Charity: American Diabetes Association
That was miserable.
The weather has taken a sudden drunken turn to rainy and cold--one of those sudden drops that go from mid-70s to mid-40s in the past 24 hours. But that's just an opportunity to show how bad ass I am, right? Except when I'm standing in the rain and soaked through just to pick up my bib. Bleh. Even though the rain let up a little into the run, my feet were drenched so much that my toes were numb, and I'm pretty sure my socks gained at least a pound each with the water.
The route had two paths--the 5K for runners and the 3K for walkers. I could tell at the line-up that it wasn't going to go that great. There were obvious walkers* in the front of the line that had to suddenly get out of the way when the runners started. I settled into a steady pace and watched runner after runner pass me. I tried desperately not to let this throw me. But evidently I was so slow that a police officer made ME stop so that traffic could go through.
|At least I looked cute.|
Right before going up the hill.
Again, I tried to not let this throw me. I dodged, weaved, and frequently yelled, "PASSING ON THE LEFT!" to no avail. I was nonplussed by the walkers who thought they were "funny" to head back before the turn-around. I was annoyed with the water stop (only one when two were promised) that was simply an unmanned, wrapped slat of water bottles.
The Wall and the Hill ended up winning, and I ended up walking. A lot. I just never got my mojo back. I tried to make some kind of spiritual metaphor of the whole experience. I tried to remind myself that this was for my mom. My inner coach would scream, "Are you going to let this get the best of you?"
And I would answer back, "Yes."
And the GPS never started.
When the Finish came within sight, I gave a kick, sprinted through, and kept walking right on to my car to go home.
|There might have been some crying.|
I wanted to earn my Doctor Who virtual run medal with this event too. Yes, I'm counting it because sometimes we save the Universe in a million little choices rather than one giant triumph.
I refuse to let this one get too much in my head, especially with a Thanksgiving 10K next week. Running Momma warned me that these races are notoriously jacked up since there are many participants who don't "know the rules." It can't possibly be more jacked up than this one.
Every day is an opportunity to learn, regenerate, and try to do better. Like the Doctor. Or butterflies. Or me.
* Before I am accused of sounding elitist, someone pushing a regular stroller with layers and layers of coats is an obvious walker.
** I am seriously reconsidering anything with the word "fun" or "walk" in the name.