I ran this weekend for the first time since Halloween, wanting to see if the sprained ligament in my ankle was going to hold up. As I trotted down the street, I realized that I never wrote about my second big race, and considering it was what motivated me to start running in the first place, I thought that it was worth mentioning.
It was on Halloween, and everyone was encouraged to dress up. I was surprised how many people took it seriously, dressed up as Superman, Rainbow Brite, Hagar the Horrible (complete with ax), an iPod…just to name a few. With the drizzly, foggy weather and the crazy costumes, it almost seemed surreal.
I am really glad that I snuck in a race before this one, because at least I knew a little more what to expect. I was still a little nervous, my fingers shaking as I pinned on my number and figured out how to attach the chip to my shoelaces.
Then, we were off, and even though I felt like I was running my normal pace, when we passed the one mile marker, the volunteer called out…8:54!
My head snapped around to see if he was joking, but it was the real deal. I had never run a mile in less than 10 minutes…ever…so I was pretty surprised. When I got to the two mile marker in 18:54, I knew I was in trouble. But I told myself that even if I ran the last stretch in 12 minutes, I would still beat my time from the last race.
I plodded on. I kept hearing my friend Amanda’s voice in my head, saying that it’s okay to walk, but I knew that if I stopped, I had serious doubts about my ability to start again.
Finally…the finish line. I made it across in 29:40, which was shocking…I beat my time by a minute and a half! I was tired, wet, and cold, so I grabbed my snack and headed home to take a nice hot shower.
Mission accomplished.
I feel like I have come such a long way from when I struggled with running three minute intervals. It’s actually an enjoyable break now, instead of a painful, icky experience. Plus, no one has asked me if I need a ride lately, so I must look a little more legit…
I’m a runner, I tell myself incredulously, as I headed up the driveway, done with my short run. My ankle made it, and I got through half a Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me episode…success.
Next year’s races…here I come…
— Post From My iPhone
