Heart pounding, legs shaking, sweat dripping, I did not care: I crossed the finish line after running 13.1 miles. Although my body was exhausted, all I could think about was this great success of running a half marathon. As I sprinted toward the finish line, I saw my family and friends cheering me on. I was overwhelmed by happiness: I had just beat the voice in my head that told me “You can’t do it.”

I began training four months prior to the half marathon, only able to run for thirty minutes at a time. Each week I increased my mileage, while strengthening my endurance. I would come home from school, change my clothes, and start my run. Like so many times before, I put my headphones in my ear and just went for it. Time and worries seemed to slip away immediately. All I noticed was the road in front me, and I did not look back. Although I loved this new daily habit, after a while, what was once so exciting, seemed to be just another task. Balancing course work, social events, training, and a healthy diet started piling up, and I had to find the balance.  I felt like I was on a the teacup ride, unable to get off. I was trying my best. When I discovered that I had tendonitis, everything seemed to come crashing down at once. Because of this, I was only able to run eight miles during my training; I was never able to run the 11 miles necessary to complete the training. Tendonitis had begun to slow down my training and my personal goals. I ignored the tendinitis, and kept pushing. One day, I pushed too hard. I had barely made it down the block when I knew I had to stop and turn around. I held back tears and slowly walked home. When I crosses the threshold, I collapsed. My legs were shaking and I could not get up. I think I laid down for a half hour just trying to process what was happening. So many thoughts flooded my mind. I began to hear the voice saying “You can’t do it,” and I started to believe it. If my body was not able to circle around the block, there is no way my body would be able to make it through 13.1 miles. The race was only a couple of weeks, and I felt doomed. I iced and stretched my legs religiously, and prayed I would heal quickly. Preparing for race day was the only thing on my mind. The fact that my record was only eight miles at that moment seemed to slip away.

Before I knew it, my 4 A.M. alarm went off. It was race day. I jumped out of bed and started eating my energy gummies to help prepare for physically grueling task that lie ahead of me. My aunt and I stepped outside to the cold Baton Rouge weather and stood in line. The daunting task was here, and the negative thoughts had managed to enter my mind once again. I took a deep breath, said a prayer and waited. After what felt like forever, the gun fired. Like I had done so many times before, I put my headphones in my ears and ran. I forgot about the stress and the pain of everything. The moment I had been waiting for was here. All I had to do was make it to the finish line.

Needless to say, I made it to the finish line. My body truly surprised me that day. All of the adrenaline kept pumping and helped me run those extra 5.2 miles I had never trained for. In that moment, I do not even remember the pain from the tendonitis. All I remember is nearing the finish line and hearing my friends and family screaming for me. It was such a powerful moment, and I was thankful for everything running had done for me. Running not only helped me gain a new lifestyle, but beat the voice in my head who once told me “You can’t do it.”