I had planned this race because my chiropractor told me about it and that they would be at the race doing massages for the runners. I figured, why not? It’s local, not too hilly, they were giving medals to all finishers, and who doesn’t want a free massage after a 5K? If you answered, "I don't", we aren’t going to get along.
The day before, I was in bed all day with a stomach bug. I was so mad because I really wanted to do this race! And I had already paid for it. But as the day went on, I started rationalizing what would really happen if I couldn’t do it. I at least could get myself out of bed in the morning to pick up my free (kinda paid for) t-shirt. Then I figured if I could get out of bed for a t-shirt, I could at least stay and hang out for a bit and cheer on people that I know (and I suppose people I didn’t know). I debated setting my alarm for the morning and was really contemplating just skipping it when I suddenly remembered. Medals to all finishers. Problem solved. I set my alarm.
I woke up feeling much better. No stomach pains, no nausea. I was glad I didn’t have to try and endure a 5K while feeling yucky. I knew I had to eat something since all I had was soup the day before, so I went with a bland bagel with nothing on it and vanilla yogurt. I couldn’t finish the bagel and halfway to the race, I started getting stomach pains again. Excellent. I got my race number and t-shirt and went back to my car to sit and try to relax before the race.
|Look at that. The date. Ten cool points.|
Eventually I heard someone talking over a megaphone and I figured I should pay attention. I wasn’t even thinking about not doing the race at this point, because I still hadn’t forgotten about the medals to all finishers. Although, I was replaying the race route in my mind thinking, where I could possibly cut off part of the race and only do, like, a mile. Just kidding. Actually, no, I actually thought about it. But I knew I wouldn’t actually do it, so technically, still kidding. Maybe.
By race time I was feeling better, no stomach pains or nausea, so that was good. And of course there was a guy playing his bagpipes there, so that makes most things better. Or worse, depending on how you look at it.
|Yes I sure did get right next to him as he was playing.|
I did a fairly good walking warm up before the race so I didn’t have to start out walking. I was doing pretty good with my walking/running intervals and was faster per mile than I had ever been during a race, so I was feeling pretty confident that I’d be able to beat my previous time. Pretty awesome feeling, especially since they were giving medals to all finishers. It would be sweet to get a medal on a day I got a PR.
At one of the loops (the only loop) there was a volunteer cheering everyone on. She had a positive comment for every single person who passed by her and she was funny. I asked her what her name was because I knew that the second I got back to the finish line, I had to tell someone to give Maureen a raise, because she’s an amazing person. So nice, so encouraging, funny, and just amazing. But then I remembered that the race was sponsored by the Stow Conservation Trust, which is a committee, and most likely unpaid. AND, she was a volunteer. Duh. This is what running does to me. I get dumber. But she was awesome!
So, besides by blond moment, everything was great. Until I hit 1.4 miles. Sharp pains in stomach. Waves of nausea. Turning of the head, bending over the bushes. Almost puked. Almost. False alarm. Sucked down some more water to keep it all down. And kept moving.
And then I was fine. Until 2.5 miles. Same sharp pains in stomach. Same waves of nausea. Different bushes. Almost puked again. Almost. Same false alarm. OUT OF WATER. Kept moving anyway. Then it was downhill for a while. Literally. On the downhill, there was a water station and some great volunteers hooking me up with that sweet, sweet (and much needed) H2O.
After that, I was okay until the end of the race and after, when I tried to eat an orange. Best diet ever, right? Put food in, get sick, and don’t want to eat. Besides the pain, I like it!
I finally heard the bagpipes again, so I knew I was getting close to the end of the race. I saw my friends near the finish line and then I saw the clock showing a time of 48:xx. I actually got excited, because I haven’t don’t a 5K under 50...ever.
The race results have me down for a time of 49:28, but with no chip timing and me crossing the start line after the actual start, my Garmin says I finished with a time of 49:03. As I was crossing the finish line, I was yelling to my friends “Look! Under 50! Under 50!” and I almost stopped. They had to remind me to keep going and actually cross the finish line instead of looking at my time. I’m smart. Right as I finished, there were volunteers handing out the medals. Yes, even with a time of 49:03, I got a medal!
|Obviously I'm so proud of myself here.|
And wicked excited about the medal!
And I was NOT LAST. I was second to last. But NOT LAST!
I beat my previous 5K time by 2:25. That’s pretty damn good right?
After all that drama throughout the race, I looked around for my free massage.
Yeah, they weren't there. Liars.