Some things stick with you for life. No matter how hard you try to overcome them, old thoughts and habits are always circulating around in the back of your mind. Or, at least they are for me. Elementary school was...shit...21 years ago, yet old feelings and personal ideals are still as fresh as they were then. I will forever remember gym class, dreading the summer time when classes were taken outside and activities that involved running, cardio and stamina prevailed. Trailing along behind the class for the 1k run. Watching all the "athletic" kids who were able to run the entire course, wondering what it was like, wishing I could be like them. Throwing temper tantrums in grade 5 because I didn't want to go to school because it was track and field day. I didn't want to live through another day of utter humiliation of being the slow fat kid, coming in last. Guess someone always had to be the loser.
For these reasons running a 5k race was once of the biggest accomplishments in my life. I have been practising and training for this moment since September. I've had a few set backs along the way. The latest being the week before the race. My kids have been passing a cold back and forth for the past month along with ear infections, taking me along for the ride. I've also been sick for the past month, which of course got worse the week before with congestion, plugged sinuses, you know, the works. I haven't had much time to take care of myself, let alone train in the past few weeks, so I went in not feeling totally confident of my capabilities, which, let's be honest here, aren't all that great to begin with.
The night before Piper was running a fever. I tried to get to bed as early as I could, but with a sick baby, even with a husband who is willing to take over, it is hard to get rest when you're worrying about her. I didn't drink any water the day before either, which in hindsight, hurt my ability to go as far running as I would have liked.
The day of, I was oddly calm. I treated it like I was just going out for a run as I would any other day, except this time it would be with 500 of my closest friends. I wanted Brad and James there to see me start, but due to some complications with the race, the school not being open, they went home instead to meet me at the finish line.
As the race started and everyone took off running, I felt good. My congestion seemed like it was going to bother me as I first took off and was worried when I got the urge to start walking even before we got around the block. However that feeling quickly passed. The first 2k felt good. I was able to keep a good pace, got passed, and passed others. Things felt good. We made it to a loop around and I walked for a little bit...no more than two minutes, like I had been training to do and started back along the way we had just come, to make the trip down the mountain. I walked most of that way, I wanted to be able to say I ran across the finish line. When I made it to the downhill portion, I ran the entire way. It felt incredible on the decline, like I could continue at that pace forever. All that kept going through my head was "Holy mother fucking shit, I am actually doing this!" When I made it to the bottom I walked a little bit more, saving myself for the "big finish". I rounded the corner and was able to see the finish, Trina, the most incredible fitness person I have ever met, was there to cheer on all of her people who crossed. If it wasn't for her yelling at me to sprint at the finish, I would have continued on trotting my merry way. What makes her different from anyone else who runs any of the classes I have ever taken, she actually does care. I am sad that I may not be able to continue on with her classes once I get back to work.
My time for the 5.56k run was 40 minutes 7 seconds. Sure, not a great time. In my head I was thinking I would be 45 minutes or more, so I did better than I anticipated. There was an error in the race layout, so instead of it being a 5k race, it was a 5.56k. The race organizers adjusted times to estimate what each person would have run if the race were an actual 5k even. I would have had a time of 36 minutes, 7 seconds. I finished in 403 place and was 40th in my age category. Sure it bothers me that only 60 people finished after me, and 402 finished before me. I have to remind myself this was my very first time ever having done this. I had a sinus cold and chest congestion. I was barely at 60% of my normal health and had next to no energy. All I could think was, next time I'll do even better. Wait. Next time? I'm already thinking about doing this again? Yeah, you know it. I'm hooked!
More important than any of the numbers and standings, any of that, was that James was able to be there and see Mommy cross the finish line. I tried to explain simply to James that you don't know if you can do something unless you try. I wanted him to see me do something I never ever thought I could do, or even would do. I crossed that line and just wanted to cry. Happy tears of joy, of accomplishment and maybe even of a little pain.
I did it. Cross that one off my bucket list. I did it. It may not seem like a big deal, but right now, I feel pretty fucking awesome.
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