Run . . . They’re Right Behind You!!

The day dawned cool and clear – temperature 38 degrees.  A beautiful late Fall Saturday.  We climbed into the truck and headed down to the city and made it to the designated location in record time.  I took a deep breath of crisp morning air and I could smell the excitement . . . or was that fear.  The “race” was here!  It was the day I was going to be able to tell if my months of 3-mile training runs would pay off, or if I would wind up as a bedraggled carcass somewhere along the race route.

It’s hard for me to believe, but sometimes fear does outweigh the excitement of the big event.  I mean, let’s face it, I’m not running to win this thing.  Those days are long gone and in fact never really were.  Yet, fear creeps in and all the “what ifs” run through my mind.  What if it’s raining?  What if it’s too hot?  What if it’s too cold? What if I have to pee mid race (or worse yet . . . the other one)?  What if I get a side stitch three minutes in?  What if a runner in front of me trips and we cause a domino effect through the course?  What if I wind up a bedraggled carcass somewhere along the race route?  The list goes on and on.

And, these fears rise exponentially depending on the length of the race.  If it’s a 5K, I think, sure, something could happen but it is only three miles, I’ll make it through.  If it is a 10 miler or a half marathon, I am on full blown red alert searching my circumstances for any sign of trouble.  Weather, breakfast, wardrobe, music, bathroom trips all get analyzed, projected, and planned and I don’t stop the mental panic until I hit the last race mile.  Only then do I know I will make it.

On this November day though, the fear was in the background.  I was with my good friends Lisa and David.  It was the Rothman 8K, held in beautiful Philadelphia, PA.  The temperature was perfect, the crowd was festive, and I would only have to run for an hour and not 2 ½.  What more could you want out of a race?

Tunes are so important

Pre-race Pic

Philly in the Sun

All in all . . . it was a great race.  My running partner Lisa and I planned to finish in about 60 minutes, but were able to pull off 10.35 minute miles coming in at about 53 minutes!  David did even better, running at an under 10 minute/mile pace!  We all got medals and got to slap Mayor Nutter’s gloved-hand.

Before Race

After . . . no one said it was pretty

Jeeves (aka my darling husband Jimmy), picked us up at the end of the race and we headed to breakfast at Cracker Barrel.  Ahh . . . this is why I run . . . French toast and bacon.