Forget the Glass Slippers, this Princess wears running shoes.

October 28^th was one of the proudest days of my life. It’s hard to put into words how it felt crossing that finish line. I went from being the girl in elementary school who couldn’t even run a mile { at St. Paul 8 laps around the track was a mile, I’d always lie at about lap 5 and say I’d done 8} to a woman who just completed her first marathon. 

The road to 26.2 was not an easy one. I remember running Burke Lake in college, which is just shy of 5 miles, thinking to myself maybe I could run a half marathon. Just about 3 years ago I ran my first half marathon, and I was hooked. My dad’s first marathon was Marine Corps, and I knew that if I ever did a Marathon I wanted that to be my first as well. 

Expo Swag

They say “it takes a village to raise a child”, well it certainly took a village comprised of family and friends “to raise” this marathoner.  Don’t get me wrong I ran for myself, but knowing that so many people supported me, and believed in me kept me going when I wanted to quit. My family couldn’t be there on race day, but I know they were with me every step of the way. Taped in hot pink on the inside of my shirt were notes from family and friends encouraging me, and wishing me well. I also did mile dedications from 20-26 thinking about those special people each mile.

Race weekend made me feel as special as I do on my birthday. It was full of desk decorations, flowers, facebook posts, text messages, phone calls, and my favorite, lots of hugs. 

Desk Decorations

Since this was my first time I wanted to take full advantage of everything race weekend had to offer. Friday night Danny and I went to first timers pep rally. I wasn't sure what to expect but was looking forward to being around first time marathoners! With Hurricane Sandy looming there was lots of talk about how to run in the rain, what to wear for rain, etc. Rain on race day was my worst nightmare: wet feet and soaking clothes were not part of my training. If it rained on a day I was supposed to run, I would hit the treadmill. But, I was determined rain or shine I would finish. So, “Hurricane Sandy, had nothing on Hurricane Hadley.” Thankfully, Sandy was kind to us runners, and only gave us some strong winds and overcast skies.

My alarm went off at 5:17 am race morning, and as I got out of bed, and my feet hit the ground I thought to myself, this is it Hadley. Today is the day, it’s the day you’ve been training for. I laced up my bright pink shoes, pinned my Bib to my leg, and tightened my signature pony tail. I was ready. The road to 26.2 miles would be complete today.

I couldn’t help, but get choked up as I made my way to the Pentagon City Metro station. I wore number 30840 with pride, I had earned that number and my spot in this race, and I wasn’t going to let myself down. 

 Go Hadley Signs

They told us during the pep rally not to count miles up or down, but to just tell ourselves after every mile “I’ve got one more mile in me” and so I said to myself 26 times, I’ve got one more mile in me, and I did. The first few miles were my idea of hell, straight up hill. Thankfully, my good friend Carrie introduced me to a run that included Mass Ave which is over a mile up hill, so once a week after work I would set out on that run. My friend Daniel, who was also running somehow found me during the first few miles. It was so great to see a familiar face. Thankfully, for me that would not be the only familiar face I would see throughout the race. My wonderful friends Nikki and Carrie would be up ahead in Georgetown at mile 9 then again close to the Mall around mile 17. Having support on the course is invaluable. I had my name written on my shirt {I’m never one to pass up a compliment}, so I got several “go Hadley’s” from strangers. My favorite sign race day, was “ I’ve got a binder full of Marathoners”

At the halfway mark, 13.1 miles I stopped to go to the bathroom. One of my fellow runners had dropped their poopy diaper meters before the half way mark, leaving it in the middle of the course for all to see. I’m not intense enough to poop in a diaper, but waiting to pee did add about 15-20 minutes to my final time.

Big Bad Had

I’ve never run to beat a certain time, it’s always been about finishing for me. But in the back of my head I knew I had to reach the gauntlet {mile 17} and beat the bridge {mile 20} by a certain time or I would be taken off the course and bused to the end. I joked with all of my friends that I would run from the bus, if it came to that, which thankfully it did not.

As I crossed the bridge from DC to Virginia I spotted Danny, right after mile 20. I was feeling good, and had just started my “don’t stop” playlist on my ipod. My wall came at about mile 22. Everything hurt. Twenty-two miles was the furthest I had run. I looked to my right and saw two bright pink posters, there were Sarah and Kara. I told myself I’ve got one more mile.

The quote that played in my head throughout my whole race was “At mile 20 I thought I was dead, At mile 22 I wished I was dead, At mile 24 I knew I was dead, At mile 26.2 I realized I had become too tough to kill.” And at mile 24 I did know I was dead. It was the on ramp to 395, and the slightest incline was painful. I knew I had come this far without stopping or walking, and I would not let myself quit.

Mile 25

I ran beside countless men and women in uniform and people running in honor of loves ones they had lost during war. Runners all around me were walking or quitting, and I was not going to be one of them. At mile 25 I wanted to cry. Not because I was happy, but because I wanted to give up, and then beside me on their bikes were Carrie and Danny. I told myself I’ve got one more mile.

Mile 26, every marathoners happy place. I knew that the finish line was a hill, and that I would somehow have to conquer that hill. I knew Lisa, Amanda, Sarah, Danny, and Carrie would be there to see me conquer that hill.  In Five Hours thirty-nine minutes and nine seconds I ran the Marine Corps Marathon. I fought back the tears when I crossed that finish line. I had done it, I was a marathoner. I walked to Iwo Jima were a marine placed my finishers medal on my neck. I cried, and we hugged. My road to 26.2 was complete, and I definitely proved that, “this princess wears running shoes.” 

 Marine Corps Marathoner!

Why do i run?

Big Bad Had, during my 2nd 1/2 marathon

The simple, short answer is; so I can eat. When I was younger the only way you could get me to do anything, or at least anything I didn’t really want to do was to promise me a treat upon completion. My brother, stood at the bottom of the high dive at Sequoia with a box of Krispy Kreme donuts as an incentive for me to take the plunge, walks to the park with Sarah happened because I knew there was a 20 piece nugget meal waiting for me under that golden McDonalds arch. It’s common knowledge to people who know me that I run so I can eat.

headband with my moto on it " I run so i can eat" for my 3rd 1/2 marathon

I remember very vividly the first race I ever did. It was the Rudolph 5k in Nashville, with my whole family – there’s a picture that is engrained in my mind of me literally being dragged, each parent holding an arm, during the race. The look on my face said, I hate this and both of you for making me do this.

I didn’t start running, until high school and even then I was lucky if I made it a mile. I kept a running journal of my times, which route I ran, and the time of day, striving each day to get a little faster than the one before. I’ve struggled with weight my whole life, but when my feet hit that pavement, I feel light as a feather.

I didn’t fall in love with running until about 2 years ago. The past 2 years have been a tough time for me, emotionally and aside from finding comfort in friends and family, running provided me with an outlet for my frustrations and hurt, a goal for me to strive for, and a sense of accomplishment I never thought possible. If I go more than a few days without running, I start to miss it and yearn to be out there just me and my ipod pushing myself to go a little further each time.

after my very first 1/2 marathon

Twenty years ago, if you had said that girl in the picture, being dragged by her parents would be running her first marathon in October I would have said there’s no way in hell! Well, at the end of my marathon it may take both my parents each dragging one of my arms across that finish line, but the look on my face will tell a totally different story than that of 6 year old Hadley, it will say, I run because I love it.