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I did it, you guys. FOR REAL I ran my first 5k last Sunday, without stopping or walking at any point in the race. I jogged the entire way.
Just as expected, I got passed by 12-year olds and 50-year olds at the very beginning. I hadn’t even made it through the finish line when everybody streamed past me. But then, just over the bridge, I started passing the people who were already walking. My pace never changed.
Around another corner, up and over another bridge, I started looking for our turn. Hubby and I had walked the course with the kids a few weeks ago, to lots of “I’m tired!” and “I’m thirsty!” and “Aren’t we finished yet?” with our responses of “Too bad, so sad.” and “Isn’t this a beautiful day and aren’t we having so much fun!”
As our turn neared the racers in front of me kept going straight. As we all passed our turn, I looked and saw that the road was blocked off. I turned to my left and my right, searching for another participant who might also be nervous about this change in course.
But nobody seemed to notice. Finally another woman asked to nobody in particular, “Weren’t we supposed to turn back there?”
“Yes!” I hollered, excited to have somebody else in my What-Is-Going-On? group. As we neared a race official I jogged up to her and asked if we 5k-ers were on the right course. “Yep! Keep going!” She simultaneously ignored my question and kept smiling.
But it was apparent we were on the wrong course. We were on the course for the half-marathoners and full-marathoners. A girl next to me, who’d been keeping track of our half-conversations, pointed to the mile marker with a big ol’ 16 on it. “Look how far we’ve already come!“ she joked. I pumped my fists in the air. “I’ve never made it to mile 16 before!”
At this point in the race, as I learned later, Hubby was very frustrated. He wanted to concentrate on his breathing and his pace in order to finish with a good time. I didn’t care too much. My biggest concern was that they’d have us run 3.1 miles but then make us walk 5 or 6 miles back to the start, where my parents and kids were. Other than that I was stoked that I was STILL RUNNING.
After I’d somewhat given in to the fact that I wouldn’t be running on the course previously planned, I really REALLY enjoyed myself. It was a gorgeously overcast morning (no need for sunglasses), cool temps (the heat didn’t slow me down) and the first line of an e.e. cummings poem kept running through my head: “thank You God for most this amazing day.” Feeling my lungs inhale and exhale, feeling my legs run strong, running alongside others I didn’t know but who were all enjoying themselves, I felt closer to our Creator and so thankful for this body that grows and changes and can be pushed to new things. I was high on life.
Finally the race officials started turning us around. None of us at the same point, but pretty soon everybody on my side of the course looped around to head back to the finish. I kept going, though, hoping to see Hubby and run with him for a bit. I never saw him and eventually turned back and ran on my own.
At the bottom of the last bridge a race official was cheering us on with a, “You’re almost there!” I pumped my fists in the air for the second time in that short race and yelled, “Woohoo!” Then he gave me a high-five. See? Running is FUN.
As I neared the finish line I looked for my kids but didn’t see them. I saw my sister and my husband, though, and made a good time for me. After we got home and mapped my personal route online, I figured out that I ran further AND in a shorter amount of time than I’d done before.
Now I’ve got the bug. I really like running in races. Running on the treadmill, not so much. But outside with the crowds and the bands, SUPER FUN. This may be the start of something.
Erin Fox is a weekly columnist for the Augusta Gazette and a busy mother and wife. Her popular blog - erin’s little corner of the world - is at http://erinslittlecorner.com.
I did it, you guys. FOR REAL I ran my first 5k last Sunday, without stopping or walking at any point in the race. I jogged the entire way.
Just as expected, I got passed by 12-year olds and 50-year olds at the very beginning. I hadn’t even made it through the finish line when everybody streamed past me. But then, just over the bridge, I started passing the people who were already walking. My pace never changed.
Around another corner, up and over another bridge, I started looking for our turn. Hubby and I had walked the course with the kids a few weeks ago, to lots of “I’m tired!” and “I’m thirsty!” and “Aren’t we finished yet?” with our responses of “Too bad, so sad.” and “Isn’t this a beautiful day and aren’t we having so much fun!”
As our turn neared the racers in front of me kept going straight. As we all passed our turn, I looked and saw that the road was blocked off. I turned to my left and my right, searching for another participant who might also be nervous about this change in course.
But nobody seemed to notice. Finally another woman asked to nobody in particular, “Weren’t we supposed to turn back there?”
“Yes!” I hollered, excited to have somebody else in my What-Is-Going-On? group. As we neared a race official I jogged up to her and asked if we 5k-ers were on the right course. “Yep! Keep going!” She simultaneously ignored my question and kept smiling.
But it was apparent we were on the wrong course. We were on the course for the half-marathoners and full-marathoners. A girl next to me, who’d been keeping track of our half-conversations, pointed to the mile marker with a big ol’ 16 on it. “Look how far we’ve already come!“ she joked. I pumped my fists in the air. “I’ve never made it to mile 16 before!”
At this point in the race, as I learned later, Hubby was very frustrated. He wanted to concentrate on his breathing and his pace in order to finish with a good time. I didn’t care too much. My biggest concern was that they’d have us run 3.1 miles but then make us walk 5 or 6 miles back to the start, where my parents and kids were. Other than that I was stoked that I was STILL RUNNING.
After I’d somewhat given in to the fact that I wouldn’t be running on the course previously planned, I really REALLY enjoyed myself. It was a gorgeously overcast morning (no need for sunglasses), cool temps (the heat didn’t slow me down) and the first line of an e.e. cummings poem kept running through my head: “thank You God for most this amazing day.” Feeling my lungs inhale and exhale, feeling my legs run strong, running alongside others I didn’t know but who were all enjoying themselves, I felt closer to our Creator and so thankful for this body that grows and changes and can be pushed to new things. I was high on life.
Finally the race officials started turning us around. None of us at the same point, but pretty soon everybody on my side of the course looped around to head back to the finish. I kept going, though, hoping to see Hubby and run with him for a bit. I never saw him and eventually turned back and ran on my own.
At the bottom of the last bridge a race official was cheering us on with a, “You’re almost there!” I pumped my fists in the air for the second time in that short race and yelled, “Woohoo!” Then he gave me a high-five. See? Running is FUN.
As I neared the finish line I looked for my kids but didn’t see them. I saw my sister and my husband, though, and made a good time for me. After we got home and mapped my personal route online, I figured out that I ran further AND in a shorter amount of time than I’d done before.
Now I’ve got the bug. I really like running in races. Running on the treadmill, not so much. But outside with the crowds and the bands, SUPER FUN. This may be the start of something.
Erin Fox is a weekly columnist for the Augusta Gazette and a busy mother and wife. Her popular blog - erin’s little corner of the world - is at http://erinslittlecorner.com.
