Thursday, January 28, 2010
My 1/2 Report
It came it went- and here are the gory details
2 days before. I wake up with a sore throat. Yes, I am sick. I am running sick.
Is that cramps? I am so blessed to have my ladies curse right now?
Really, universe? Oh well.
Day before- walk around Legoland all day dreaming of sleeping. Where will I find my energy?
Day of- can't sleep, so excited. Unbelievable lines for the bathrooms- I have to get in one. I am nervous- I smile for the camera (no that is not a side pony tail- that is another ladies hair behind my head). It is like a rally but everyone is athletic.....it is infectious. Can I hit my target time of under 2:45 (time predicted for my 5k pace of a 10 minute mile).
Race starts. Bands play, breeze flows, it feels great. I pass a lot of my wave and catch up with the 2:30 pacer. I get excited as I slowly pull in front of him. I feel sooo good. I go.
I run a few miles. Gotta pee, oh great.
See a small line and sweep out of the race to get in it.
Wait a few minutes..... wait a few more...there goes the 2:30 pacer past the porta-potty....
I take my squat and get back in the race, and never catch up to him.
I slosh water down, I wave at the sidelines, I want to cry for joy when I see my kids and hubby waiting to cheer and take my picture. I hit the turn around point, I shed my jacket...I run and run and run.
At mile 9 I toss my jacket to my kids and keep going. At mile 10 people start dropping. I see a girl puking. A grown man rubbing his calves, wincing in pain by the side of the road. At this point a lot of my wave starts walking. I keep running, but can tell I am slowing down.
I hit a down hill slop (thank goodness) it is mile 11.
I feel like someone is slapping the back of my legs, but keep going.
I feel good other than the leg thing...a good song comes on, I am getting blissfully emotional, I can see the last turn, and I want to cry I am so happy.
I take the turn and truck up the hill to the finish. I am so excited to grab my medal. My kids look proud as they gather around and hug and hold me.....
I did it.
After race- we walk in the nearby mall to eat. A random woman says "Hey, good job" when she sees my medal. I want to kiss her for noticing and tell her "I am not a runner! I did not run ever until 18 months ago! I did it all by myself!!!!" But I just say...."Thanks".
I go to use the restroom and fall onto the toilet. I have no strength left in my body.
Later that night- I skip on dinner to stay in bed. I have no energy to dry my hair or put on makeup. Hubby brings home dinner and chocolate cake. I feel euphoric, in spite of exhaustion.
Day after. CAN. NOT. WALK. Ouch. My legs hurt. I am suddenly proud of my 2:38 time, realizing I could not have gone faster without dying.
I moan and whine the whole drive home (10 hours). I pull myself up the stairs into bed and I am done.
Next day- I do two miles and feel good again.
Get a massage....
and I am back to normal.
Now, when can I run another one? I have to beat that lame-o time!