After 8 weeks of training, the time had come for me to run my 5K. I'd spent the first 7 weeks on a schedule that included two 20 minute runs, one long run, and two days of cross-training, so when that final week rolled around when it was scaled back to include one 20-minute run, one hour of XT, and one 10-minute run, I felt like I was going to go crazy. I was so tempted to do more than the schedule directed, but after reading numerous articles about the importance of rest before a race in the weeks previous, I did my best to adjust my eating to accommodate the taper and just veg out pretty much.
Even though the goal of the training was simply to do easy runs, I pushed myself each and every time - of course, when it's just an extra bit nippy outside, the pace seemed to quicken all on its own. I'd noticed an overall change in my pace from say a 10:00-10:30 minute mile average down to a 9 minute mile. With the little bit of extra rest, I got down to an 8:30 minute mile average. It was incredible! I realize there are all kinds of people who run faster than this, but honestly, it doesn't really matter. It's just nice to know that I CAN do this!
Toward the end of the week, my mind was consumed with the idea that I must have the perfect outfit as the words of a salesgirl at Fleet Feet in Ridgeland really resonated with me: "It's not how fast you run; it's how cute you look." I knew that I wanted to wear my Skirt Sports Tough Girl Skirt, but I was a little unsure about the top. Given that the weather had been so chilly those two weeks or so before the event, I knew I wanted something warm, but I knew that the event issued long-sleeved tee just wasn't going make me feel pretty. I'd stopped in to a Dick's Sporting Goods store and wander around the women's Nike and Under Armour sections when I'd picked up our "race packets" on Wednesday. This has become old hat for me - it's the point that I actually feel at home as I browse which could be a sad commentary on my life, but I try to veer from negativity like that. ;) At any rate, I found the most beautiful white 1/4 zip from Under Armour - the photos on their website don't do it justice. I really liked it, but as it was full price (as UA stuff generally is), I tried to shrug it off and put it on my Christmas list. Well.... all I could think about Thursday night/Friday morning was that bloomin' 1/4 zip, so I resolved to seek out my beloved's mother-in-law's assistance in the matter. Angel that she is - she picked it up on Friday and I washed it that night. I know, I know. I broke the "nothing new on race day" rule, but well, what can I say? I sure did feel cute.
As for the event, I wasn't exactly sure what to expect from a race packet, and to be quite honest, now that I've seen one, I still don't know if I've actually seen a typical race packet. I was under the impression that we'd have a nice little packet of pertinent information (like a map of the race route, schedule, tips for staying fit/recognizing the signs of breast cancer, etc.) along with our number and t-shirt. Instead (for individual participants), there was a crate of file folders with race numbers, filed alphabetically by last name. There were four volunteers working the pick-up table, but only one was working with individuals while the other three were there to assist with group pick-ups. I should note that the majority of the people who were in line when I stopped by were individuals... But patience is a virtue that doesn't always come so easily to me. Once our numbers were located, they along with our t-shirts were put in a plastic pink Bank of America bag. The only other thing in the bag? An advertisement for a Komen credit card.
Our wee man kept waking up, as if he could sense the anticipation in the air. I woke up around 5AM and did my best to get dressed in the dark before heading downstairs with hopes that Coop could sleep a little longer before his grandparents were called into duty. I believe I had a banana and a piece of cinnamon raisin toast along with a bit of coffee before we headed over to the mall. I'd been cool as a cucumber about my actual performance in the race up until that morning. I mean I knew I could make it through the distance even if I wound up walking, but I was just nervous that I'd do something silly like fall out, trip on my own two feet....
We sat in the car for a few moments, just watching the other participants - trying to figure out what our next course of action might be. We wandered over to where a mass of people were. We saw the registration tents and then a few information/activity booths... but the line to get into the booths was at least 50 people long, so no time before the race. We proceeded to wander over in front of the impromptu stage where a dedicated fitness instructor was leading the aerobic warm-up, which soon turned into a Zumba demonstration. Props to her for doing it in front of total strangers, but there's no way I would have been able to shake what my momma gave me like that in public without a heavy dose of alcohol involved.
A few minutes later, we heard some mumble from the stage about lining up at the start - the runners up front and the walkers in the back. We just sort of followed everyone else because we had no idea where the start line was. Once we got into what seemed to be the line, I noticed that there were pace range signs up along side the road to help arrange the chaos. Of course, there were only a handful of people who actually saw the signs. We finally noticed someone on a lift with a shotgun (tend to notice such things) and we waited to hear the shot. Finally, it rang out.
Then the pushing and shoving commenced. Had the start line extended the full length of the road in which we were lined up, it might have been a bit easier going. As such there was a bit of a bottleneck, so when I finally approached the line, I followed the example of some other runners and ducked under the tape (didn't have a timing chip so it didn't matter). Then it really began. I did my best to hold back as it's so easy to speed up to an unsustainable pace at first for me, but I couldn't help myself. I was passing people left and right. Brad kept close for the first little bit, and when I pulled away at about the half mile mark UNINTENTIONALLY, I just figured he'd catch up with me eventually. Somewhere around the first mile and a half, I fell in step with the runners around me. At any moment, I just knew I'd have to walk, but I figured I'd keep going just as long as I could. I was running alongside real runners. I mean how cool was that??
The last mile seemed to last an eternity. I knew the finish line existed somewhere in the vicinity of where I was, but as I rounded the familiar stores, it seemed it had to be moving farther and farther away. I found myself turning to look for Brad, as his words of inspiration had gotten me through those last seemingly impossible minutes on our training runs many a time, but alas, he was no where to be found. If I was gonna make it across the line, I was gonna have to pep myself up to do it.
Just keep picking 'em up and putting 'em down. That was all I could think.
When I saw the timer as I crossed the line, it read 28:36. Brad crossed about 15 seconds later. I'd set my phone to track my time, but I forgot to stop it when I crossed the first line - however Brad was a bit more diligent with his tracking. According to his phone, he's finished in 28:14, which would put me right about 28:00!!! I'd never been able to maintain that sort of pace for the distance! Yee haw!
We celebrated with friends by having brunch. :D
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