Well, I did it. I ran a 5K.
My goal was to run the entire time without stopping to walk. With my ever encouraging, supremely amazing friend Lindsey jogging happily by my side, joyfully dumbing down her run BIG TIME to stay with me and chat me up while I jaulked and gasped for air and occasionally grunted something that sounded like responses to her questions, we crossed the finish line without even a hint of a walk.
Then my shins promptly snapped in half.
Well, it felt that way at least.
I had a second goal that I didn't really mention to anyone until after the race. I really didn't want to finish last. I mean, if it was either not walk and finish last or walk and finish 2nd to last, I'd have settled for last. But, Lindsey encouraged me to step it up the last 25 or so yards and pass some people right at the end.
It felt good. You know, until I stopped and my shins began hurling obscenities at me.
In case you've missed my previous running posts, you should know that, typically, I LOATHE running. But, as Lindsey has reminded me time and time again during my training for the 5K and during the actual race itself, this is a goal that I am actually seeing come to fruition. As a Mom, often our goals are either short lived (ie. clean the kitchen, wash the laundry, repeat) or it can take years to see our goals come to pass (ie. raise respectful children, have a family who serves the Lord without hesitation). But running, well, it's a goal I can set and reach in a fairly short amount of time.
Truthfully, two weeks ago I went out for a run and ended up stopping about 1/4 of the way through. With tears streaming down my face, I came home feeling so defeated. I began thinking of ways that I could get out of the 5K and it seem like a good, valid, not-my-fault excuse. "Maybe I'll get mastitis or maybe I'll sprain my ankle!"
Seriously. I.wanted.out.
But now that I've accomplished a goal that I never even thought I'd set for myself, it feels good.
But don't think I'm going to become a die hard runner. Because let me tell you, I saw some pretty special people on Saturday. Wow. If you're an avid runner, this isn't a slam on you because, Lord have mercy, if I offend you it's not like you couldn't chase me down and hurt me. But, you know, runners are a rare breed, I believe.
I seriously saw a 60-something year old man jogging around the parking lot, pre-race to warm up. He jogged over in front of the 10 or so Port-a-Johns, jogged in place while he waited for one. Went in, did his business and then came out jogging and jogged away.
I have to wonder if he was inside jogging and peeing at the same time.
Then, there was the Chuck Norris wanna be runner. As he laid on his back in the grass, warming up by doing round-house kicks and pelvic thrusts, I almost couldn't look away. After he wind-sprinted across the parking lot 9,732 times I realized that, WOW. HE'S SERIOUS. Chuck ain't playin'.
Oh. And there was a woman in some weird shoes who wore a shirt that, apparently, she'd been previously attacked by a shark in. I'm serious. Shredded, from the breast down. SPE-SHUL.
Then, of course, there was the guy with long curly hair, tied back with a bandanna, in his tie dye shirt, jean shorts and BARE FEET who stood in front of us at the starting line. See? Specialness. Maybe he should have spoken to shark-shirt lady about her shoes.
Maybe I don't get out much anymore, or maybe I'm always the one being stared at, but I found the pre-race people watching worth the torture that my shins endured.
I mean, people. IT'S THREE MILES.
Which I mean, sure, that's Everest to me, an overweight, out of shape, stay-at-home Mom, 4 months postpartum. But for the avid runner I just had to chuckle at how serious they all were.
But I will say, those runners impressed me mucho. I mean, the guy that won ran his 5K in something like 13 minutes. I WAS BARELY THROUGH MY FIRST MILE AT 13 MINUTES. Actually, that's not true, I think 13 minutes is when I looked at Lindsey and said, "We're almost half-way, right?" and she checked her watch, chuckled and said, "Um. Not really."
And then I died inside. And maybe threw up in my mouth a little.
My goal was to run the entire time without stopping to walk. With my ever encouraging, supremely amazing friend Lindsey jogging happily by my side, joyfully dumbing down her run BIG TIME to stay with me and chat me up while I jaulked and gasped for air and occasionally grunted something that sounded like responses to her questions, we crossed the finish line without even a hint of a walk.
Then my shins promptly snapped in half.
Well, it felt that way at least.
I had a second goal that I didn't really mention to anyone until after the race. I really didn't want to finish last. I mean, if it was either not walk and finish last or walk and finish 2nd to last, I'd have settled for last. But, Lindsey encouraged me to step it up the last 25 or so yards and pass some people right at the end.
It felt good. You know, until I stopped and my shins began hurling obscenities at me.
In case you've missed my previous running posts, you should know that, typically, I LOATHE running. But, as Lindsey has reminded me time and time again during my training for the 5K and during the actual race itself, this is a goal that I am actually seeing come to fruition. As a Mom, often our goals are either short lived (ie. clean the kitchen, wash the laundry, repeat) or it can take years to see our goals come to pass (ie. raise respectful children, have a family who serves the Lord without hesitation). But running, well, it's a goal I can set and reach in a fairly short amount of time.
Truthfully, two weeks ago I went out for a run and ended up stopping about 1/4 of the way through. With tears streaming down my face, I came home feeling so defeated. I began thinking of ways that I could get out of the 5K and it seem like a good, valid, not-my-fault excuse. "Maybe I'll get mastitis or maybe I'll sprain my ankle!"
Seriously. I.wanted.out.
But now that I've accomplished a goal that I never even thought I'd set for myself, it feels good.
But don't think I'm going to become a die hard runner. Because let me tell you, I saw some pretty special people on Saturday. Wow. If you're an avid runner, this isn't a slam on you because, Lord have mercy, if I offend you it's not like you couldn't chase me down and hurt me. But, you know, runners are a rare breed, I believe.
I seriously saw a 60-something year old man jogging around the parking lot, pre-race to warm up. He jogged over in front of the 10 or so Port-a-Johns, jogged in place while he waited for one. Went in, did his business and then came out jogging and jogged away.
I have to wonder if he was inside jogging and peeing at the same time.
Then, there was the Chuck Norris wanna be runner. As he laid on his back in the grass, warming up by doing round-house kicks and pelvic thrusts, I almost couldn't look away. After he wind-sprinted across the parking lot 9,732 times I realized that, WOW. HE'S SERIOUS. Chuck ain't playin'.
Oh. And there was a woman in some weird shoes who wore a shirt that, apparently, she'd been previously attacked by a shark in. I'm serious. Shredded, from the breast down. SPE-SHUL.
Then, of course, there was the guy with long curly hair, tied back with a bandanna, in his tie dye shirt, jean shorts and BARE FEET who stood in front of us at the starting line. See? Specialness. Maybe he should have spoken to shark-shirt lady about her shoes.
Maybe I don't get out much anymore, or maybe I'm always the one being stared at, but I found the pre-race people watching worth the torture that my shins endured.
I mean, people. IT'S THREE MILES.
Which I mean, sure, that's Everest to me, an overweight, out of shape, stay-at-home Mom, 4 months postpartum. But for the avid runner I just had to chuckle at how serious they all were.
But I will say, those runners impressed me mucho. I mean, the guy that won ran his 5K in something like 13 minutes. I WAS BARELY THROUGH MY FIRST MILE AT 13 MINUTES. Actually, that's not true, I think 13 minutes is when I looked at Lindsey and said, "We're almost half-way, right?" and she checked her watch, chuckled and said, "Um. Not really."
And then I died inside. And maybe threw up in my mouth a little.
