Be careful what you wish for

So, remember when I signed up for a 5K?  Me neither.  But, I did.

For those who forget math conversions (read:  me), a Kilometer is .62 Miles.  Which means, a 5K is (5 times .62 equals) 3.1 Miles. 

My first 5K race took place over a month ago.  It was one of those color runs – a super fun event, even for not-real-runners (read:  me).  Looking back, it was kind of funny that I was so intent preparing for it.  Of course, training is always a good idea, but, well, we didn’t run.  So, there’s that.  In the end, I was glad we did it anyway.  It’s always fun to spend time with my college roommate and her family. 

And, more importantly, drink beer with her that night.  Woot woot!

A week after that race, my roommate and I planned to run another 5K.  This was going to be serious.  We were going to RUN.  And then, 2 days before the run, I had a suspicious mole removed from an area… that is sorta used in running, but, as far as I know, has never seen the sun.  Weird. 

Doctor:  Don’t do any lunges for the next week or so, until the stitches come out.
Me:  Um, I am running a 5K on Saturday.
Her:  Yeah, no, you’re not.

Okay then.  My roommate came to town to run the race anyway.  I cheered her on from the sidelines.  She did really well, too. 

Races:  2, Me:  0

I signed up for another race.  Damit, I’m going to run a 5K this year! 

From the beginning, my goal has been to run the whole damthing.  I’ve been running once or twice regularly to build up endurance.  (In my defense, we’ve had crappy weather in this area.  Rain + humidity [who knew today would have so many math lessons?] = a runner’s nightmare.  Or, a not-real-runner’s [read:  me] nightmare.)  And, I’m the queen of excuses, so if the dew point was above 50, I was sitting inside with the air-conditioning, a fruity beverage, and a good book  having the hap hap happiest summer the kids and I have ever had.    

But, yesterday was the race, so I had to do something beforehand to not die be ready.  2 days before the race, I completed a short run, a little over 2 miles in 22 minutes.  I thought a 10-minute-mile (okay, 10-minute-mile average, you math freaks.  Play along with me.) was pretty decent.  For me, anyway.

And I went into the race, stupidly confident.  If I can run 2 miles, I can run 3.1.  Right?  My SIL always says the first 2 miles are the hardest.  Once you get those in, you can run FOREVER.

Ugh.  Did I mention I’m an idiot?  So’s my SIL (love you, SIL!).

Honestly, the first 2 miles were okay – after the first 5 minutes (they’re always the hardest for me).  Would I much rather be on my couch, watching the Real World/Road Rules Challenge marathon?  You bet.  But, I paid the money and, deep down, I really wanted to do this.  I felt strong.  I had a good playlist going on my iPod.  I was going to rock this bitch.

Then came the 2 mile sign.  Good grief, wasn’t I done yet?  And (this is where it got bad) I got all in my head.  For those who run, you know what this is.  You’re thinking about which body parts hurt.  You’re thinking about how you still have 1.1… 1.0… .995 miles to go.  You’re thinking, “Man, it’s damhot out here.”  You’re thinking, “You know, it would be so. (gasp) easy.  (gasp) to.  (gasp) stop.  (gasp) running.  and… walk.  Just for a minute.”  You're thinking, "Your kids still need a mother."  And  "(Billy) Don't be a hero."

I’m disappointed to say I gave in.  Sometimes, I am strong enough to push through.  I’ll have days where I don’t think about it at all and can just go.  I wanted a day like that.

(shaking head sadly) Yesterday was not that day.

I finished the 5K in 34:00.  Now, I realize it’s not such a bad time to have for my first real race.  And?  It was 4 minutes faster than the last time I ran (read:  ran/walked) 3.1 miles.  (This is what “real runners” call a PR!)  But, I’m disappointed anyway.  Although, a runner friend of mine said I’m a real runner now because runners are never satisfied with their times.

Woohoo!  I’m a real runner!  (Fist pump!) 

Where’s the next half marathon?!