I ran my first 5k (3.1 miles) on Saturday =] The weather was brutal but I still beat my own goal of 33 minutes… my official time on the website says 31:49 (when I crossed the finish line it said 31:32, but that’s ok… the timer on my bib was obviously the accurate one). I could not believe it was 40 degrees and felt like 35 with huge gust of freezing winds. (it ended up hitting 70 later in the day). I will never forget how amazing that first finish line felt. (I ran track in 7th and 8th grade, hurdles… but I’ve never loved it like I do at this point in my life.)
My husband was there to photograph my finish… but, his phone kept turning off and he would have to open the camera up again and he missed me all together. LOL, but I plan on buying a photo they took of me, you can see my finish line SMILE – HERE. I’m in all grey – bib# 607.
Here are some other photos – there were over 3000 runners (pretty local group).
Before the race (sweet Kim in the middle credits me for inspiring her to run this race – love her… she’s beyond encouraging! She inspired me!!!)
Waiting to face the elements ‘indoor’… getting amped! official bib number with my name on it!!!
Waiting at the start line… (in all grey… i didn’t plan to run in my Nike CrossCountry hoodie, but it did inspire my passion to run again so, I’m glad I did!)
And the bell rings… we are off (first minute in I started asking myself what in the world I was doing there – HAHA)
Me with my runners’ high gloating in my accomplishments!!!
Ok… so that was Race number 1. My good friend Kirsten talked me into an 8k (4.97 miles) also that weekend, Sunday – this was the BIG RACE! The Big City race… the one I was really working to get a good time in… the one one that cost the most… the one that I was planning to run with my sweet friend. The Shamrock Shuffle. Her dear father passed suddenly just a week before the race and she decided not to run. She didn’t decide or certain until the night before. I ran alone, and I ran with a bizarre foot injury. With the adrenaline from my first race, I hadn’t noticed that my foot was hurting until we went to Chicago to pick up my race packet a couple hours later and I had to hustle through Navy Pier. I got back in the car and thought maybe my shoe was messed or something. All night I hobbled and worried about if I could run my BIG RACE. I was discouraged, worried I’d injure in more… I was icing and heating it… I was resting it and checking for swelling and bruising… Finally it was 6am Sunday morning and my alarm wakes me up. I immediately move my foot around. It still hurts like heck. So I start googling. No help. I have to decide. I wake up my husband. He says “lets do this”… come on. You will regret it if you don’t. So I wipe my tears and calm my nerves enough to get there. We wait in the corral for an hour and 15 minutes before the race actually starts. Now I have to pee from ‘hydrating’. and you can’t leave your corral. Well, there are potties along the way, but it will obviously cost you some time – oh well, I’d probably be walking anyway, I figured. So I will have to stop and pee at the first available porta. I’m in the last corral, by the way. When I signed up, I had no idea how well my training would go. I was keeping 11 minute miles on my long runs. So… 55 minutes for a 5 mile was my goal… only, after the concern for hurting my foot further took over my brain, I was just shooting to finish in the hour and 15 minute time limit set on the race.
The race finally starts… its 9:58. (been in my corral since 8:30, even though i could technically leave and come back until 9). We were the second wave (blue). The Red people had qualifying times to start at the front… but even in corral E, that would be a long wait with 40,000+ runners (I personally had number 44,000 and something starting next to me). Anyway… I had no idea how huge this race was. My second race, my first 8k… and it was the largest 8k in the country – LOL, wow. With a bum foot – GREAT.
The race starts. And walking is more painful than running… so I suck it up, run run run… and I even stopped to pee (took 3 minutes to wait in line fr a porta potty). I’m barely feeling any pain. THe adrenaline takes over and I’m in full stride. I’m passing people and almost crying as I realize I made the right decision to participate. I know my foot isn’t broken and even though it his hurting anytime I try to stop for water, or to walk a little (I was planning to do intervals – 1 minute walking 4 minutes running). Walking was painful though… weird. So I ran it. and I got 55:21 for my finishing time =] YES!!!!! I freaking took a piss break and still got 55 minutes? what? OH MY GOSH. I’m freaking awesome. Everyone’s faces along the way are flashing through my mind. The guy who was giving high fives and shouted “you got this sunshine”… the weird guy with the rubber glove on that was obviously a germ-a-phobe, the super tall guy with the green curly wig on that I looked up at with my music blaring in my ears as I saw him mouth he crow behind him as he ran backwards “you can do it, come on!”. Each one of them gave me that extra fuel I needed to finish strong.
Mostly though, my husband… who accompanied me. He sincerely apologized for not encouraging me in my passions throughout our marriage. He was genuinely proud of me. He was sorry for missing out on the things I love and was beyond excited to be a part as a supporter for me. He said, “from now on when people as what my wife does, I’m going to say “she runs.” he made me smile, and cry. Our entire marriage his criticism was so much louder than my passions… and FINALLY… he was 100% supportive without a complaint. Beyond grateful.
I had to tell him how hurt I was initially that he hadn’t made plans to go. As a child, i had lots of desires… lots of initiative, but my parents were unmotivated and I often had to sit on the side lines because of lack of money and mother always being depressed. I ran track in 7th and 8th grade. I was a hurdler and a distance runner – I didn’t win any 1st places, but I had a great form and lots of potential. My parents came to 1 track meet. I played basketball in 5th grade and in 9th grade, they never came to a basketball game in 5th grade and only 1 in 9th grade. I cheered in 4th grade… I cried when they missed my first game and my coach had to drive me home. I didn’t really know what it felt like to be supported… I gotta say – it was incredible. All the disappointment just melted away!
sorry I didn’t mean for that to be so long… here are the pics from the Shamrock Shuffle:
Chicago =]
me, me and me =]
I have no finishing pics here either, it was really hard to even get to the finish line for supporters =/
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