Loosely translated it means...I ran my first 8k for Cinco de Mayo on the 4th of May.
I am pretty sure I will be shot for that butchering but I have a thing for numbers when there are many of them in a sentence.
So, I ran it. AND I set a new PR!! For my entire life!!
I have been consistently slow for EVER! and this time, instead of my usual 5k's, I stepped it up, committed and pushed myself to an 8k. I set a goal of running around 53 minutes. I didn't want to be disappointed but I knew there was a possibility for that depending on exhaustion, stomach cramps, asthma flare-up, temperature, proper fuel, hydration, etc.
I don't mean to elevate myself but I am a huge goal setter and rarely do I fail. I consider myself a person that has a good grasp on reality and what pushing myself means. I don't set lofty expectations and therefore setting myself up for inevitable failure but I don't set goals that do nothing for progress either.
Long story short...I hated running. In high school "run the mile" day in PE would send me into a week of hives and anxiety attacks. I would be sweating over my breakfast on the day of doom and it was all I could do to remain upright when dressing in my regulation shorts and t-shirt during 3rd period. When the "gun shot" was fired and the class took off in a flurry of nerves and over-confidence, I would pat myself on the back as I rounded the first lap. 400 meters and I was smokin' fast at just under 90 seconds. I was proud for that first lap, averaging a 6 minute mile and then my endurance would skyrocket straight down to rock bottom. I would come crawling in at 9:09 (my fastest time) and lay there, chest heaving, waiting for someone to call 911. I tried the asthma card a few times but ultimately, it just came down to hatred. Pure hate for running the mile.
I have been on a mission since Christmas to remove all remains of pregnancy #5 off my body. I work hard. No shortcuts about it. I eat less crap, lots of protein, few calories, I exercise hard and I run. It liberates me from stress, doubt, self-pity and hunger and it fills me with pride, direction, confidence and gratitude.
Fast forward to May 4, 2013. I fuel myself well, I wear clothing that allows just the right amount of
support, comfort and movement and I bring along my biggest fans (minus my son) to cheer me on. I start strong, I feel strong, I think "holy crap! Why do I do these races? This is hard EVERY TIME!" and I force myself to keep going after I pass the initial 5k distance. I am used to 5ks and so another 2 miles is 90% mental. All I can think is "walk for just a minute. It doesn't mean you fail, 53 minutes is just an approximate...you don't have to beat it."
BUT I tell myself to SHUT UP and I DON'T stop running!!
So, I keep going, and it's not easy. And it's hotter than this Seatte-ite is used to. But it is gorgeous and inspiring and I want to look back later after I have showered and done my hair and think, "I gave it my all and now I can rest and wear a silly grin knowing that I have no regrets."
The last quarter mile is one lap around the Mount Si High School track and it is the worst part. You see the finish line but you have to run away from it and it seems 50 miles away. But I pass my 4 girls and my supportive husband cheering for me and I don't look back. I don't want to see their faces that tell me I am not going to make it!
I round that bend, pull up the last bit of energy I can find in my lead legs and I FINISH. THAT. RACE! The clock says 1 hr 19 minutes but I know that is for the half marathoners so I have no idea what I am up against. I walk over to the refueling station, grab a bottle and remember that I forgot to turn off my GPS at the finish line.
Moment of truth...I check my iphone app and it says I have been running 50+ minutes. What? WHAT!! That means I ran it in less since I didn't calculate the walking time to the water station. I do a bit of a happy dance and head to find Rob and the girls. I am a bit chatty and nervous and excited that I did something huge. I just don't know how huge yet.
I stretch, we head to the car, we can't find Eden. I load the 3 other girls up and Rob walks back to find her inside the high school gym. They take a long time. I am surprised. We are parked right in front of the runners passing by for the half marathon and I look at their exhausted faces. And I think, NOPE, I don't think I will choose to run one of those again. I am quite content with my little baby races. They are just enough.
They finally come back to the car. I ask if he by chance saw anyone post the results. He smiles and asks "didn't you get my email?" NO! I look. It's a picture of the results.
I ran that cotton-pickin race in 49 minutes and 46 seconds!! I did a fist pump and a mini make out session with the iphone screen.
Over 3 minutes ahead of my goal?! I BLEW that questionable goal right out of the frickin' Atlantic!! Just weeks ago I was running a 10:45 on a 5k and with proper endurance training, speedwork and strength training, I have slapped that puppy down to a 10:01 average over 5 MILES!! I just glow. I FEEL amazing. And for the first time, I am faster than this race's average.
Listen, I know this post might be a little amped up for something that might seem pathetic to you but it's mine! This goal and accomplishment, after years of roller coaster set backs, is all mine!!
I took High School Rachel's face in my hands and told her she could do anything she worked hard for, even if she loathed it. It's like peanut butter for me. It used to be one my least favorite foods on the planet, now I would roll around in it, licking every last bit of my skin like a cat.
I can't wait to see where I go from here.
No comments:
Post a Comment