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Deployment Soundtrack: Don't Stop Believin' 3.0
 Don’t Stop Believin’

            Journey, 1981

            Preview Song

My alarm went off at 4 a.m. That is an hour earlier than normal and it was Saturday.

There are so many things wrong with that last sentence, that I don’t even know where to begin. Today is the big day. I have trained. I have hydrated. Most importantly, I have picked out the perfect outfit.

Today, I am going to run 13.1 miles. Today, I am going to squash, no, pummel, that little voice in my head that has been whispering, "You can't do that."

Today is the day!

I jump in the shower, and dress. I put on the earrings that I normally wear. I put on my rings and watch. I put on my waterproof mascara and lipstick, because you know that someone is going to take pictures. My number is just where I want it and my shoes are laced up tight. I am ready for breakfast. I consume my normal long-run day breakfast:  protein shake and coffee. It is 5:30 a.m.. The sitter should be here soon.  

When I get nervous, I pace. I think I wore a hole in my floor that morning. I pace and I wait. As the clock ticked away, there was no sitter. I had built in some time for her to be late. After all, she is in college, and it was early. I remember those days! My friend arrived to drive us to the race and there was still no sitter.

I text. She calls. She is on her way, but we have a 45-minute drive just to get to the starting line. I text a neighbor, and she sends over her daughter to sit until the sitter arrives. We are on our way to the race.

Breathe, Sarah. Just breathe.

We arrive at the starting line with 20 minutes to spare! That is long enough to get our bearings, go to the bathroom and stretch just a little. Whew! As we ready our music, my friend gave me some parting words of wisdom. I think it was something about going slow, but quite honestly, I don't remember. I vaguely remember the run beginning, but I remember checking my iPod for my pace.

I start slow. I start in the back. I was ready to go the distance. My sweet friend ran with me for about the first mile and I am so glad she did. She is a very experienced runner. Her training pace is faster than mine and at her adrenaline (or race) pace, she could have finished the race, gone home, showered, come back and still have to wait for me to finish. I have to tell you, I want to be like her when I grow up! She is amazing. She had a finish time goal in mind for the day and my goal was just to finish, at least that is what I told people.

As I get through the first couple of miles, I feel good. This is what I have trained to do, and I can do this. Just then, I realize that "the girls" are moving around much more than normal. I put my hand on my chest to discover that my compression sports bra is coming unzipped. Holy cow! Are you kidding?

In my haste to get my earphone and wires tucked down into my bra before we started, I forgot to make certain that it was fully zipped and locked. I slow to a walk and quickly rectified the situation!

Then at mile four or so, I feel my underwear begin to slip. Like any person who has been a tester by trade or has any shred of OCD, I wear the same "foundation" pieces every time I run. I want to make sure nothing slides, bunches or otherwise moves during the course of my run. Are you kidding me? How much more can one person take?

Now, everything is staying where I put it, and I continue on my quest for the finish line. Now, it is just me, my iPod and my thoughts.

When we train, we run a mile and then we walk for a minute or two. Then we run again, and typically, that begins to correspond with water points along the route during a race. All I remember saying in my head was, 'Sarah, just get to the water point.' Sometimes life and deployments can be that way. We run until we get to the water point. Then we slow down and take a deep breath and let the heart rate (and blood pressure) go down. Then we begin with a renewed spirit!

Everything that I have read states that if you can run 10 miles, then you can run 13, but again, as an analyst, I need to test in a true environment before I go into production! I had run 10 miles before, and complained the whole time, so I knew I could get through mile ten.

Once I see the sign that reads, Mile 11, crazy Sarah takes over. When people say that  running is more about your head than your legs, I now know what that means. I am so glad no one can hear the conversation in my head: 'I can't do it. I'm not going to make it. Yes, you can. This is not about {insert many names}. This is about you! This is about knowing that you can do this having not tested it. This is about having faith in yourself!'

I walk through the last water point and began to run again. I round the last turn with about half a mile to the finish line when a well-meaning volunteer shouts, "You are almost there! Keep going! Turn left. Go through the park, and you are finished!"

At that point, dear friends, it becomes very clear to me that I was about to overcome a self-imposed obstacle, so I did what any normal person would do. I began to hyperventilate and cry.

That makes sense, right? It felt like I was trying to draw every breath from my collar bone. I slow down to regain my composure, and once I can breathe, I pick up the pace to bring it all to the finish line.

I remember vividly running past the water park. I remember more volunteers clapping for me as I passed. I remember passing a sign for a Gun Show that day and I thought about our joke in gym about having tickets to the "gun show".

When I saw the inflatable finish line, I begin to sprint, and when I say sprint, I mean that someone should have been looking for the scary clown that was chasing me! I pass the bathrooms and people clapping. I was almost there!

I hear someone shout, "Way to finish strong!" I hear my time chip beep, and just like that, it was over! Two hours, 28 minutes and 52 seconds had passed and I finished. I didn't know what to do until my sweet friend grabs me and gives me the biggest hug I have gotten in five months!

I throw that medal around my neck. I don't want to take it off. We post pictures on Facebook. I send pictures to my husband downrange. Then, we eat a huge breakfast. I come home exhausted but happier than I have felt in a long time. I planned. I executed. I performed. This time it was all about me fighting the demons in my head and winning!

Think about that during your deployment. Think about that self-talk. You have the power to make anything that you want happen. Your "water point" can be bed time everyday. I remember those days! It was a sprint to get from wake up to bed time. When you get rundown and feel like you can't keep going, just set a short term goal. Just make it to the next water point! You can do it! I believe in you!

Strength and Courage ... sby

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