Monday, March 15

My first 5K!

I ran my first 5K yesterday! in a Nor'easter! That makes me a "hardcore" runner right? I think the driving winds and rain helped my running time as I happily ran the 3.1 miles in 25:39 (that's 8:19 minute miles, folks) The idea of knowing green beer awaited me on the other end wasn't too shabby either.

In all seriousness though, this race meant a lot to me. A 5K may not seem like a lot to most runners, especially those marathoners, but for me this race was personal and symbolic. It wasn't about the miles, it was about proving something to myself. Growing up, I was never the athlete. I hated being on teams and running was something I dreaded. I would break out into a nervous sweat whenever we'd have "races" in gym class because inevitably, I was always the girl in last place. Running is not something that has ever been natural for me. It's something I'm still in the process of learning to love. But I am getting there.

As the race neared, I became more nervous, but determined. I told myself there is no way I'm backing out, nor'easter be damned. So Sunday morning, I headed out into the elements for the race. By the time I had my number on, music blaring, standing among the throngs of racers at the starting line, I thought my heart was literally going to beat out of my chest. I had visions of myself being the last kid in line again, gasping for breath and looking like an idiot. As I studied the other runners around me, in their "hardcore running outfits" as I like to refer to them, I felt like an impostor.

But once that whistle blew, I was off and the next 3.1 miles were a breeze. Well, a wet, blinding rain, Hurricane force winds breeze. I started off fast and I was worried I'd burn out, but the energy of the crowd kept me moving. I had a woman in front of me as my marker and I was determined to pass her, once I did I picked someone else to pass and just worked my way through the crowd.

Somewhere along those miles, I BECAME a runner. It didn't matter that I don't have the super cool winter running pants (which I do fully intend to have for next year) or previous races under my belt. I looked around me and realized I'm not an impostor anymore. I'm here. and I did it. Crossing the finish line, I shed the layers of negativity that have weighed me down for all those years. Too slow, not built for it, wrong breathing...none of it mattered. It was just me and the road.

and a thousand other runners. and drunken Southie residents cheering us on. but hey- you get the idea.

1 comment:

Rachel said...

I am so so proud of you--and I got a little teared up reading that! You are a runner.

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