I do it, and I do it big. Here's to not forgetting about it.

Posts tagged ‘running race’

(P)Re-Epiphany: Race Report

I’ve fallen, and I’m conflicted as to whether or not to get up.

I groaned as I woke up yesterday to check the weather. Cold, cold, cold. I personally do not care to be outside when it dips below 55 in Florida, and it definitely was in the 40s. On the way to the race, I asked myself – why do I bother registering for January races? It feels this way damn near every. year. What is my compulsion?

My mood did not improve upon my arrival at the race site. I saw several people I know, and quite well, but they either didn’t recognize me or chose to ignore me. Sometimes, as a black woman, I feel like a chameleon – a change to my hair and I am a totally different person. Perhaps I simply have a forgettable face, or both! Anyhow, this introvert didn’t feel like talking anyway. I saw a student and his family and I turned the other direction and went back to my car to stay warm.

My word, January 1 was filled with such hope and here I am, the 5th, fallen from my glory. My shiny new Garmin glimmers on my wrist and I feel unworthy of the tool in which I’ve invested. It’s the same old body! Same old weakness, same imperfection, same doubts, but now with Spotify and Bluetooth. I worked to set up my playlist, which I named for my mood.

Screenshot_20200106-213305_Spotify

Sigh. Why am I here?

I exited my car about 5 minutes prior to the race start. I will admit that my music made me dance and smile, as sour as I had been feeling. Like running, it is primal; moreover, it also elicits my feelings of inadequacy, but the only performance ahead of me was this 3.1 miles, so I’m gonna jam. I hear someone shout go and I walk toward the start line, without the hope that I had had just 4 days prior.

I knew that I was capable of running the race in its entirety, but I did not know how fast I would be. I told myself I would just run comfortably. A couple – each with a stroller! – passed me, and I sighed once more. Those babies are winning in every way, I thought to myself – they don’t have student loans! My twisted sense of humor made me smile as I ran.

My watch beeped as I passed the first mile marker. Under 12 minutes?! Whose legs are these? Can I maintain this? I enjoyed my music as I took each step, thankful for what seemed to be a steady pace. This race was in a very familiar area, which – I cannot say I find positive. I know exactly what it feels like to drive on these roads and because I do so fairly often, it made me very impatient to finish the race. By the time the final turn came, I no longer regretted having registered – but I’m not doing this one again!

There was so much food at the finish line but I still just wanted to get the hell out of there. Why does it still feel like a divine revelation that I enjoy completing races, even when I start the day reluctantly? Why am I so hard-headed that it still surprises me a bit when God brings me to another finish line? What will it take for me to feel like I just want to run and not run and hide?

Anyone who is among the living has hope—even a live dog is better off than a dead lion! Ecclesiastes 9:4 (NIV)

You hear that, y’all? I am better than a dead lion! Apparently, there’s hope for me, even when I am down in the dumps…20200105_080055

Miss and Hit: Race Report

The Christmas season may start in earnest after Thanksgiving for civilians, but for music teachers like Lady J, I’ve been professionally preparing since prior to Halloween. Holiday concert number one was on Friday, the 6th, and I had been so stressed and so not running that I thought I would skip out on a 5k for which I registered months ago on Saturday. The Mentor said it would make me feel better, though, and I had the best of intentions to do it.

Womp! Didn’t happen. I made it to bed around 11 and set my alarm to 4:30, but when the husband came into bed late, I was unable to get to back to sleep. I was more scared of the hour long drive each way than I was of the running, and so by 5:30 am, I fell asleep again.

I really hate skipping races for which I’ve registered (unless they are triathlons, no regrets). The only other time I can think of that I’ve missed a running race is when my mother-in-law was literally on her deathbed. 2019 has been a great one, no? 🤦🏾‍♀️ While I think I made the best choice, it still bummed me out. The Mentor texted me to ask how it went because she’s the best, but I waited to reply until…

I showed up and registered for another race today!

Here I am, one of my favorite places in the whole, wide world. The starting line. I’ve been mostly doing intervals since September, if I’ve been doing anything at all. I simply wanted to see where I am right now and how I felt. Run and see what happens!

I chose my Gospel music running playlist. I need supernatural help every day, but today I thought it would be especially helpful. 3.1 miles is a long way! I didn’t have high hopes that I would be able to make it all the way through a song without a walk break, much less a whole mile, but after I saw the first mile mark and I was still trucking along, I started to get some confidence.

Step after step was given to me. I kept marveling at how the body works. The gift of being able to move forward – to walk – much less run – was making me smile as I worked my way toward the finish. Less than 40 minutes before I started, I found myself with Santa!

I. Was. So. Happy!

As I wrapped up some shopping, I heard the awards start and didn’t think anything of it at first. Then I heard some of the times and thought…maybeeeee…and maybe came true!

5th place AG! Not bad for a girl who set her alarm for 4 am this morning and swiped her card to sign up 15 minutes before the start!

I wish my running were more hits and fewer misses, but I am thankful for today! Here’s hoping my next hit drops sooner rather than later…

Who am I? Race Report

E Major

That’s the key of my alarm that went off in its futile attempt to wake me at 4:30 this morning. 

E Major, but louder. 

I groaned. 4:39. ‘I’m not ready for this race…’ I shut off the alarm. 

My thoughts.

Decidedly louder and less harmonious than my alarm, my thoughts of potential regret are what finally got me out of bed at 4:45. Well, that and Adonis pounding on my door. My fabulous future hubs made me breakfast as I prepared for the half-marathon ahead of me. 

Though I was armed with my bib holder and best running lipstick, I was plagued with doubt. My longest continuous run in my current training cycle was 8.5 miles. I was worried about both my mental and physical stamina. In my previous post I wrote regarding my grand expectations for this race. Knowing how far I have fallen from my 2014 peak kinda bums me out. I hadn’t run a half-marathon since the last leg of my half-ironman. My piano teacher always told me that the reason for practicing is not just for skill building but for building confidence. The guilt that comes with not practicing is enough to sap the most talented of confidence. 

As I walked to get my bib, I stared at the finish line. My eyes started to tear. The half-marathon distance has always moved me. I know that I cannot take any of the approximately 30,000 steps that are between me and a finisher’s medal alone. Though on my feet, I am forced to my proverbial knees in a way that I don’t so tangibly feel for shorter distances. 

I took in the crowd. I overheard conversations between other runners. “I’m running with the 1:40 pacer!” Heh. I was trying to decide what a reasonable goal was for me. “Beat the balloon lady?” I thought to myself. I had been thinking this week that considering how underprepared I am I should be happy with 3 hours or less. I searched for the 3 hour pacer. “13:43 min mile,” his sign read. I figured I would be safe but I was not sure if I would be bored. I saw the 2:45 pacer. “12:35.” I walked over to him and told him I wanted to run with him. He smiled and recommended that I keep him in my “rearview mirror” to ensure that I finish in a time I wanted. 

I took a selfie at the starting line and made a face in an attempt to reflect my emotions… 

 I think that captured my Jessie Spano-like state of split emotions. I mean, I did have the morbid curiosity to show up today. Could be fun. 

The horn went off, and off I went. It was good to be moving in the cold weather. I checked my watch. “11:30.” I turned to see if Billy the Pacer was in my rearview mirror. BTP was sho ’nuff in my blind spot! What the hell?! Forever the good student, I sped up. I wasn’t feeling as drained as I thought I might. Yes, I know I still had 13 of 13.1 miles to go. I smiled as we made our first turn. I felt my calves greet me hello. It is here that I am making a public service announcement for all pensive runners – do NOT reflect on the meaning of life before a race instead of warming up. Do them at the same time. I shrugged and kept going. 

I observed the people around me. BTP was talking to a chick who was running her first half. A man was running in memory of a 15 year old who died last month. Some old dude left me in the dust. I grinned. I was moving forward. 

I greeted new people I would encounter. “Good morning!” “You seem happy,” one man responded. “I am!” I said. “I’m alive.” And it was true. Had I had the breath, I would have elaborated that I was alive and could run. My brain had clicked into performance mode and I was freely running without analyzing my preparation or thinking of what would come after the finish. Not even second breakfast was on my mind as I made my way through 13.1 miles. All I was thinking of was the moment, of my current journey, of the blessing of this particular experience. 

I reached mile 7. I thought to myself, “Great! I can do that again.” My knees were angry. At the perfect time, I read a sign that read, “Pain is temporary. Pride is forever.” Race volunteers are a big deal. I thanked God and I thanked the volunteers as I passed them. I checked for BTP. I lost him. Whoops. I shrugged. I ran some more. 

By mile 10, I was starting to warm up. I removed my hat. 10.5 – removed my gloves. 11.5 – damn. I really don’t feel like removing my jacket but it’s hot now. I removed my watch and phone from my sleeve, grabbed both by my teeth, and tried to simultaneously run and disrobe. Almost landed on my face. My youthful lack of wisdom was compensated by my youthful balance. Winning. 

Once I looked at my watch again, I thought to myself, heh. Positive splits. Who cares. I’m a positive girl. This finish line is happening today. No Monday morning quarterbacking until tomorrow. I smiled and waved for the race paparazzi. I turned the final corner and saw Mom, who ran with me to the finish line. 

  
I want to say that I don’t think I could be more proud of myself than I am. I am not worried about anyone who would shudder at the thought of being proud of a 2:41:01 finish time. I fear that someone could read about my concrete goal for the day and think, “Shut up! I would be lucky to finish with the balloon lady. Or finish at all.” I think it is important to note that awesome is relative. I gave 100% today. My goal, in time, is to make MY 100% better. I can’t do anyone else’s 100% because I am Joan. I can’t be anyone else, and it is good to have a day where I am thankful that I am no one else. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. 

That’s who I am. 

Winning at Failing: Race Report 

I had this grand goal in mind when I signed up for this particular race series. In 2013-2014, I did the Active Suncoast 22.4 Challenge – a 5k, a half, and a 10k. Each course was well-supported, scenic, and flat. Moreover, it dawned on me that each of my running PRs were on these courses. I thought to myself, “Yes! I will do this again! This is officially my PR series!” 

Nope. 

I knew there was no way on earth I would hit less than 29 minutes for a 5k in my current shape. Moreover, weather decided to drop into the 40s and all the running I had (or hadn’t) been doing was in the 60s. Did I mention I was still trying to shake a bad cold? And how much I hate running in pants? 

Goal modified, I created a playlist that reflected the new “win” – 6 songs – 32 minutes. I put tissue in my jacket pocket, prepared for the worst.

I don’t know what it was, but I felt great as I ran. I was able to run with very little coughing. My nose felt clear! I smiled as people ran by in winter themed outfits, even giggled when I was outrun by an Olaf. It happens. I was pleased that I had put “Paradise City” as my last song, as it was my warning that I needed to pick it up if I wanted to reach my goal. Sure enough, by the time the tempo changed, I saw the finish line around the corner. I increased my turnover and just made it before I would have had to run in silence, clearly apt punishment for a musician not meeting her running goal. 

I’m getting pretty good at failing. Practice makes perfect! 

  

In Garmin We Trust? 

Look at this. 

  
Apparently, my watch has a lot of faith in me. I have not achieved anything close to ANY of the above times. I’ve done a significant amount of running with the watch, so I’d say it knows me pretty well. Yet it says I am capable of so much more than I have done. 

What does this mean? Am I not working hard enough? If I were to get any of those times I would be beside myself with glee. I worry that after only 2.5 years of running that I have peaked, but Garmin seems to think otherwise – that I have a long way to go. 

Tomorrow, I have a 10k and I am NERVOUS. It is the longest race I have attempted in 2015. Since starting my HR training, I would be ecstatic to get 1:15 or less. Hah. 56:24. Why doesn’t Garmin tell me exactly what I need to do in order to achieve this? Moreover, why doesn’t it tell me when this could be possible? 

  
I love how God can even speak to me through my watch. I may never see any of those times, but I may see some even faster! I must be thankful for every day that I am able to run. Maybe strength and speed are like money – God blesses us with that which He knows we can handle. How will I be a good steward of the strength and speed I have? 

Race report tomorrow! 

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