Summary

An individual recounts their experiences and misadventures in training for and walking half-marathons, often underestimating the challenge and impact on friendships.

Abstract

The narrative describes the author's journey from being a high school track athlete to facing the reality of physical limitations after a hip replacement. Despite these challenges, the author takes on the goal of walking half-marathons, often convincing friends to join in with varying degrees of success and strain on their relationships. The author's competitive nature and overconfidence in their cycling fitness lead to a focus on beating personal times and ensuring completion within the event's time limit, sometimes at the expense of their friends' comfort and enjoyment.

Opinions

The author initially underestimates the difficulty of walking a half-marathon, believing that cycling fitness directly translates to walking endurance.
There is a sense of camaraderie mixed with tension as the author persuades friends to participate in the half-marathons, with the friends expressing doubts about their ability to complete the distance.
The author admits to having a competitive nature, which drives them to push for faster completion times, sometimes to the detriment of their friends' experience.
The author's friends, Diana and Kimberly, seem to have a love-hate relationship with the walking events, enjoying the achievement but questioning their decision to participate.
The author reflects on the physical toll of the events, particularly the challenge of walking after long cycling sessions, indicating an awareness of the physical demands but also a determination to persevere.

How To Train To Walk A Half-Marathon

If you don’t mind risking injury and possibly damaging friendships.

“You want to walk a half-marathon? Don’t we have to train for that?” asked my friend Diana.

“We cycle 50 miles every Saturday! We can walk 13.1 miles, no problem,” I replied.

“Are you sure Danell? I have never walked that far,” added my friend Kimberly.

“I did it last year AND I did a training ride in the afternoon,” I bragged.

“Okay, if you say so,” said Diana.

Once an athlete, always an athlete, right?

I was a four-year varsity track and cross-country runner in high school. I wasn’t a standout, but I was good enough to make the team, which meant I was in shape year-round. I loved the camaraderie of being on a team. I didn’t particularly love the running part of it.

In college, I intended to run recreationally for exercise. But, as previously mentioned, I didn’t love to run. And, after years of running, it was harder to get back in shape after a break. I occasionally did other exercises, but I was never in shape like I was in high school.

After having two babies, I tried to take up running again but experienced severe back pain. Ultimately I discovered the back pain was actually hip pain, and I had a total hip replacement at 38. Running was no longer an option.

My first half-marathon.

After my hip replacement, my friend Erin asked me to sign up to walk the Two Cities half-marathon, our local signature running/walking event. The route is decent, and they have great swag! At the end of the course, you receive a medal, a dri-fit shirt, a sweatshirt, and an excellent breakfast!

Erin and I trained a bit, probably not as much as we should have, but I felt like we were in decent shape. We had fun, and I was proud that we were able to finish.

A new activity.

The following year I got a mountain bike for Mother’s Day and discovered a new activity. A few months later, I signed up with the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training program and added a road bike to my collection.

The event we were training for was a 100-mile bike ride in Solvang, CA. We spent approximately three months of training. Our training rides began around 20 miles and built up to 75 miles or so around two weeks before the event.

My second half-marathon

Our event was one week after the Two Cities event. So, I realized that since I was a century cyclist now, I should be able to walk 13.1 miles the weekend before. I recruited my friend Misty to walk with me. She was apprehensive, but I told her we could do it, and I would help her!

Misty began training, and I kept pedaling my road bike. I was in great shape, right? I forgot to tell Misty about my competitive nature. On the day of the event, I was determined to complete the walk faster than I had the year before. I think my goal was 3 1/2 hours. Misty’s goal was to finish.

As we started the event, I heard a rumor that the half-marathon course would close after 4 hours, and I became concerned that we would miss out on our swag. I decided that I would make sure we would finish in time. I would encourage Misty to walk faster.

“My feet are on fire,” Misty complained.

“Let’s use that fire to go faster!” I encouraged.

I could tell that Misty didn’t appreciate my encouragement, so I quietly tried to push our pace. She could tell I was getting fidgety.

Misty finally said, “Why don’t you just go? I can’t go any faster.”

I began walking faster and said, “Are you sure? I just want to beat my time from last year.”

Misty didn’t say anything else, so I’m sure she was quietly cheering me on. I walked even faster because I needed to pee! I found a port-a-potty a little bit later and was stepping out of it when Misty caught up.

“I figured I had time and hoped you would catch up,” I said to Misty.

At this point, she began referring to me as Monica Gellar. I always liked that character too! I tried to stay with her, but eventually, my competitive nature got the best of me, and I pulled away. Misty will never sign up to walk another event with me.

Third times a charm?

The next year I continued cycling and recruited my friends Diana and Kimberly to cycle with me. We were having fun, and I invited them to walk the half-marathon with me. They were also apprehensive.

“We cycle 50 miles every weekend. Of course, we can walk 13.1 miles!” I told them.

They trusted me because I had the experience. We kept cycling and occasionally went for walks. The day of the event arrived, and we eagerly started. I don’t remember many of the comments along the way, so I’m sure they were talking about how easy it was to walk 13.1 miles.

As we got close to the finish, I may have heard a few grumbles, but I know they were secretly happy that I encouraged them to do the walk. On the way to the car, they talked about how great they felt.

“How far away is the car?” asked Diana.

“Too far!” replied Kimberly.

“I’m not sure I can make it 10 more feet,” said Diana.

“Whose idea was this anyway?” said Kimberly.

“You’re welcome,” I said as I shuffled along with them and wondered if I would be able to lift my legs into the car.