For those of you who are new to my blog and missed out on my previous post regarding this, please click the link below to get up to speed before reading further . . .
Pardon Me, I Think My Brain Just Farted
So, Sunday September 9th was the big day - the moment I had been training (hahahaha) for. Surrounded by my trainer, bootcamp buddies, cousins, and about 900 other people I didn't know, I lined up in the middle of the start chute and wondered what exactly I was thinking when I set out to give this 'gift' to myself.
The race started - and soon I was beingnot so gently persuaded to move in different directions in order to let the throngs of actual runners behind me pass. Frankly, I wasn't in a hurry - it's not like that bottle of gin I had waiting for me at the finish line was going to go anywhere.
About 1 km in, I felt like I was getting into a groove. "I can do this", I thought to myself as I ran beside the little old lady that probably had great grandchildren. She was inspiring - imagine, being that old and running in a 10k race? At 1.5 km I had a change of heart when sweet little grandma took off in a burst of speed and was never to be seen again. Seriously, some people are such show offs.
Not willing to give up, I kept plodding away wondering if a water station was ever going to be in sight. In all honesty, I wasn't very thirsty - I just wanted an excuse to stop for a few minutes and not feel guilty about it.
As I ran, I became aware of someone running behind me - someone with very heavy feet apparently because all I heard was clomp! clomp! clomp! It was super annoying, so I tried to pick up my pace a bit in an effort to maintain what little sanity I had left. Yes! Soon the water station was in sight. I slowed to a walk as I approached, only to hear clomp! clomp! clomp! behind me. Sonofa! I grabbed the water and kept going as fast as I could - so much for taking a break!
At about the time the race left the streets and moved onto the trails, my stomach decided that the food I had eaten the night before wasn't appropriate and tried to launch a full on revolt. Given that I had passed the port-a-potty a kilometer earlier, and my desire to not s*#% in the woods, I gave it a stern talking too and told it to suck it up. Surprisingly, it listened - and soon I was feeling good again.
7 km, 8 km, 9 km - only 1000 meters until the Finish Line! "I'm almost there", I shouted excitedly (inside my head of course), as I ran across the swaying bridge.
Suddenly, my insides twisted. I started to sweat. I prayed that this wasn't happening. I felt like the chick in Bridesmaids, running across the road, trying not to s(&* herself. I slowed to a walk, clenching like I had never clenched before.
I came around a corner, and there was a perky volunteer who I swear had been paid by my trainer yelling "C'mon - you only have a bit left - run! run! run!". I briefly considered leaving a little present in the middle of the road as a reward for her enthusiasm but decided against it. Besides, clomp! clomp! clomp! was coming up from behind fast - and there was no way Ms. Heavy Foot was going to beat me to the finish line.
So I started walking super fast running. Faster and faster, around the corner - and there in front of me, the big FINISH LINE banner, waving in the breeze. I did it! I did it! I did it . . . and I started hyperventilating because I was trying so hard not to cry. Yes, I was quite the sight stumbling across that line - butt cheeks clenched tighter than tight and taking a thousand breaths per minute. Somehow, none of that mattered - because I had finished. Finally.
The next day, I announced my retirement. Running is not my thing. I'm more of a sit on the sidelines and drink a gin & tonic while other people run kind of girl.
Unless of course, I'm being chased by Zombie's. Through an obstacle course. I'm going to have to briefly come out of retirement for that one. Anyone care to join me?
So, Sunday September 9th was the big day - the moment I had been training (hahahaha) for. Surrounded by my trainer, bootcamp buddies, cousins, and about 900 other people I didn't know, I lined up in the middle of the start chute and wondered what exactly I was thinking when I set out to give this 'gift' to myself.
The race started - and soon I was being
About 1 km in, I felt like I was getting into a groove. "I can do this", I thought to myself as I ran beside the little old lady that probably had great grandchildren. She was inspiring - imagine, being that old and running in a 10k race? At 1.5 km I had a change of heart when sweet little grandma took off in a burst of speed and was never to be seen again. Seriously, some people are such show offs.
Not willing to give up, I kept plodding away wondering if a water station was ever going to be in sight. In all honesty, I wasn't very thirsty - I just wanted an excuse to stop for a few minutes and not feel guilty about it.
As I ran, I became aware of someone running behind me - someone with very heavy feet apparently because all I heard was clomp! clomp! clomp! It was super annoying, so I tried to pick up my pace a bit in an effort to maintain what little sanity I had left. Yes! Soon the water station was in sight. I slowed to a walk as I approached, only to hear clomp! clomp! clomp! behind me. Sonofa! I grabbed the water and kept going as fast as I could - so much for taking a break!
At about the time the race left the streets and moved onto the trails, my stomach decided that the food I had eaten the night before wasn't appropriate and tried to launch a full on revolt. Given that I had passed the port-a-potty a kilometer earlier, and my desire to not s*#% in the woods, I gave it a stern talking too and told it to suck it up. Surprisingly, it listened - and soon I was feeling good again.
7 km, 8 km, 9 km - only 1000 meters until the Finish Line! "I'm almost there", I shouted excitedly (inside my head of course), as I ran across the swaying bridge.
Suddenly, my insides twisted. I started to sweat. I prayed that this wasn't happening. I felt like the chick in Bridesmaids, running across the road, trying not to s(&* herself. I slowed to a walk, clenching like I had never clenched before.
I came around a corner, and there was a perky volunteer who I swear had been paid by my trainer yelling "C'mon - you only have a bit left - run! run! run!". I briefly considered leaving a little present in the middle of the road as a reward for her enthusiasm but decided against it. Besides, clomp! clomp! clomp! was coming up from behind fast - and there was no way Ms. Heavy Foot was going to beat me to the finish line.
The next day, I announced my retirement. Running is not my thing. I'm more of a sit on the sidelines and drink a gin & tonic while other people run kind of girl.
Unless of course, I'm being chased by Zombie's. Through an obstacle course. I'm going to have to briefly come out of retirement for that one. Anyone care to join me?
I`m in sista! I ran a half about 7 yrs. ago and had just found out I was pregnant and was really, really nervous I was going to kill my baby... one lady that I trained with that I really disliked tried to pass me near the end and I was like ``not today bitch`and rocketed my way across the finish line... Babies made me retire but I might give it a go again one day... P.S. - you are hilarious! Kelly T.
ReplyDeleteHaha Kelly - those thoughts were totally in my head as I heard the heavy footer come up behind me - funny what will motivate us to run, hey? Good for you to do a half - I could barely make the 10 let alone double that. If you decide to do another, let me know - I'll bring my to go mug and wait for you at the finish line :) See you at the Zombie Run?
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