How I ran my fastest half marathon—and still almost gave up

 

I wanted to share a little story with you about something I accomplished recently. I ran a half marathon. If you remember, one of my big goals for 2025 was not just to run a half marathon, but to break the 2-hour mark.

This wasn’t my first half marathon. I’d run three before. Two were right after I had my kids, 14 and 13 years ago. The last one was in 2019, which honestly was a disaster. Back then, I was struggling with blood sugar issues the whole training cycle. I would throw up after every long run. During the race, I made it to mile 8 before feeling faint and seeing double. I had to walk-run the rest. I was beyond discouraged crossing that finish line.

This time, I wanted it to be different. I trained smarter, ate better, and made it about more than me. I decided to dedicate my race to raising awareness for childhood cancer. I wrote the names of four children on my arm: Ryan, Waylen, Cam, and Olivia. I told myself I was running for them.

I started training in early February for the April 26th Derby Half Marathon here in Louisville, Kentucky, with over 20,000 runners. Instead of just following a basic mile progression like I’d done before, I used an app called RUNNA. It completely changed my training. It built in speed work, progression runs, hills, and easy days, all personalized based on my current 5K time. Honestly, it was the best training tool I’ve ever used. I’d recommend it to anyone looking to level up their running. Here is a 2 week free trial code if you are interested RUNNAVBY1QY3

Training went surprisingly well. Sure, I had a rough 8.5-mile run where I just didn’t want to keep going. That was also when I injured myself. I tripped on a rocky road and hurt my knee, groin, and quad. But I kept training, reminding myself that the kids I was running for go through far harder things than a bum leg.

Race day came. I felt ready. My goal pace was 9:10 per mile to break 2 hours. I’d been training closer to 8:20-8:40, so I was confident. Of course, nerves kicked in. My kids and ex-husband came to cheer me on with signs, which meant the world. Friends texted me messages during the race that came through my headphones. Honestly, that tip alone kept me going every time I wanted to quit.

The first few miles flew by. I got a great motivational text at mile 2 that said, "This is your last run. That’s it—just this one." It lifted me. But around mile 4, I noticed something. I started comparing myself to everyone around me. "Am I going too slow? Why are they passing me?" I was checking my watch constantly, second-guessing myself, unlike my training runs when I just let the miles happen.

By mile 7, I was relieved to be over halfway. I couldn’t wait for mile 8, when we’d run through Churchill Downs. Yes, that Churchill Down, the KY Derby track, because that meant I was about to hit the 4 mile straightaway to the finish line. But by mile 9, I wanted to quit. My mind kept whispering, "Why are you doing this? You could just stop."

I looked down at the names on my arm. I remembered what they’ve been through. I told myself, "Your leg’s fine. Keep going."

At mile 10, I finally saw my kids and ex-husband cheering. It gave me a boost. Right after, the doubts came back. Even at mile 11, with just 2 miles to go, I was bargaining with myself. "Come on, it’s just 2 miles. You make your kids run that distance."

Mile 12, I was head down, tunnel-visioned, blocking out the crowd. The last mile? Pure misery. I knew from my earlier pace I had enough time banked to hit my goal, even if I slowed down. But the dizziness kicked in and the mental battle raged. I just kept repeating, "One foot in front of the other."

Finally, I crossed the finish line and looked up: 1 hour, 54 minutes. I did it. I’d broken 2 hours.

But here’s the thing. Physically, I had it in me. My training proved it. My body was fine. Yet mentally? That race almost broke me. I couldn’t believe how much my mind tried to sabotage me, even though my body was ready.

It made me realize this isn’t just a “me” thing. Athletes at all levels go through this. I thought of soccer games growing up, or even pro athletes who crush it all season only to fall apart under the Super Bowl lights. The nerves, the pressure, the moment can hijack even the best training.

So, I’ve been thinking. What could I have done differently to calm the nerves, to stay grounded? Here are three things I’m taking forward for next time:

 1. Trust your training. I learned that checking my watch constantly messed with my head. Next time, I’ll trust the work I’ve put in and focus on effort, not every split.

 2. Practice mental strength, not just physical. I plan to add mental strategies into training—visualizing tough miles, practicing positive self-talk, and learning to quiet the inner critic before race day.

3. Remember your “why.” When it got hard, looking at the names on my arm reminded me I wasn’t just running for me. Keeping that purpose front and center carried me further than I realized.

Thanks for letting me share this journey with you. Whether you’re training for a race, working toward a big goal, or just trying to push through life’s "mile 9 moments," I hope my story reminds you that you’re stronger than your doubts. One foot in front of the other really does get you there.