It's the day of the big race! My first 5K ever! I have only been running for about eight weeks, but my trainer/friend somehow talked me into this crazy scheme: run a 5K. (Uh...okay?) It's about three weeks before Christmas and it’s pretty cold outside -- about 25 degrees! I am usually not a morning person, but today my nerves are revved up. I am seriously stoked and bouncing off the walls. My heart is already racing and the butterflies in my stomach just won’t seem to settle down. Somehow, I don’t leave enough time to get myself ready in the morning. How does that always happen?
I triple-check that I put my fancy runner’s watch on. My sister-in-law let me borrow one of her running watches so that I could keep track of my time while I’m running. She told me I need to start my watch as soon as I cross the starting mat and not when the gun goes off. You see, this is a chip-timed race, so all of the runners have little computer chips attached to their shoelaces and the chip starts when you cross the starting mat.
On the suggestion of my trainer/friend, I made a goal for myself…I wanted to finish this race in under 38 minutes and I wanted to run the entire distance. (Now, for you non-runners out there, that’s about a 12.5 minute mile pace…pretty slow in the running world, but downright lightning fast in mine.)
I made a pot of coffee, but of course, I didn’t leave myself enough time to drink it. Typical. Now, my trainer/friend has showed up in my driveway. I grabbed my Gatorade (because, that’s what athletes drink) and tossed my runner’s bib (that’s fancy runner lingo for “race number piece-of-paper-thingy that you safety pin to your shirt”), earmuffs, gloves, and my inhaler (yeah, I have what they call “allergy-induced asthma”…it’s dumb) into an old plastic bag that I grabbed from under the sink and headed outside. I bounded to the car, flung open the door with a huge smile and hopped in. My friend grimly glanced over at me with a scowl on her face.
“Uhhhh. What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing. She says. “I’m just really tired. I was seriously thinking about cancelling today. In fact, if I didn’t have to pick you up, I would’ve just bailed out on the race. It’s so cold out and I’m so tired.”
“Awww! You can’t cancel out now! We’re running! I’m running my first race! It’s gonna be AWESOME!” I exclaim. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you pumped up!” So here I am, all giddy and hyper and talking about a mile a minute and my friend is just frowning at me.
I had coerced another friend of mine to be my pacer during the race. You see, having only run three miles once or twice during my training, I was a tad worried that I’d wimp out and walk, or run too slow and not hit my goal. So, I asked a buddy of mine to run with me to keep me on pace. (My training coach was going for a PR and would be light years ahead of me.) We stop to pick up my running pacer, Matt, and then we’re off to the races! (Ha! I’ve always wanted to say that.) I tell them both that I am not going wear the jingle bell they gave us as part of our race packet because having that little bell tied to my shoe will probably annoy the heck out of me while I run.
They concur and we ditch our bells.
I keep mindlessly babbling on about random stuff and my trainer is just politely nodding or mumbling off one-word responses. (I seriously cannot shut up.) When we get to the venue where the race is, I see they have coffee and hot cocoa available for the runners.
“Oooh! You need coffee!” I said. “I do too! C’mon. Let’s get a cup.” Now, at this point, I'm pretty sure that caffeine was the last thing I needed, but the hot drink seemed like a good idea.
She sips her coffee, we continue to chat and she’s slowly coming around with a more positive attitude as she wakes up and warms up. We finish our coffee and I am still wired, feeling like I’m barely being contained and my clothes are the only thing holding my insides from flying apart. My trainer then takes that moment and apologizes for her earlier grumpy mood and says, “Is this what it’s like for you in the mornings? Every morning?”
I smile knowingly. YES! Someone who is a morning person (i.e. my trainer) finally seems to get what it’s like for all of us other non-morning people! I chuckled. “Yes, Yes. It is. That’s exactly how I feel every morning!” And she shook her head in sympathy. “Geesh. That sucks.”
We finally head out to line up for the race. Man! There are a ton of people here. It’s jammed! There seems to be about a thousand people crammed into about 500 square feet of space.
The gun goes off. BAM!
ZING! My heart starts to race. The blood is pumping through my veins and me feet feel like their rats trapped in a cage trying to get out. I’m scurrying and hurrying and trying to weave my way in and out of all the people…to break through the initial crowd so I can settle into my pace. Also, I’m looking for the actual starting mat. You know, the one I’m supposed to cross over and start my watch at? Then I hear from other runners that there isn’t one. The chip starts when the gun goes off for this particular race. Darn it! Now my time won’t be totally accurate since I’m all jammed up in this silly mess of people. I hit the start button on my watch about 25 yards after the gun went off.
There are so many people! I’ve never had to run with so many people. Get out of the way! It’s so annoying. And those dang jingle bells that everyone’s got on…It’s like angry Christmas elves are on strike. I knew it would bug me. Finally, the road opens up a bit. The jingle bells are not so deafening. Matt and I are running comfortably and I remind him that we’ll try for a quicker first mile, knowing that it’s all downhill. I see the half-mile marker. I glance down at my fancy runner’s watch and gasp. It just ticked over five minutes. Holy crap! That’s fast! If I keep up this pace, it’ll be my fastest mile ever! Of course, I’ll for sure run out of steam before the end of the race and that’s no good either. One of my main goals is to run this entire race. I keep going. Runners are passing us now. I’m freaking out a little. Then I try to slow my breathing and remember what my sister-in-law said, “Don’t panic. Runners will pass you. Just keep your pace, check your watch and reassure yourself that you’re right on target. Just don’t panic.” I glance behind me. There’s a huge sea of runners. Okay. I’m not in the back. That’s good. Boy, it really is easy to feel flustered. Matt starts telling some jokes and spewing random pop trivia to take my mind off the running. My trainer warned him I need distractions. She also gave him a big speech about how I would try to talk him into walking part of the race and that I would want to slack off. She told him not to let me, no matter what I said or how bad I whined.
Gee. Thanks. (She really does know me well!)
I see my husband and kids standing on a corner cheering for me. I smile and wave and I give my six-year-old a high-five as I run by. They were cheering and holding signs that said, “Go Mommy Go!” It was exhilarating!
We come up to the one mile marker and I check my watch again. 10:55. I just ran a mile in ten minutes and fifty-five seconds. WHOA! That was the fastest mile I’ve run since I began running just eight weeks ago. I didn’t even feel like I was going pass out! I tell Matt, “We better slow down. I’m never gonna make it otherwise.”
“Ohhh yeah,” he agrees, nodding his head. “We’ll lay off a little.” And then, just barely, we slow our pace.
We turn the corner into the park. Now we’re running on gravel. Matt starts to get a cramp and his breathing sounds off. “You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Just a cramp.” He replies. “It’s this cold air,” I say. “I knew it was gonna be tough on you. You’ve been training inside on the treadmill. It’s much harder in 35 degrees.”
He replies, “I’ve gotta walk a sec. Just go ahead of me.”
“You sure?” I ask.
“Yeah, go on,” he insists.
So I keep chugging along. I see the two mile marker ahead and I glance around to see Matt and I hold up two fingers in the air, “Comin’ up on mile two!” I yell. After about another 100 feet or so, Matt catches up to me. We’re side-by-side again. About three minutes go by and I hear Matt swear under his breath.
“Cramp again?” I ask. He nods his head and slows down, waving me to go on. I keep going.
See ya, Matt!
Sorry dude, but I’m going for a personal record here…my very first P.R.! I feel kind of bad as I take off in front of him. After all, I was ditching my pacer. I felt like I was leaving a man down. Oh well. I’m not in the battle field, right? And besides…he told me to go. So I went. Ahhh. The inner struggles going through my head as I leave my buddy in the dust (or gravel).
Eh. He’ll get over it.
That’s the thing about running…you’re competing with yourself and what you can push yourself to do. It’s such a personal sport. Sure, there’s competitiveness amongst runners. But it comes down to personal records. At some point, as a runner, you’ve just got to know when to cut loose and race for yourself.
I hit the 2.5 mile marker and I know I’m nearing the end. Thank God. I am so tired. With each step, it’s an inner struggle with my body. My head is telling my legs “Just stop. Take it easy for a second.” And my heart is pushing me on, “Keep going. Keep moving those legs. You’re almost there.” That tug-of-war going on inside my brain was exhausting me.
Then I see them.
I see my brother, Steven, and his wife, and my dad standing at the corner, waving their huge brightly colored signs, yelling “Way to go Jules! Run, Julie, Run!” pumping their fists in the air and whoopin’ it up. It was awesome. Just what I needed – that burst of excitement to cheer me on. I suddenly felt a jolt of energy. My legs felt like I was running on air – like I was flying.
It was short-lived.
Another two minutes and the burst was gone. I felt like my pace was consistent, but it was hard. I labored with every step. Forcing my arms to pump back and forth, making my legs follow. I concentrated on my posture, keeping my shoulders relaxed and just kept thinking, “Keep moving forward. Keep moving forward.” Running is hard. I rounded the corner and could here murmurs from the other runners ahead…“Look, we’re nearing the finish.” I look ahead of them and see the brightly colored construction cones lining the path to the finish line.
This is it! I’m doing it! I’m doing it! I’m going to finish this thing strong! I try to muster up every ounce of reserve strength I have left. Suddenly, the excitement I felt was overwhelming. I start running around other runners and dodging the small children who seem to keep cutting me off. (Outta my way, kids!) I pick up my pace, lengthen my strides and just pump out every ounce of power I can. I see my trainer first. (She finished the race already…of course.) Then I see my family. They haven’t seen me yet. My trainer starts jumping up and down and I hear her yell to my husband, “She’s gonna finish in 34! She’s gonna do it in 34!” And she hops onto the course to run me in. She’s smiling huge and keeps shouting encouragement to me, “You are amazing! You are unbelievable!” I glance at the huge clock at the finish line and I cross over the mat in huge leaps and bounds. 34:09! I finished my first 5K in thirty-four minutes and nine seconds! I just hit it out of the park and blew away the goal I set for myself! I see my family. They’re cheering and screaming and hugging. It felt amazing and I was jumping all over the place. Then, everyone starts realizing that my running buddy/pacer partner is missing. “Hey…where’s Matt?” they ask.
Oops.
“I left him back there.” I kind of nod off and point behind me. “He got a cramp.”
My brother, Steve, bursts out laughing. “Ha ha! You ditched your pacer!? That’s a sign of true runner!” I sheepishly shrugged.
We watched for Matt to come in. He was just a minute or two behind me. There were cheers all around for him, too. It was an excellent, excellent day. And you know what makes it even more excellent? Calories don’t count on race day. My brother and his wife say so. And they’re real runners.
Now having a year of running under my belt…(or legs!) I am going to do this 5K again in just a few weeks and hopefully crush my previous time. Stay tuned for the next Jingle Bell Adventure! Maybe I’ll see you out there on the course! Remember: KEEP. MOVING. FORWARD!
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