Slow mileage

Running BLOWS. BLLLOOWWWSSSS!!! I'm a tubby bitch and I'm short. I'm like one hairy mole away from the the non-runner trifecta. I literally dislike every second of running. I've cried on a run lasting less than two miles. Yes,cried. I've been mistaken for an asthmatic... by my husband, while running. And to be honest, I'm really misusing the word "running".People who run move from point A to point B at a quick pace. Their lean legs carrying them on long strides, their feet barely touching the ground beneath them. I am neither quick nor lean. I think I'm more of a jogger. A chunky,wheezing,ground pounding, crying jogger. At best.
So why am I doing something that makes me so miserable? For one, I forgot to mention I'm dumb. Secondly, I let my "I ran a marathon" husband sign me up for the Army 10 miler in October (YES, 10 FREAKING MILES) and lastly,I'm addicted to the way I felt after running my first race. I don't run far and I don't run fast, but I don't quit. And that is quite an accomplishment.
I've always wanted to be a runner. I've envied the ladies, in their little shorty shorts and their sports bras without the back boobs, seemingly effortlessly gliding through an hour on the treadmill. Or the toned legged cuties who run 6 miles "just for fun". Pshhhhh. Whatever. I can think if 25 other things more fun than running. Maybe that's' my problem... my attitude towards running sucks. So along with my husband signing us up for the million miler or whatever it's called, I also said yes when a friend invited me to an all woman's 4k. Sure, a 4k (or just under 2.5 miles) may seem like a breeze, and if you're an avid runner, it is. A 4k is probably your "rest day" run, or what you do to "warm up". But for Tubby McSlowlegs over here, 2.5 miles is like a loooooong way. It was over twice as long as I had ever run, consecutively in like my adult life. A mile was always my goal, and I abruptly would end my run at a mile. No further. I told myself I couldn't go farther, so I never did. Until my husband decided it was time to start training. Running with " a runner" sucks. They've been where you are now,and they know you CAN do it, so they make you. When you run with a runner, there is no quitting. You can slow down, you can complain, you can even cry. But you can't quit. Running with a runner also turns your breathless one mile into 2.75 miles of " I can't believe I just did that".
So I trained for about three weeks, (even by myself a few days and I didn't cheat) progressively adding distance until I had surpassed what I needed to run for the 4k. On race day, I was totally nervous. I mean, I get it was only 2.5 miles, but I was running these 2.5 miles. Alone. And I didn't even really have a cheering squad. It got in my head a little. I glanced around at all the other "runners", with their bibs dangling from their shirts, and I realized there were a lot of regular chicks just like me there. And there were a lot of walkers, so I knew I could at least come in BEFORE most of them.
TIP* Always check out your course before you race. I did not. There were hills. Hills are stupid.
"AND GO!" is how this race started. I think. I was kinda a nervous wreck and I was so busy jacking with my running app on my phone I actually missed the start signal and just started moving with the crowd. We rounded the track and entered a trail. It was like a cattle call, not a lot of space to move, and at first I was playing it safe, not really moving passed people, and clinging to the very far right in case someone needed to get around me. Then, all of a sudden, a crazy thing happened. I was closing in on this woman wearing a tulle petticoat, and I can just assume she heard my heavy breathing behind her and she got nervous, but she tucked her skirt into her arms and said "all clear". To me. I was passing another runner. And this began the epic mind control that I used on every other runner I passed. I passed a few more people who had stopped to walk (the trail was very hilly)and thought to myself I was glad the hubs made me do some hills on the trail we trained on. ("hills are speed work in disguise", he would irritatingly say while I was dying)
I was feeling pretty good as I cleared the trail into a neighborhood. Quite a few people had started walking by this point, and the jerk inside me thought "quitter!!", although that's so far from the truth. I stayed slow and steady in my pace. Even when this lady started using me as her gauge and would walk fast until I passed her, then she would run, staying right behind me, only to walk once she passed me again. She kept this up for about 1/2 of a mile, until my slow and steady pace left her in the dust. My heavy breathing intimidated people to move out of my way as I crept up on them. I was kinda like that asshole in the fast lane that just rides your ass until you finally move over. Only I wasn't speeding, I was just going slightly faster than the people directly in front of me. And it felt awesome. I wasn't going to put this in my blog, but I like to just let my nerd flag fly, so here goes - after each person I passed, I said (to myself, not out loud) " I'm stealing your power". I know!! TOTALLY LAME, but mentally, I needed it. It manifested physically for me. It made me work just a little bit harder as I came up on someone. As I finished the last of the street and headed into the parking lot towards the trail we started in, I realized I was alone. I had just passed the last person that I could see in front of me. Hitting that trail all by myself, hearing just MY breath, MY footsteps on the dirt was so peaceful I almost got emotional. I was less than 1/2 a mile away from finishing my first race, running the entire time, by myself. And as I was nearing the end of the trail, I heard one of the volunteers yell out to me " Great job... you're at 21 minutes and change!". WHAT?!? I thought for sure I had gone past my 30 minute goal already. I picked up the pace, practically threw myself down the last hill of the coarse and tried my best to hall ass onto the track. And then my legs reminded me that slow was more my style. I could see the finish line and I just wanted to make it there before any of the people I passed up saw how slow I had gotten. I did sprint the last, oh... seven steps or so. And there, waiting for me was a silver platter full of chocolates.
TIME : 27:37 - 92 out of 195 . Not too shabby for a new runner. And God, did it feel good. Maybe that's the runners high people talk about? Until that moment, I thought it was just something runners said to encourage non-runners to punch them in the face.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank those people who helped me get that moment.
Thanks Dania Bandas, for taking my joke about running being gross to the next level and inviting me to participate. I honestly appreciate you picking THIS race as my first of many to come.
Thanks to the ladies who didn't dress all uber cool runner chick, and showed up in yoga pants, baggy t's and even jeans.
Thanks to the lady in the martini costume who was slightly ahead of my up the hilly street! Nothing more motivating than chasing a drink.
thanks to the lady who run/walk raced me. You only made me feel more confident in my pace each time you passed me. I watched you run through the finish line well after I had gulped my Gatorade, eaten my chocolate and stretched
.No hard feelings.
Thanks to my free app RunKeeper for allowing me the freedom to just run while you do the hard work like track my route, miles and time.
And of course, THANK YOU to my husband Derek. Thanks for encouraging me, pushing me (even when I cried and said I hated you)picking trails instead of the treadmill and telling me my 11:37 minute mile was really good, even though we both know it's mediocre at best. Thanks for jogging along side me at my slowest and not leaving me behind even when I know it's not a good workout for you. Thanks for always being that one person who encourages me and believes in me, ESPECIALLY when I don't believe in myself.Thanks for leaving the pepper spray in my car for me after I told you I was nervous to run the trails solo. I still think that long ass hill on day 2 was total bullshit, but I apologize for laughing when that snake freaked you out.
Thank you to myself for taking my desire to be a runner from theory to practice.