Clocked in at 33:30 unofficially (I didn’t stick around to see the official time, but it couldn’t have been more than a second or two off; I was looking at the clock instead of looking where I was running).
Cookie Monster was hungry after the race and ended up grabbing a Coke, two slices of pizza, a sandwich, and, of course, a cookie.
Really a should have taken a pic of that. The food was the highlight of the run. The rest of the run mostly sucked, but I wasn’t really prepped to run, so I’ll live with it (side note, three-week layoff and a foot I wasn’t completely sure would survive, and I still ran a comparable time to the rest of my year; tell me that crap ain’t frustrating).
This was an odd race for me. I didn’t have the same night-before and morning-of nervousness that I’m used to. I’ve been so inactive the past few weeks because of my foot (and couple of months when you throw in shoulder and knee issues) that I just didn’t really feel like I was doing what I was about to do.
I wasn’t concerned with how I was going to run. I was concerned with if I was going to be able to run. The first steps I took running at the start line were the first steps I’ve run since I hurt my foot. Not a good way to test things out.
I did what I could to prep. I’ve babied my foot the past three weeks by limiting the amount of walking I did, icing it, and wearing shoes that didn’t cause me pain (or much pain, at least).
By circumstance, I figured out my old Brooks Glycerines that I’m hoping to retire as running shoes in the next couple of months felt the best walking around, so I knew if nothing else I could wear them today and walk the course. Luckily, they held up (probably due to the insole I have for my left foot from my original foot injury two and half years ago). Now I have to hope that the injury was a fluke and not the fault of my new Brooks that are meant to retire to Glycerines (but I’m a realist and bought the same insoles for the Ghosts to see if that helps protect my foot).
My other concern was the weather. Originally, it was supposed to be raining during the race, and with the risk of having to walk to whole course, there was no part of me that was willing to run if it was going to be pouring the whole time. Luckily, again, the rain held off. Now I get a lazy, rainy Saturday to enjoy my aches all to myself.
Getting to the race, organization was ok. They never actually said where the race was going to be held, I shit you not. It’s on campus where I work, so I was pretty sure it was at the rec center, but you’ll never actually find that statement anywhere in their information about the event.
Once you got there, everything else was good. You showed up, the lines were short, and you got your stuff. It was my first experience with the chips that attach to shoes, so that was different, but I got a new souvenir (despite the pre-race info saying to return the chips, they said they were disposable and we could keep them).
Weather was ok. It was low 60s and a little chilly, but not enough for me to want to wear cold-weather gear under the Cookie Monster shirt (said the grown-ass man). It wasn’t 100% my favorite weather, but it definitely wasn’t bad, and there wasn’t an ice warning like there was in my first race of the year, so anything better than that is a winner in my book.
Despite being where I work and typically run, it wasn’t actually a route that I take. There’s not a lot of jogging friendly space on campus, and the route was actually on a lot of streets that don’t have sidewalks, so I wasn’t actually jogging familiar routes the bulk of the run. It’s nice to run a 5K on a familiar route so you know what to expect, but it was also cool to see the campus on some roads I’m not used to seeing as a pedestrian.
And the run sucked. I can’t take three weeks off and run a race without it being a bad idea. My first 5K only involved 3 weeks of pre (I hadn’t been running at all before that), and I ran 2 minutes faster than I did today. I felt achy and wore out. I still feel achy and wore out.
The drive home was interesting. I was just a big exhausted mess. And a realization appeared. I run because I hate my body. Not an I hate who I am because I have excess weight/don’t have enough weight/don’t have enough muscle/have too much muscle body hate. No, this is an I hate my body because the stupid thing is trying to break down on me in my 20s. This is a hate of defiance. This is a hate that will take me up the stairs because I know some day my body won’t let me anymore. This is a civil war.
I’ve always gotten a kick out of the memes/stories about exercising because you love your body. Screw that. My body’s a jerk. It’s putting in time on the pavement until it starts behaving.
Post-race recovery has been interesting. In addition to the cookie, Coke, pizza, and sandwich, I dropped by Sonic for a breakfast toaster with tater tots and another Coke. After that I knew my bad decisions had to (mostly) come to an end for the remainder of the weekend. I can’t keep eating like a kid making bad decisions at a theme park. I got some sushi for lunch, and I’m going to chase that with a salad for dinner. Just a salad. Just a stupid salad. Stupid salad. Stupid. Salad.
I may have issues with health-eating choices.
Oh well. I’ve iced my foot once post-race. I’ll ice it again. Otherwise, we’re calling it a day, and time to watch some football.
Side note, if you should check out my friend’s running blog. They’re much better about planning and including pictures in theirs, so if you’ve suffered this far, you deserve to read something more pleasant than this (and she does blog about more than that if you’d like to know about pumpkin-spiced drinks; I’m going to have an alcoholic root beer, personally; Didn’t even know they made those ‘til today).