Running Toward Myself

Big Peach Sizzler 10K - Labor Day Disappointment or Reasonable Race?

I'm going to be honest, forthright, and downright soul-bearing.....I had no business RACING this race. Considering that I've done absolutely no fast running of any real consequence in, well, probably 6-7 months, and taking into account that all of my "long" runs have been quite a bit slower than my standard and A LOT slower than race pace, the idea that I'd have any sort of personally acceptable time for this race was laughable. Did I truly think I'd turn in a PR? Absolutely not. Did I think I'd be able to live with the time I garnered? Yes.

It's hard to go into a race knowing you're not in race shape but telling yourself you'll be okay with simply putting in a hard effort and walking away with a free (neon orange!) shirt. Once you have run a race of any distance, that PR always looms over your head, setting a bar (be it high or not) that you're always going to try to jump over whether you have any business doing so or not. That number is always playing on the billboard of your brain, pushing you to run faster. Faster. FASTER.

I knew full well that I should not have been running has hard as I was, for as long as I was, for the condition I am in. I'm not out-of-shape by any means....but I am emphatically out of RACE shape. But, just like any runner who hasn't toed the line for a few months, the excitement of the day and the anticipation of racing bit me hard. I was excited to be running with the GERMinator, and I was even more excited that I knew he'd probably have a great race...maybe even a set a PR.

It was humid...not hot. Overcast with a humidity in the low 90s. I do not race well in humidity. Heck, even my hair knew it just wasn't going to be our day, so why did my brain think my body could prove it wrong? But, in that race situation, it's hard to take an account of all the reasons you CAN'T run fast on that day and turn it into a nice, slower run for a little fun (and that free shirt...don't forget the shirt).

The first mile was pretty slow as the streets were narrow and crowded. I'm sure that was a good thing considering the excitement, and with miles 2 and 3 I picked up the pace, attacked the few hills on the course, and dropped my pace to a more acceptable race pace....both miles being well under 9:00 pace. Well, my body soon reminded me of a lesson I'd learned long ago but, apparently, had forgotten in that moment: Don't Write Checks Your Body Isn't Going To Have the Funds (er, stamina) to Cash. Let's just say that, starting with mile 4, my account began to dwindle and by mile 5 I was overdrawn. In the red. Borrowing faster than I knew I could and just hoping my line of credit didn't run out for that last measly mile.

In that mile, I adopted the Galloway Method for Currently Out-Of-Shape Racers....walk a minute, run a mile. Yep. I came up with that completely by chance at the Mile 5 marker when I thought I might pass out. After a 9:45 mile. Ummmm......a 9:45 mile in a 10K is something I haven't seen in many years. If I hadn't have already been ready to pass out from the humidity and running faster than my fool-self shoulda been, I would have passed out from the shock of that mile because, I kid you not, it felt like a sub-8:00 pace. It felt like I was pushing a PR. It felt FAST. I should have been so lucky.....

I was able to keep it together for that sixth mile and even was able to dig down from I have no clue where and find a pretty respectable push to the finish line, very nearly tossing my pre-race Honey Stinger Waffle. For a final, unimpressive, 57:45. That felt like a PR but that won't go down in my race log as anything even close.

I brushed off my own disappointment and decided to go up to cheer Adam in for his final push and, to my surprise, he was rounding the corner to the finish, pushing hard to make his PR. I screamed my sweaty little head off as he came in under the hour mark, faster for his chip time, to a more than 3 minute personal best. It'f funny how quickly you can forget your own crappy race, your selfish disappointments in the moment, and get crazy happy for the one you love. And I was that. And I still am super proud of him!

The after race party also helped me forget my woes for a bit as they had pizza and Jersey Mikes subs...seriously! And lots of free...and LONG massages and even Graston therapy (which I now am highly enamored with). After getting the free grub, taking the short shuttle back to MARTA and returning to our car, I was able to just realize that it is what it is. A race. Nothing more or nothing less. An awesome morning being fit and active with my husband, a chance to change-up the scenery and explore new terrain. Not every race is a goal race (especially not one you sign-up for less than a week out) and not every race will be a PR. And that is okay.....at least until there is a goal race on my calendar. :)

See you on the road....