(A grateful shout out to my friend, Jerome, who threw out an invitation weeks and weeks ago to me to do this and then sent another inquiry earlier this week. I definitely would not have made this a priority if not for him, so thank you, Jerome, for the nudges!)
The race was quite small (not sure of the total number of runners but under 50, certainly. It started at a park that has a fantastic playground so Gabe was super happy to be heading there. I was really worried when it was time to hit the port-a-potty and starting line because I was sure he would protest LOUDLY. He didn't, blessedly, and instead ran adorably (and to great cheers from the assembled) ahead of the stroller to the starting line... and then beyond the starting line... and beyond the gate that blocks vehicles from coming in... and toward the main road. ZOINKS! He was really in the zone and loving the attention so in his 2-year-old brain, the way to keep the gravy train of adoration was to keep going. I am still, for now, faster than he is so he was not in any danger, but it was just another reminder that he is, at his core, still, like, two!
The race itself was mostly uneventful. I ran with Jerome for a big chunk of it. He was very kind and offered to push the stroller when the hills were insane. I - no shock - was super stubborn and consider the stroller push an integral part of maintaining the Bad Ass Mother Runner Mode, so I said no thanks. The worst hill, really, is the first one, and once you get over it (maybe .5 or.75 miles in?) you get a lovely, easy slope downhill. It truly makes you feel like you can fly after the battle getting up. The trouble with that, of course, is that you forget about the downhill you enjoyed and then you are going BACK and you are super tired and ready to just sit down and enjoy a nice Gin & Tonic (it was a very sunny morning and a G & T would have hit the spot nicely, I think, even though it was all of 9:30 AM....) Anyway, that gentle, long sloping downhill, becomes a never ending SLOG at the end of the race and, for me, it was ENDLESS.
I had the pleasure of a little company at that point (Jerome and I were not running together by then). A guy who had run the 5K with his 8-year-old daughter (she ROCKED it, by the way!) ran the 5K course again and was at the 5K turn around point when I got there. This was the thick of the infinite mountain back up so it was great to have someone to chat at me. I was not exactly going all out (I kept telling myself "this is a RUN, not a RACE") but I was pushing pretty hard, feeling pretty respectable in my effort. Then, as he was talking to me and matching my pace, I noticed his stride. He looked like he was standing still. Okay, not exactly, but he looked like a very fit person almost running in place to encourage a very un-fit person. It was the strangest damn thing! I was running really fast and he was barely jogging... yet we were going to the same speed. How is that possible?! Thankfully, I found this rather amusing as opposed to frustrating. It's ALLLLL relative.
So, I finished. I don't know my official time. I don't know my official place. I don't know my pace. The numbers I DO know are Gabe's: 3 (number of clementines); 1 (number of juice boxes); 4 (number of dum-dums). At some point I'm sure the organizers will post other data to their website and I'll know. I didn't stop my Stava app for almost a minute after I was done, but when I did it said 1:01:28. It also said I ran 6.6 miles (OH, if only I lived in a Strava world where my pace and distances were so speedy and long!) BUT, I know for sure that it was a PR... cuz even though I've done plenty of races of various distances, I've never actually done a 10K. So, huzzah to that!
Post-race I got to see some friends for breakfast and Gabe, who was super tired, was actually mostly charming in the restaurant. The race gods were smiling on us!
Today I got to get in a 2-hour run with the world's greatest running buddy, Lauren. We did not listen to any GPS devices. We did not worry about pace or mileage. We just decided to meet at 5:30 and run until 7:30. I haven't seen her and months and months (she had the nerve to move back to Vermont last summer...) so it was a perfect chance to get caught up on kids and jobs and families and race goals and on and on. (Of course, now that I write this I can think of at least 50 more things I wanted to ask her about...) I did have my app going on my phone and was surprised (and annoyed, frankly) that we only went about 12 miles. It felt faster (and harder!) than that. But, we did plenty of hills and obviously the real point of the run was to just be together. Mission accomplished.
Finally, after a loooonnnggggg wait for them, I did eventually get my 110% Compression Pants. The delivery was a nightmare but the customer service was off the charts amazing. They even sent me a hat and head gear (it's like a headband or kerchief or hat or neck warmer or... ANYTHING... depending on how you maneuver it) as a little 'sorry it was so hard to get your pants' gift. I highly recommend the company and suggest that if you are at all interested in recovery gear, you go with them. Yes, it's super expensive, but if you use it once a week, it will quickly become a no-brainer economy-wise. Plus.... no more ice baths!
|Is that ice in your compression pants.... or is your fat just really rectangular?|