Skip to main content

Dam to Dam

If you live in Central Iowa you are familiar with the ‘Iowa Distance Classic’ Dam to Dam 20K road race. If you’re not from around here – let’s just say it’s a big race with somewhat of a cult following here in the Des Moines metro. The race starts up on the Saylorville dam and makes its way through the IA countryside, eventually winding up downtown Des Moines.
In my early years of learning to run, I had grand ideas of someday running it. In 2010 I ran the 5K and hoped that the next year I’d be back to run the full 20K. For one reason or another each year I found myself unable to train for or run the big race…until 2014. Coincidentally, this year was the first time in the race’s 35 year history that it was expanded to be a full half marathon…I saw it as a sign – this would finally be my year.
It had been a few years since my last half marathon and I was excited to start training for another long distance run. However training in late winter/early spring was MUCH different than training throughout the summer months. I found myself on the dreaded basement treadmill for more miles than I had hoped. I also found myself struggling to get in all the short runs I would normally commit to when training for a long distance run. I ran a couple 10K races during the training which went well, and overall I figured I’d get it done one way or another.
And so, last Saturday I found myself riding on a school bus, in the darkness of 5:00 AM, next to my friend Blake. As we made our way up to the dam, I felt excited, and yet calm. I knew I could do it and I wasn’t so concerned with a personal best. It was HUMID and warm and I could tell it would be a tough race.


 











We stood on the dam, thousands of runners deep. I looked around me at the variety of the shapes and sizes in my running pace and I felt…at home. I looked at 801 Grand, the tall building I work in every day, barely visible in the haze and pondered the length my little feet were about to take me.  13.1 miles. Making my way through the course, I saw smiling faces and cheers from strangers and friends alike. Waiting for me at the end – my loving husband and family. I was slower than I had hoped to be…but somewhere along the race one of the ladies running near me yelled to her running mates ‘we are strong women!’  I smiled thinking…I may just be one myself. So, I completed my third half marathon, despite all that I’ve been through, physically and emotionally, since my last one. It wasn’t easy – it wasn’t fast – but I did it!




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Carrie Anne - The Beginning of the Story

So, I’ve been trying to sort out how to start this story. It’s been difficult to articulate. Difficult to pick which details to share, and which to hold close. But it’s a story too good, too beautiful, not to share – so here goes! When Matt and I first became parents, we thought our family was complete. We envisioned raising Ethan surrounded by loving friends and family – just the two of us. Given all that we had gone through to finally become parents, we felt content with just the one child. The most adorable boy in the whole wide world. Our Ethan was the apple of our eyes – the most amazing gift. We marveled at all of his accomplishments, soaked up all his love and personality, and celebrated the joy of parenthood at every exhausting, wonderful turn. Along the way, we’ve built a strong and loving relationship with Ethan’s birthmother. We visit yearly, and stay in close contact with pictures, emails, and texts. I have attempted to describe my feelings for her many times over the

A Glimpse Into Open Adoption

If you had been a customer of the Longhorn Steakhouse on Highway 19 in Palm Harbor, FL last Sunday night, you may have seen two couples walking through the restaurant, oogling a sweet baby boy on the way to their table. You may have commented on how cute he was. You may have thought he looked a lot like the woman carrying him. You may have wondered about the man in the wheelchair. But you likely would not have assumed you’d be witnessing this baby’s biological parents sit down to dine with his adoptive parents. It’s a scene I’ve been playing over and over in my mind as I recount the wonderful experiences of our trip to Florida. The magnitude of that moment, that evening, will never be lost on me. It was incredible to be a part of – and I’m so very grateful we had it. We had met up with Ethan’s birthmother, L, earlier in the day. She hadn’t seen him since he was a few hours old and was anxiously waiting for us outside a local mall. As soon as we saw each other the tears welled up in o

Carrie - The Wait and the Big Arrival!

We arrived in Florida midday Saturday and made our way to the hospital where we met up with Ethan’s birthmother and her mother. We spent a long afternoon in the waiting room while the doctors and nurses put L through a myriad of tests. Finally, they verified the need to induce labor and proceeded to admit her to the hospital with plans to start the induction process Sunday. Exhausted, we left to check in at the hotel and ate what we thought may be our last supper before the baby came…but…. Sunday we arrived at the hospital mid-morning to see how things were progressing. The nurses gave L a medication to help start the dilation process around 12:30 PM…and told us it would likely take 12 hours for things to progress. We stepped out to enjoy the Florida sunshine for lunch for a bit, then settled in for the long haul at the hospital. We spent all afternoon, evening, and night together – holding watch over L as she slept. As we sat there, listening to the baby’s heart beating on the mon