My awesome friend Mariah asked me to share my race/exercise story. Check out her blog, it is amazing and motivating. I put the story here too for journaling purposes, with a few extra pics.


I never liked running. I could never figure out what the hype was. What was so great about shooting pain, breathlessness, nausea, and red faced sweatiness? My dislike ran so deep, I never stuck with it for more than once or twice a month on a whatever my motivation kick was for that month. I would run once, not even a mile and remember why I didn’t like running.

I also was not the biggest fan of goal setting. My entire adolescent journal was filled with entries usually around January of what my lofty goals were for the upcoming year. I even went as far as to outline the steps of how I would reach my goals. The very next entry was dated months later and simply stated:

I did not reach my goals.

This has always unfortunately been a pattern in my life. When things got too hard, I quit. Even better, I always seemed to choose the easier way in the first place. Life was simpler this way, I was happier, not having to live with the constant disappointment of being a failure.

My third biggest problem was that I was an emotional eater.  If my kids were driving me crazy, to the drive through we headed. If my husband worked late and I felt lonely, I pulled treats out of the cupboard to keep me company instead. If I started feeling sorry for myself (a slew of reasons- overweight, infertility, not good enough at ________...) I fed that pity with calories. The one I felt best about; (but was probably the worst) after working hard at something, I felt I deserved to eat.

Its easy to see that this combination was not the best for me or my family. I was unhappy with myself most of the time, which spread over to making my family unhappy also.

Then one day my husband and I joined a gym. It was a perk of a new firm he was working for. I was honestly more excited about the new shoes and gym pants I bought to go to the gym in. I had been before years ago and felt some success after going to a few cardio classes. We decided to pay for a trainer to teach me the ropes. The only thing I knew how to do was run on the treadmill, and I hated that.

Actually paying for the trainer motivated me to get my booty out of bed and to the gym for each session. In order for this to work with my two little ones at home and my husband who had crazy hours at work, I woke up every morning at 4:50am, in order to meet my trainer at 5:30am. If I didn’t show up, I lost the session, and they were not cheap sessions.  At first I felt funny. I knew everyone was watching me, chuckling to themselves about the crazy girl in the corner trying to lift the 10lbs over her head. I was so embarrassed about the weird faces my muscles would contort my face into as my body struggled to push itself. Why are there so many mirrors at gyms?

Then I realized, no one was watching me. No one else cared what I was doing, they were focused on their own reps.

I began to gain confidence as I learned my way around the machines and how to use them to my benefit. My husband noticed I stood up straighter at home. My trainer noticed I could hold a plank for a full 90 seconds longer than my start time.  I felt so different. I loved how easy it was for me to jump out of bed when my kids called me. I loved the strength I felt in my body as I did yard work. I loved shopping at the grocery store and knowing I would be eating all the broccoli before it went mushy.

I knew the time with my trainer was coming to a close and I was really nervous I wouldn’t keep it up on my own. Even though I was riding on the motivation of the changes my body was making, I was afraid that wouldn’t keep getting me out of bed.

So I signed up (and paid the registration for) a half marathon.

I knew that if I paid for something, I would be committed. Just like with the trainer. I really had no idea what to do, or what I was getting into, but I started to do a little research and found out there is an entire running community out there.

I decided to loosely follow Hal Higdon’s training program with a few tweaks to make it fit my lifestyle. My family came first and I didn’t want them getting kicked to the curb so I could get my run in.  I ran three days a week at my race pace (a faster pace, trying to improve my time) for 2-4 miles. I cross trained at the gym 1-2 days (this was anything from elliptical, erging, weights, cardio or strength classes.) I did a long run Saturday mornings that I slowly added a mile to each week- here my focus was to just get the miles in, not necessarily do it fast, just do it.  I loved these runs. I could hardly fall asleep the night before because my adrenaline was already pumping. I can’t believe I’m going to run 10 miles tomorrow! I would think as I tried to fall asleep. I was usually up before my alarm, sneaking stealthily around the house to get ready with out waking the crew. I owe a huge thank you to my husband who spent every Saturday morning wrestling our kids by himself until I came up the driveway. (And after as I lay in a heap trying to breathe again.) He has been so supportive to me through this whole thing.

Sunday was my rest day.

After 3 months of mostly sticking with my training (my kids, and then I got walking pneumonia, so it was put on hold for a few weeks.) my race was just around the corner. My brother decided he would run the race with me. I met him literally 2 minutes before the start gun of the race. I can’t believe we found each other in the mass of 5,000+ runners.

We were off.

It was going so great, we had a good pace, I could feel my groove. About mile 6 my chattiness had faded away. About mile 8, I could feel my body wanting to slow down. I told my brother to go on ahead, but he said, “Megan, I signed up to do this with you. I’m not leaving you. We are going to get through this together.”

I all of a sudden felt stronger.

By mile 10 I started to get nervous. I had never gone farther than 10 miles. What would my body do? It already felt like collapsing. I knew the last mile and a half was uphill. I saw a little boy holding a sign that said “My mommy is faster than you.”

I all of a sudden felt stronger. I was a mommy, I could be fast.

As we rounded the corner to the hill, I could feel my heart sink. I could feel the easy-way-out-Megan start to poke through. Just walk. Your body is so done. You don’t do hard things. I really tried to not start crying.

Then my brother, “Ok- here we go, we are going to take it easy, save some in our tank for the end. We’ve got this.”

I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I kept running.

The last few yards before the top of the hill the only things running through my mind were- Don’t cry. Don’t throw up. Left foot. Right foot.  Repeat.

But then we were there.

The last hundred yards were level. I looked at my brother- his huge grin was waiting for me with a high five.  “We did it!” he cheered.

We sprinted through to the finish.

Each gulp of air I took was also a choked sob. I finally felt like I had broken through the easy-way-out-full-of-excuses-Megan I had gotten so comfortable with.  We did it. I did it. I, Megan Tanner, trained for and finished a half marathon.

And I ran the whole way.

This is the happier, stronger, faster me.

Contemplating what I am about to do... 

 The line for the bathrooms. Serious.

Props to my dad and his awesome photography skills. So grateful to him for all these great shots to remember this day by. 

Starting line up, it curved around and down the street.

Finding my brother about 60 seconds before the start to put our bibs on.

We were off!

Such a stud.

My cheerleaders! With their awesome signs! 

It was so motivating to see them! What can I say, I like running when people are cheering for me :)

More cheering at the finish line.

It had been a few minutes by the time I got my first hug- the crowds were crazy. Good thing though, I would have probably broken down if he hugged me right after.

The Swenson's came and cheered us on! (At the perfect time, I was dying at mile 10 and their cheers helped me go a little faster!)

With our medals :)

My favorite fans.

Emma eating my post race banana and my yogurt pop.

Ryan drinking my chocolate milk.

I was happy to share all the free goodies with my kids who had waited patiently 2 hours for me to finish, and were about out of patience. But then spent an hour in the bathroom feeling soooo sick... I guess they give you the snacks for a good reason. Next time I will pack the kids their own snacks. 

chip time 2:06:17 778/2132 women 158 in my division... wanted a record for next time.

Max- Thank you so much for getting me through the hardest thing I've ever done. You helped me realize I'm stronger than I think I am.

Scott- I can't tell you how much your support has meant to me through all of this. I could not have done it with out you. I can't believe I get to have you forever. I love you.