So this past weekend I ran in (and actually finished) my 3rd 5K of the summer. As I had mentioned before I finished my first two in 27:42 and 27:29. To translate that time for the uninitiated... I was fast enough to beat everyone who was walking, watching or dead. So that's something I suppose.
Anyway, this time I felt good about my ability to post a personal best time. I had some new running shoes, and I had been back at school for a couple of weeks. For those of you that don't teach for a living, let me just say that every day spent teaching is like a day spent hiking... uphill... in snow. I actually carry a little pedometer/calorie counter with me now and I average between 3-5 miles of walking per school day. Who knew right? Needless to say even when I wasn't dragging my ass to the gym, I felt as if I was getting some form of exercise in.
So on race day eve I was joined by a good buddy who agreed to run with me. Dinner? A mound of pasta with my homemade sauce. (I am Italian therefore I am bound by law to make my own sauce. Purchasing a jar of sauce is a sin punishable by death in some families). After partaking in our fill of carbs we settled in to get as much sleep as possible. One of the problems with running 5K's is that they all start so damn early in the morning. This one kicked off at 7:30. Given the 20-30 minute drive, plus time to actually wake up enough to function (much less run) I was waking up way earlier than I like to (especially on a blessed work-free Saturday).
So we wake up and it's still pitch black outside. Oh, and since I'm running a race, coffee is verboten. See coffee dehydrates the body and since I sweat like a polar bear in a sauna, I was going to need every ounce of hydration I could muster. So I'm tired, I'm grouchy and I'm caffeine free. Fan-friggin-tastic.
We get to the park a good 30 minutes before the race. Enough time to check in, stretch and eyeball the competition. Now at this stage in my career I can pretty much barely finish this race standing up. Then there are people that run an entire 5K just to warm up for the real 5K. Seriously people? Way to ruin the curve for the rest of us. Damn overachievers.
So now it's time to start the race. We all gather by the starting line. We get our pre-race instructions. I fire up my iPod. I feel loose. I'm ready to go. Eye of the Tiger. Let's do this. Ready... set... go! Damn a lot of people just passed me.
I settle in to the first mile. I'm getting passed, but I'm doing some passing as well. Just ahead I spot a girl, maybe 10-years old. OK, this little girl is not going to beat me. She has just become the rabbit at the end of the stick. I pass the 1-mile marker and I feel good. According to my playlist I did it in a little under 8 minutes.
Now we're into the 2nd mile. The little girl is still just ahead of me. Plenty of time to track her down. I make the turn at the halfway point and amazingly I don't want to puke my guts out yet. The rest of the 2nd mile goes by, a little slower than the first. I'm trying to not stop and walk and I'm still trying to catch that little girl. That doesn't sound too creepy right? It's at this point that I reach back and attempt to find that extra gear. That little extra something that will get me through this race. Of course I dig down deep and find a 35-year old body that I haven't exactly been kind to over the years. My body gives me a "Are you f-ing kidding me?" look. So... no extra gear huh? OK then... good to know.
Finally I finish the 2nd mile. One more to go and this pleasant form of torture will be over. At this point the 10-year old is a speck in the distance. Seriously... I'm getting my ass handed to me by a child. Certainly no ego-deflater there right? Midway through the 3rd mile I finally need to stop for a bit and catch my breath, and remind my feet they are not, in fact, on fire. And do I need to mention the heat I'm running in? It's Florida, it's August... enough said right? Good.
I somehow make it to the 3-mile marker. Just a tenth of a mile left. As I round the corner I can see the timer just tick over to 26 minutes. Holy crap I'm actually doing well. (FatMan well... but still... w00t!) I suddenly find the tiniest bit of extra energy. Enough to make it across the finish line kinda sorta almost fast. Enough to fool my children into thinking I was that fast the entire race. I stumble across the finish line at 26:30.. a full minute faster than my previous personal best! What's more amazing is that I'm still standing and able to form words. I hug my kids and can actually carry on a conversation with them.
So apparently I'm getting better at this whole running thing. In fact, if I lose another 20 pounds and build a working time machine, I might actually get competitive with this stuff!
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