ohhh Math, you've failed me yet again. I knew there was a reason I hated you back in Middle School.
I finished my first 10k today...only 5 months after doing my first Half Marathon. (apparently I enjoy doing race distances out of order. woops)
Whenever I run, I have a secret goal for my time that I don't tell anyone just in case I don't make it. Out loud, I told people I'd be happy with any time under 54 minutes, but secretly I wanted to come in under 50 minutes. To do this, I needed to make sure I kept my pace under 8:30min/miles the entire time and then sprint it out towards the end if needed.
I started the final lap with roughly 15 minutes and 1.75 miles left before my secret time struck and doing a quick calculation, I knew I'd be okay with the pace I was going. However, as I rounded the corner into the last stretch and I saw the finish line in sight, I looked down at my watch and realized I was at 49:36 already and there was no way I could make it there in 24 seconds. And then it dawned on me. Duh. A 5k is 3.1 miles. Then, by using the basic qualities of 3rd grade arithmetics and adding 5k + 5k = 10k, I realized...I was running 6.2 miles, not an even 6 like I had calculated for. Final time? 50 minutes 40 seconds. Grrrrrrrr.
Official stats from the race won't be up until tomorrow, but according to my watch these were my details:
Distance: 6.22 miles (damn you .22 mile. damn you and your sneaky ways)
Average Pace: 8:08 min/mile
Average Speed: 7.4 mph
Calories burned: 744 (by far the best part about running. and if you tell me the best part is "the feeling you get" you are straight up lying. Don't get me wrong, I love the mental game behind running but the best part of a race? the best part is being able to make up for all those lost calories the rest of the day)
All whining aside, I'm really glad I ran this race. There is nothing quite like the feeling of lining up at the start, your heart is racing, stomach full of butterflies. The excitement and energy in the air is palpable. Wait, did I say excitement? I think I meant pure nerves.
I promise I was excited on the INSIDE. On the outside, it's all game face, baby. Gotta scare my competitors. Is it working? Scared yet?
The rush of adrenaline and feeling I have when I finish a race is really why I do it, though. Call it what you will, competitive spirit, pride, etc. but I enjoy passing people and beating them. a lot. especially when it's a boy. maybe I enjoy it a bit too much? ehhh no, I don't think so.
Whenever I am running, I can't help but think about high school me. The one who couldn't run a mile and quit all of her weekend hobbies as a child because "I needed a day to sleep in". I was ALWAYS the slowest in gym class. There was a time when I'd be so ashamed of how red-faced and out of breath I'd be from trying to run, that I'd just stop trying. Nowadays, I own my red face and shortness of breath. It's my badge of courage and honor. It reminds me that I've pushed myself and accomplished something, whether it's an officially timed race or just a run around the block. I've come so far and I can't help but be proud of myself for that. So, please pardon me for a minute as I toot my own horn. * toot * toot *
I was especially reminded of this feeling as I was getting ready for the race this morning. at 6 am. on a Saturday.
I jumped onto to Twitter and Facebook while I ate my breakfast (Why? Why am I so addicted?!) and realized it was only 1 am back in the States. I couldn't help but laugh. My friends back home were most likely either still out at the bar or somewhere eating late night drunk food. (2 am trips to Cafe Pompeii! I missss youuuuuuu!)
So instead, I chugged my water as a sign of camaraderie. (Side note: I originally spelled it as comradery. I was WAY off. Don't say I never taught ya anything)
The perk of an early morning race though? It's only 2:45 here and I've already showered, straightened my hair, eaten lunch and taken a nap. and if you promise not tell anyone, I'll let you in on a little secret....
I'm drinking a Stella while I write this blog post.