Before my first half marathon – the 2011 Rock-N-Roll Half Marathon – I was incredibly nervous. I did anything I could to take my mind off of the impending start. I had conversations I don’t remember, and politely nodded at a co-worker who came over to chat, all the while wondering if it was possible to run – that is, run away and not do the race at all!

Since my sister-in-law and I (we were running the race together and both received registrations from my brother as a Christmas gift) were in the very last corral, we had almost a 30 minute wait once the race commenced.

As we waiting, we listened to the announcers banter and comment on runners’ costumes (which included tutus, bridal veils, a Hokie hat, and a man who juggled the whole race), race teams, and other notable facets of competitors, when one of the announcers actually said something that made me pause.

“There is no particular ‘runner-type’ anymore.”

As I looked around me, it was true. Sure, there were a few lithe gazelles whose perfect “my thighs don’t touch” physique screamed runner girl. But mostly, the people around me were of all shapes, sizes, and ages. There were men who looked like they were born strapped to a treadmill, and a few who may have starred in the last season of The Sopranos. There was even a person on crutches who completed the race, and one girl who did it in a walking boot.

Appearance didn’t seem to have anything to do with performance, either. I followed a girl who seemed to be so fit she was comfortable running in a tiny sports bra and shorts no bigger than a napkin. Yes, I was absolutely jealous. By the second mile, as I was going strong, she was walking. I never saw her again after that.

There were also people who didn’t look like they’d be fast, but who lapped me as easily as if I stood still. One woman must have been pushing two hundred pounds, as a conservative estimate, but she blew by me like a tornado. There were girls who looked like they trained with Jillian Michaels, and people who looked like they’d never run a mile. It made me feel good, and actually pause to appreciate the wonders of the human body. I was just awed by everyone who tried. The diversity inspired me. I may not look like a runner, but I know I can do it, and will continue to do it for as long as I can.

I finished the race in 2 hours and 42 minutes. My goal was 2:45. My brother signed me up for the very last corral and set a projected finish time of 3:10. I set PRs for my 5k, 8k, and 10k along the way. I learned a lot along the way about myself and the power of positivity, training, and faith.

I might have had a few meltdowns, mishaps, and moments of weakness along the way, but after all these months, I know that I deserve that sticker on the back of my car that proudly proclaims “I rocked 13.1.”

Jaime Miller is a contributing author to Tidewater Performance Center’s LIVING LIFE STRONGER Blog. She is a teacher in York County, a client at the Tidewater Performance Center and can now say she’s completed her first half marathon. Read how she got into running here.