I never imagined I would ever be a
runner.
I know it is one of the best and quickest ways of getting in shape, but I didn't want to do it - my knees hurt, it was hot, it was boring, I didn't like it and a million other excuses. But we had to cut our gym membership (and many other "necessities" like our house cleaner
gasp) out of our budget so that we can survive that much longer as Chris builds his business and my days of paying $80/month and
planning to go the gym (but rarely ever getting there) are over.
What am I going to do without my gym membership? I whined to Chris.
You could finally start running? said the seasoned runner and convert since before Athena was born. I'm still hanging on to 20 pounds from my pregnancy with Jack, and they are not going to go away by themselves, so I finally said okay.
The day after I agreed to start a running program, Chris signed me up for a 5k, printed a training plan and put it on the refrigerator. The race was weeks away, but I would start with run/walks that gradually increased the amount of running time. The first run/walk had two minutes of run time. I didn't think I could run the whole two minutes. I ran down the dirt road into the carrot farm at the edge of our neighborhood for one minute and ran back, gasping and huffing and puffing the last few seconds.
But its amazing how quickly your body can adapt. Days and weeks passed and my runs incrementally increased. I even started to kind of like it. There is a simplicity to running. All you need is your shoes and the workout begins the minute the sun hits your face as you open your front door. No need to pack and prepare and schedule and loose hours out of your day. It's quick and efficient and I like that.
Still running an entire 5k seemed like an impossible task and all too quickly the day came for my race. I had only run a whole three miles once so far in my training program, and 5k is 3.1 miles. On the day of the race, I woke up before the kids, got dressed, fueled with coffee, banana and granola bar and went on my way. The kids weren't even up yet, but Chris would get them up and meet me at the park. I didn't want to be late, I left early.
Chris gave me the lowdown on appropriate race conduct and some final coaching.
Don't put the race tee shirt on, that's a rookie mistake. Sign in get your swag and take it back to the car. Tie your car key to your shoelaces. Stay in the back of the pack. Don't run too fast to start.
It was exciting at the park, lots of runners (250?) with their various running gear and dogs - a canine run to support a local no-kill dog shelter. Next year, I may bring Tess. But not this year, I'm too green and she runs too fast for me. At race time, I got in the back of the pack, there was a countdown and we were off. My first observation is that I run slow, really, really slow. Even at the back of the pack, everyone was passing me. A family with two beautiful long haired huskies. A mom with her five year old daughter. An elderly couple. A passel of chatty Kathys - some Moms group I assumed - who looked as new to this as me.
Slow and steady, I said to myself and let them pass. It was weird being used to running alone and then matching your pace against others. Did I mention how slow I was?
The race took us along a dirt path through the park and then up to the bike path that winds its way around Bakersfield.
Watch the bikers, someone to my left told me,
they will yell at you if your don't stay on your side. We trotted about a half a mile down the bike path, and I noticed some people had already started walking and I was passing
them, first the Mom and her daughter (five year olds have no stamina), then the chatty Kathys, and finally the elderly couple. I kept running, my goal was not to run fast, just to not stop running. I start passing people right and left. Many were moving much slower because the bike path pavement was too hot for their puppies' paws so they were forced to run in the dirt on the side shoulder. I passed them all.
With the halfway point in my sight I passed my first really fit guy, he was huffing and puffing but still running, just running even slower than me. I felt really good about that pass. Then I heard footsteps behind me and some yoga princess breezed past me only to stop fifty paces ahead and start walking. Still running, I just about caught up to her and she began to run again as I was just a few steps behind.
Oh no she didn't...it is on.
I chased her down the bike path, but she ran faster than me and easily put distance between us. At the halfway mark and turn around point, she stopped for water. Maybe if I don't stop I can catch up? Oh but the water looked too good. I stopped to drink my Dixie cup of cool H2O and immediately regretted it. Its hard to rev up again after you stop. The yoga princess was way ahead of me now but I entertained myself with counting the people who were behind me as I was now going back the way I came. Turning back and going the opposite direction was much harder. It was very hot with the sun directly on my face making my flushed red cheeks even warmer.
I got to a count 55 people behind me, and then saw a crowd of runners stopped up ahead. One of the long haired Huskies had collapsed and everyone was stopping to offer any water they may have or help. I see the yoga princess is among them, aha now is my chance, I pass them all. My heart went out for the sweet puppy as I did...he
was breathing, just extraordinarily hot, I'm sure he will be fine after a rest.
At this point in the race I really wanted to rest too. I see an underpass a little ways away and remember that this was at the start of the turn onto the bike path. I knew that once I got passed the underpass and back into the park there would shade, blessed shade. If only I could make it to the underpass. I did and then saw...another underpass. I slowed to a walk defeated, I had forgotten there were two.
Catching my breath, I tried to talk down the negative voice in my head that uses words like "can't" and "give up" and "no more." See, for me, the hardest part about running is not the capacity of my body or my lungs and heart, it's my mind telling me I can't do it or to just stop. I have to turn off my mind. I knew that once I got passed the second underpass it was just a short run through the park and back to the starting line. I could do that I knew I could. I found my favorite running song "Holiday" by Green Day on my MP3, and my feet start to pound the pavement to the beat, back to running. (
"Can I get another Amen! Amen!")
Once passed the second underpass and into the park, I see the flags of the finish line! The return route back wouldn't take us back through the park after all. This was it, I was finished, much sooner than I thought! The dirt road led to the park's clearing and I saw four recognizable figures in the distance. Three of them were very small and jumping up and down at the sight of me, shouting "
Go Mommy!!!!" I got all teary, and started to weep behind my sports glasses, overwhelmed for just a minute.
Chris took the worst picture of me ever and immediately posted it on Facebook, where everyone and their mother has liked it. Zoe tried to run the last few paces with me and I would have loved to have my final race shot holding her little hand, but my little fashionista had worn clunky boots on this dress yourself Daddy day and could not keep up. I ran through the finish line alone, handed over my bib number, grabbed a very, very cold water and stopped running.
And that's the best thing about running...when you finally stop. Wow, it was over and it was awesome. I did it...only walking a few paces, and it wasn't that bad at all. I think I might even do it again.
I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies
This is the dawning of the rest of our lives
This is our lives on holiday !
