(First, Nancy? You're husband was the greatest coach on Sunday. Thank you for letting me borrow him.)
So Sunday was my 5k. I've been training for it since January - actually training for it. I even managed to pull out a 3 mile run the Thursday before the race (more on that later) so I thought, "I think maybe I can do this again."
Uhm, well, erm. No.
There were hills, people. Hills.
The course went through the city, along the river, up and down some hills. Which meant I had to come back up those *insert special words* hills. I'm sure it was a pretty run, but since I was looking at the pavement the entire time I really have no idea.
Coming down the first set of hills, just after we started, I panicked in my head. My oh so steady pace must faltered because my running partner, Nick (who was a so amazing for me through this) said, "just set back into them. Nice and easy down hill." To which I replied, in a whiny voice, "But I have to come back up these hills!!"
So my inner dialogue for this race was a lot of : OMG I cannot pull this out. What was I thinking. The track I trained on was flat. Why didn't I think of that when I read the route for this? Didn't it say "great for beginners"? Aren't I a beginner? Was that a 7 year old who just passed me? I cannot believe that I am walking. This sucks. Wait. Did that 7 year old just pass me going the other way. Oh it's on."
But I had to walk one (two?) more times because of those *special* hills. Nick encouraged me so much and got me the last 1/4 mile in an ugly jog crossing the finishing line at 44:22. Poor guy never broke a sweat.
So, I didn't make my goal. I didn't run the entire race. But after I get done here I'm finding a flat race along the river front and trying again.
Now, the Plus One More part . . .
I did do 3 miles on Thursday. And it went like this:
I can't do this, Dear Lord I cannot do this. I've got a mile and a half left.
*faltering steps, shuffling jogs*
~Eye of the Tiger comes on~
That's RIGHT I am the eye of the tiger. Me.
I got this.
Jog Jog Jog
Oh, God, I can't do this. 2 miles in.
*More faltering steps, calf cramp. Tears. Ugly tears.*
How will I do this on Sunday??
~Oh Micki~ comes on
Oh Micki I'M so fine! I own this road. This is my road.
(still, all of this? OUT LOUD)
~More ugliness at 2 1/2~
*Pink's You're a Rock Star comes on*
That's right. I'm a rock star. I got my rock moves. This is my race. I own it. I trained for this.
And I pull out 3.2 miles. Tears and all.
Now the trick is to do this during an actual 5K - without the need to talk to myself or cry halfway through it. :)
Who's with me? (on a flat course. A very flat course. Also? I've found the race/races. So . . .)