made peace with the fact that this wasn’t going to be an actual race for me. No PR’s would be broken. My only focus was making sure L had a good time.

Two days before the race L informs me that two of her friends will also be running it. Did this hurt my mom heart a little bit? Yeah, maybe. I was thinking this would be 6.2 miles of her and me having a great time jamming to Taylor Swift. I also knew that she is fourteen and her friends are her whole world. We would just have a big girl-running group. I was down for it.

Race morning we woke up and sipped some coffee together. It was perfect. We drove into town and picked up each friend from their home. We signed in at the race pavilion and stood around stretching. Looking at the cloudy sky, I was hoping the rain would hold off until after the race. I soon realized that I was a fourth wheel of the group. The girls were huddled together. They laughed over hushed whispers. Meanwhile, I spoke to adults that I have come to recognize from past races. I texted my husband and shared my disappointment with the morning. He said let them be girls and you race on ahead. I didn’t want that though. I was determined to stay as a group and bond with L.

We lined up and were off. We rounded the first corner and the girls were already walking. They were laughing and holding hands. I slowed down and walked. It was awkward though. I was in front or behind them. Off to the side. They were in their own world, and I clearly wasn’t in it with them. They weren’t excluding me on purpose; they were just having a great time being together. It was then that I decided to take my husband’s advice and race on ahead. I told them to stay together and that I would see them at the end.

I felt great. I held a 10:35-11:00 pace comfortably. My legs felt great, and I wasn’t gasping for air. I probably could have pushed myself more because my pace felt so easy. My head, though, was with L. I was hoping she was having fun and that she was not too far behind me.

As I hit mile 5 the sky started to darken. A few drops of rain started to fall. I picked up the pace and finished strong with an end time of 1:08:33. Not a 10k PR, but a PR for the course. Last time I ran this race I finished in 1:16.38. And that took everything I had. This time I definitely knew I could have pushed myself more.

Right as I crossed the finish line the bottom fell out and rain came pouring down. I got under a tent and checked to see where L was. I was surprised to see she was back at mile 3, nowhere near the end. It was raining and thundering. I called my husband. He immediately wanted me to go pick her up in the car. I wanted her to finish. I wasn’t about to wait at the finish line for her though. I started to walk back through the course and through the rain until I found her.

As I walked back, passing runners of all sorts still in it to finish it, the rain was not stopping. This wasn’t a gentle downpour. This was a full on thunderstorm, complete with thunder and lightning. My clothes were soaked. I started getting stressed. I was thinking maybe I should have got the car, but, now, to turn around and get back to the car would just waste time. I kept walking with a fast pace, silently cursing myself for leaving her, for having her do this, when I knew she really wasn’t ready for the distance. I passed small kids, elderly grandparents, fire fighters in full gear. No girls.

I walked almost a mile and a half back. I finally found the three girls. One guy followed them. A police car lights flashing was bringing up the end of the race. The girls were laughing, skipping, practically dancing in the rain, enjoying what I could only describe as pure girlhood.

I pushed them that last mile. I made them power walk, coaching them like a drill sergeant. We rounded that last corner and saw the finish line. L and one of her friends ran ahead. I walked with the third girl. “They call out your name when you cross?” She asked. “Oh yeah, this is a big deal. You just finished 6.2 miles. And in the rain!” She smiled. “I can’t believe I did it.”

I took their picture. Three rain soaked girls with medals around their necks and smiles on their faces. I couldn’t be more proud of L. The day wasn’t what I thought it would be. Maybe in some ways it was better. Could have done without the rain though.

L has declared this will be her last 10k as she is retiring from running. (I haven’t given up yet. I will always quietly hope she falls in love with running like I did.)

Next week I start my training for the Chicago marathon! Stay tuned for updates on how training for my 2nd full marathon goes!

Rediscovering the Joy of Running After Motherhood

Rediscovering the Joy of Running After Motherhood

by Aimee Settlemires ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

This last weekend I was able to run in a way I haven’t be able to run in a long time. For the first time since having my son, I ran a whole 5 miles. I won’t say I was forgetting what running meant to me. However, I did find it easier to make excuses to skip runs. Then I finally pushed myself to get out there and run. While I was on a half a mile walking trail next to my work, I suddenly remembered how much I love this sport.

I have four children. With each child life as a mom looked a little different for me and priorities shifted. This last baby was no different. My whole focus is now a demanding little chunky baby with the bluest eyes and the chubbiest thighs. I understand that this is completely normal. After having a baby, jumping back into getting fit is the last thing anyone wants to do. From 2022 to 2023 I did more running then I have ever done. After training and successfully running my first full marathon I was drained. The pregnancy and the birth of my son was a welcomed break to do absolutely nothing.

After I had my six week check up and got clearance from doctor. I was ready to get back to running, though it felt differently now. I knew I couldn’t just go out and run ten miles like it was nothing. I hadn’t run in over almost year. I felt so defeated all my hard work was just gone. I was starting all over. I was back at square one, and it was overwhelming. Doubt and negativity crept into my brain. I began to tell myself, “Maybe you just had that one good year of running. Perhaps that was it.” I ran a full marathon. I proved to myself that I could do it after feeling like that was something I could never do. I can cross it off my bucket list and move on, though the thoughts of returning to running stayed with me.

I started back with cycling on my Peloton, yoga sessions, and light strength exercises even though things were hard, which just put more fear into me about lacing up my beloved running sneakers. No one was pushing me except me to get back to running. The thought of starting over was horrible. My mind kept returning to “I will just have to start.” I was not going to allow myself to give up running. It may look different after pregnancy, but it wasn’t something I could give up. My first run was a mile that my husband joined me for. Toddler, infant, and puppy all in tow we started down our new drive for our walk/run. A week after giving birth we moved into the house we had been working on for eight plus years. New baby plus moving? It was a hectic, but a blissful, time.

So, I traded out paved city streets for red dirty country roads. The first mile on a different terrain felt tough. The roads had a lot more hills and rocks. It feels more like trail running out here. It was a fun time because my little three year old was running besides me. My three year old was keeping pace with me. That was where I was starting at with running. Granted, he is a pretty fast three year old with actually good form. Possibly a future running partner.

Over the next couple of weeks I went on a handful of runs. A mile or two here and there. Each left me with a feeling of accomplishment of getting out the door. However, I also felt sadness that I was struggling with such a short distances. The entire time I am running I am thinking this is so hard. I am counting the minutes until it was over. I wasn’t enjoying myself.

Then there was the whole getting back to a consistent running schedule and finding the time to run. Before, I would wake up early and run before anyone gets up. Now, I live out in a heavily wooded area with no street lights, no houses gently lighting my path. Just pure darkness. I am thankful for the distance from town. I appreciate the quietness of country life. However, the darkness out here is just different. I have lights but it is still terrifying to run out on these pitch black back roads. If I ran in the afternoons I would take my toddler in the jogging stroller. Now, I have an infant plus the toddler hates the jogging stroller. Afternoons are a no go. Evenings I want to spend time with my family. By the time they are home its again pitch black. Time is a currency that I currently broke in.

I have no time, no consistency, and felt difficulty on runs. It was starting to feel like running is no longer for me. I started questioning my decision. What did I get myself into signing up for a marathon? Before I really started giving running a chance again. Before my body felt like mine again.

I had worked all night. During the hours leading up to 6:30 am, I went back and forth about running after work. I was so tired from working all night. I texted my husband with complaints of feeling sleepy. I missed him and didn’t want to be away from him. He only simply replied “You need to run.” This was not the text I wanted him to give me. I was looking for an out. Give me a reason any reason, just to come home. He knows that after I slept I would be beating myself for not going. I changed out of my work clothes into my running clothes, and nibbled on my graham crackers. Then I finally said all the thoughts I have been having out loud to my co worker. I wondered if it would be okay if I just quit? Would I like myself if I gave up running? Would it be okay if I didn’t run another race or marathon? I asked myself these questions. I didn’t have an answer.

The walking trail near work is just a half mile, but it’s close to work and populated. As a woman, if you know you know. This is what I have to do when I am on shift. If I drove the hour commute home to run, I would just go straight to bed. Despite all the negative feelings. The overwhelming urge to just sleep. I stepped on to that running path that morning with the goal of running 54 minutes. Can I do this? Could I still be a runner?

The first lap does not feel good. I am out of breath and my hips hurt. “In through the mouth out through the nose,” I repeat to myself over and over again. No way I can keep this up for 50 minutes. It’s half a mile, and I am dying. Somewhere between 2.50 and 3 miles I start to find that comfort that feels familiar. By mile 4 I am smiling and it doesn’t even feel like I am running. I am mouthing along to the music lyrics in my ears. I smile at the walkers I pass by, and enjoy watching the sun climb up in the sky. My watch alerts me 54:00 minutes run over, but I am at 4.76 miles and I can’t stop so close to 5 miles. I sprint the last bit and finish right at 5 miles. My average pace for the run was 12.21/mile. When I finished, I was struggling to catch my breath, my heart pound. I grabbed a sidewalk railing to stretch and laid my forehead down on the cool metal. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes and I could feel the smile on my face. This was the feeling I chasing. I can still run. Running still brings me happiness.

I am still a runner. I will always be a runner.

my favorite running partner and me.

Cash joins me on my short runs of 30 minutes or less. He is still a young puppy, only 5 months. Even so, he runs right beside me. He keeps me company on the days that feel extra hard.

Running for Hope: Breast Cancer Awareness Race Experience

Running for Hope: Breast Cancer Awareness Race Experience

by Aimee Settlemires ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I hate running 5k’s. I loath the distance. It’s too short to fall into a good running groove. I basically feel like I am sprinting the entire time. By the time I do feel warmed, and I can start holding my paces the race is over. Go figure. Every time I sign up for a 5k I forget I dislike running them. Then I reach the starting line and remember I hate them. I only love them when they are over. I would rather run a 10k or even a half marathon. I love the feeling running a race gives me. The surge of achievement as I across the finish line. In between large races I like to do smaller races because it helps me keep focus on the larger goal. The 5k is the most common, frequent race available to the average runner like myself. So, I continue to sign up for ones in my area whenever possible.

I have not ran a race since the local Rooster Run 5k in June 2023. It was unbearable. At the height of summer in Mississippi. In heat you can’t breathe in and your clothes immediately stick to your skin when you step outside. Basically, it was like I begging to have a heat stroke to run this race. As you could have of guess I didn’t do very well and was happy to have finished. Next race on the schedule St. Jude half marathon in Memphis. In September 2023 in the middle of training, I found out I was pregnant.

We had just started trying for our 4th child. We were beyond excited with the news that we had conceived so quickly. I continued to run during the early months of my pregnancy. I fully expected to manage to run the half come December. However, I developed a severe hip/pelvic pain known as Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction. It felt like my pelvis would fall apart with the slightest of movement. It was a struggle to even turn over in bed. I didn’t want to stop running, but I decided at that point to listen to my body. I dropped from the half marathon, and focused on my pregnancy. It was a hard decision for me to make at the time. Running had brought me so much joy, and I was finally good at it! I promised myself I would not lose my fitness. I would cycle and continue to strength train. (I was seriously delusional.) Between morning sickness, trying to build a house, work, and taking care of three kids already, I was exhausted all the time. I allowed myself to put staying strong on the back burner, and let myself truly enjoy my last pregnancy.

Here I am almost a year later with a beautiful four-month-old, blue-eyed baby boy. I am wondering when my first race will be. I can sign up for a 10k in May that is held every year (Several months away.) This will give me time to regain my strength and my endurance. (Most likely what I should have done.) Instead I signed up for Hope Continues 5k to support breast cancer awareness that was scheduled two weeks away. Perfect. The night shift Aimee who signs up for these races is different. She is not the same Aimee who has to run them on race day. I knew when I signed up for this race, I would be working the night before it. I also knew I would be working again the night of the race, though I have done this many times before and knew it was manageable. Not smart in any sort of the sense, but manageable.

The morning of the race I was exhausted from work. I had worked all night, the day before I didn’t sleep well due to the fact my son is still frequenting breastfeeding. He does not go to daycare and is with me on the days I work. During my work week consistent sleep is not a thing. This set up works for our family, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s just a challenge that I work with, and have come to know. I arrive to the race. I watch the tents get set up. The racers in their pink gear gathering in the park near the starting line. You can tell who takes their running hobby seriously by the type of shoes and gear worn. Who is doing warm up exercises, several of them taking laps around the block. Runners don’t come to play even in a local charity 5k. My head is begging me to lay back and close my eyes, but I knew that would be a mistake. So, I sit in silencing and eat my pre-run graham cracker. Helpful tidbit; don’t run fasted. You will struggle, feel heavy, and sluggish. Give yourself some energy-EAT something! I am a firm believer you should never run on an empty stomach.

The race begins and we are off. I start out strong with a 9:50 pace. I hadn’t made it to the first mile when I found myself repeating “I can do hard things.” and “Just don’t stop moving.” I knew running these 3.1 miles this morning wasn’t going to be easy, because I hadn’t consistency run in over a year. This was my first race back. Did I really think that I would PR? With my delusional brain, maybe. I joked with my husband and coworkers about winning in my age group. Secretly thinking “It’s a local race. Small. It’s possible.” Running that first mile quickly humbled me. My expectations of this race, and my goals quickly shifted. Runners of all types began to pass me as I struggled to hold my 10:45 pace. I didn’t quit though I just kept looking ahead and putting one foot in front of the other.

At the last curve a young girl sprints of head of me, joy on her face as she turns around smiles back at her mother. I remember in this moment that running is such a joy. Anyone who is a runner will tell you that. Others may find us strange, but the ones who get it, get it. It’s so much more than a just a hobby. I push myself to pick up my knees to finish strong. I see the finish time clock 33:00. I will finish in this minute.

Overall, the energy of the race was unmatched. Breast cancer survivors lined the streets, ran or walked alongside of me. Mothers, daughters, sisters ran in support of the women affected by breast cancer. Lost loved ones were remembered. Survivors were celebrated. It was an amazing race to run. I stepped back into the running world to find myself again as a runner.

Everyday women are being diagnosis with breast cancer and starting their fight. Early prevention and detection is key to survival. To learn more about breast cancer or if you want to donate to support breast cancer research visit: https://www.komen.org/

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To donate to support me running the Chicago Marathon for St. Jude. Click the link below!

http://fundraising.stjude.org/goto/Aimee_Runs