February 25, 2018 will always be one of those dates that feels bigger than a square on the calendar.
It’s the day I did something I once quietly filed under “probably not for me.” I finished my first half marathon. And not just that — I completed my first runDisney Challenge: 19.3 miles over two very warm Florida mornings.
Looking back now, that weekend means even more than it did in the moment.
It came almost four years after ACL reconstruction. Two years after my very first runDisney 5K — the one that made me brave enough to dream out loud about longer distances. I had mapped out a plan to build toward a half marathon by 40. There were setbacks (hello, Wine & Dine sweep), there were doubts, and there were more than a few “what was I thinking?” moments when I signed up for the Fairytale Challenge.
After Wine & Dine, I honestly wondered if I’d set myself up to fail.
But here’s what I know now: I didn’t fail. I learned.
I adjusted my training. I respected the weekend mileage. I walked more than I ran. Some long runs required breaks. My pace? Let’s just say it wasn’t setting any records. But I was stacking miles. And for the first time since surgery, I could feel that my body was getting stronger. I’d finish back-to-back long workouts and still walk into work on Monday without pain. That felt like progress — even if the stopwatch disagreed.
Princess Weekend arrived with heat, humidity, and a forecast that did absolutely nothing for my confidence.
The Enchanted 10K kicked things off. It wasn’t fast. My knee reminded me it existed. My running buddy was struggling. The balloon ladies made a dramatic appearance behind us. But we crossed that finish line. And even though doubt crept in again afterward, I knew I had at least shown up for myself.
The half marathon morning was different.
I got on the 3 a.m. bus alone. No character lines this time. Just me, a bagel, some peanut butter, and a quiet conversation with another runner who happened to be in my same Princess Facebook group. We’d commented on each other’s posts for months and didn’t even realize it. She encouraged me before we split into separate corrals. It felt like a small bit of magic before the miles began.
When I crossed the start line at 6:02 a.m., my only real goal was simple: get to the castle.
I found an unnamed pacing partner in those early miles. We traded the lead back and forth. High-fived. Kept each other moving. Somewhere before mile four, I lost her in the crowd — but by then she’d already done what she needed to do.
Magic Kingdom changed everything.
Main Street. The castle at the end. The crowds. The noise. I forgot I was alone. I forgot I was hurting. I soaked it in. Took photos. Texted my parents. Lived inside that moment.
I’d told myself the night before that I could pull at mile six if I needed to. When I reached that point, I didn’t even consider it.
The real drama came later — out on World Drive in the beating sun. I’d been tracking the balloon ladies. My cushion was shrinking. By the 15K mat they were only minutes behind me. I knew the historic “hard sweep” point was coming at the overpass.
They caught me just before it.
I braced for the buses to roll.
They didn’t.
They let us go.
I can still remember looking down from the top of that ramp and seeing runners being loaded onto buses below while we kept moving forward. Someone yelled, “At this point you will finish!” and I believed it for the first time all morning.
Those final miles were pure grit. Heat. Fatigue. Emotion.
I called my friend Tina from the top of that overpass. She had told me the night before, “If you need me, call.” And she meant it. She walked while I walked. Listened to my silence. Laughed at my delirious race commentary. Even survived an accidental FaceTime. She stayed with me until I was .2 miles from the finish.
I took out my headphones for the last stretch.
And at 10:26 a.m. — exactly the time predicted at my 15K split — I crossed the finish line of the Princess Half Marathon.
I cried behind my sunglasses as they placed the medal around my neck. Then cried again walking into the Challenge tent. I was stunned. Relieved. Proud. Exhausted. Overwhelmed.
I had finished the Fairytale Challenge.
One of my favorite parts didn’t even happen on the course. The next day, I saw a post in our Facebook group:
“I don’t know your name, but thank you to the nice princess that was my pacer for the first four miles…”
It was her. My unnamed partner from those early miles. Just as she had helped me, I had helped her. That still gives me chills.
Time has passed since that weekend, but the meaning hasn’t faded.
That race wasn’t about pace. It wasn’t about proving anything to anyone else. It was about resilience. About coming back from surgery. About showing up after being swept. About doing it alone when I had to — and discovering I wasn’t actually alone at all.
It reshaped how I see hard things.
I did take time off afterward. I respected the plantar fasciitis. I dialed distances back. I shifted focus. But I never stopped moving. And I never stopped dreaming about what might be next - in fact the next year I completed the Castaway Cay Challenge including the 10k at Marathon weekend with that unnamed partner.
When I think back on Princess 2018 now, I don’t just remember the heat or the balloon ladies.
I remember the castle.
The overpass.
The phone call.
The finish line.
And the version of me who kept going anyway.
And that will always feel like magic. ✨
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