This weekend was the 10k. For those non-runners out there, that is 6.2 miles. My goal was to run this in 65 minutes. Throughout the week it felt like there were many things "keeping" me from reaching this goal.
This past week was what I would describe as the perfect storm. 3 out of the 4 programs that I work on had major projects due on Friday. I am technically only allowed to work on these projects on 4 days of the work week. Confused? No need... just know that I had more to do this week than Ryan Seacrest and Donald Trump put together. Scratch that... bad reference. I just had a lot to do. Enough that everyday I was at work by 7:30 and ending my day around 8-8:30. I was exhausted. This made for bad sleeping, bad work outs and poor eating choices.
Pizza isn't proper fuel? Could have fooled me this past week. 65 minutes was becoming less and less likely.
As I planned and packed for this upcoming weekend I just kept praying over the race. In church right now we are talking about not putting God in a box. Let's just say, if there is one thing I need to do more with my running it is to understand that my training can only take my buddah belly as far as... probably 4 miles, then the rest is God.
So the crazy crazy week finally came to an end as I plopped my tush in my sister's car and we zoomed off to Richmond. We went to the expo which was a TON of fun! There were a bunch of great vendors there. Everything from Nip Guards (not kidding) to free Powerade.
The tee shirts were phenomenal. There were several I enjoyed:
1. Toe nails are for sissies
2. Will run for beer
3. If you find me on the ground please drag to the finish line
5. In my dreams, I am Kenyan
6. Running won't kill you, you'll pass out first
7. You don't have to go fast, you just have to go
8.This seemed like a good idea 3 months ago
9. I am only doing this for a picture on facebook
10. Does this shirt make my butt look fast?
...and the one I bought... "If it weren't for me, you would have nobody to pass". A little self deprivation on a shirt. My kind of gig. :)
All in all it was great. We even ran into Lauren's room mate from college who we were planning on starting the race with. It was great! She even told me she read my blog and thought it was funny!! I won't lie, I think my face got just about as red as the Powerade I was drinking.
After the expo we went to dinner with Ali, Van, Katie, her husband Dan, (who I still think could have taken down the five pound calzone challenge easily). We proceeded to gorged ourselves on pasta, calzones and everything Italian. Needless to say, this was not as wise of a choice as it could have been. At least I refused the ice cream at the end of the night. A good idea seeing as I have suddenly met my worst fear. Lactose intolerance.
I would not call it intolerance. I would say it is more like a lactose disapproval.
After the long night of finger swelling/finger licking good food, we went home and eventually went to bed. I slept like a baby. Like a giant chubby baby with a big crawl the next day. I woke up in the same position I had gone to bed in. Never a good sign.
We ate some breakfast, kindly provided by the Whites, and went on our way. We were dropped off one block from the indoor bathroom facility and the start line. What could be better on race day but walking as little as possible? Let's not make it annnny harder on ourselves. 65 minutes was going to be hard enough as it was.
So finally the race started and we were off! Well Lauren was. I felt like I was sucking on a lead pipe. Oh did I forget to mention that it was 30 DEGREES???? It was not a fun feeling.
Lauren acted as my pace car and she kept in front of me yelling out directions. "Breathe!" "Run!" and my favorite "No! Stop trying to sit down!"
Lauren was my saving grace. I wanted to hurt her on several occasions only because she was so chipper and nice, encouraging and wonderful. Gross.
I was just not having it. I was waiting to break through my mental wall, but instead I just sat onto of the wall. Juuuuuuust sat there swinging my cankles over the edge. Grrrrr...
Finally we got to mile 5 and I turned to Lauren and said "I am not doing the 10 miler". To me, its a feeling similar to when you are watching a scary movie. You wonder why you are doing this to yourself and are trying desperately to remember to remind yourself NEVER to do this again. I guess Lauren knew I was having some issues so she wisely shelved the issue by saying "we'll talk about that later".
Again, mile 5 proved to be tough because that was when I realized that I was going to walk. I had had it, and my legs had had it, and my lungs, well if they were there, they had had it too. 65 minutes was not going to happen and I had resigned myself to it.
All I remember was starting to walk and my legs trying to continue running, making for a strange kick step that lasted for a good 5 seconds. Soon, becuase Lauren could no longer hear my heavy labored breathing or cursing, she turned around to find me, only to see me walking. Another gem I won't soon forget is her yelling at me; "30 seconds!!!!!" She swears she said nicely. I liken the sound more to a banshee or a ring wraith. You say potato...
As we neared the six mile mark (and the angels sang) Lauren alerted me to the fact that we could see the finish line, but if we were going to hit our goal of 65 minutes we needed to pick it up. Sure enough I could see the banner in the tree line marking the finish line. I looked down at my feet to be sure that they were still in fact feet, and had not turned to 70/30 ground chuck. When I looked back up I could not see the finish line. It was no where to be found. No mark, no sign of the end. "I DON'T SEE IT!!!!" I was distraught. I had a glimpse and now I was unsure I was even as close as I had once thought.
Finally when we did cross the finish line. And no, no one had moved it as I may or may not have previously thought.
I was ecstatic. Until Lauren let me know that we had come in at 66 minutes.
I guess that's what you get when you walk, I thought to myself. I guess a silly race does not matter really, and at least I finished, right?
When the official race results came out I was a little shocked by the time.
65 minutes to the second.
God is calling me to take him out of that box. How about you? :)