Oh, the Insanity - Part 2

I ran my 10K on Saturday.

Last year I finished in 60:31. This year I finished in 1:04:38.

I love the atmosphere at a race. Hundreds of runners swarming around — pinning on numbers, warming up, waiting in lines for the porta-potties. It's fabulous. I ran the race with my friend Jen. We started out running together, but about half a mile into the race Jen pulled ahead and disappeared in a sea of runners. She told me later she didn't even realize I wasn't with her for another quarter mile. I settled into a good pace and quickly passed mile markers one and two.

That's when it happened. "Hhhaaa-hhhaaa, Hhhaaa-hhhaa." It sounded like Darth Vader was behind me. The owner of the strange breathing technique tailed me for a couple minutes, making me increasingly nervous. Finally I slowed to let her pass. Bad idea. As I slowed, I became more aware of the burn in my legs, the blister forming on my right foot and the uncomfortable feeling in my side. Suddenly each little obstacle discouraged me. A slight hill, the intensity of the sun, running on gravel — every hinderance made me conclude I couldn't keep running.

Between miles 3 and 5, I stopped to walk four times. At first I was miffed by my lack of endurance and determination. As Nike slogans danced through my head, I reworded them: "Just DON'T do it" and "Defeat is ALWAYS an option." I suffered the humiliation of old ladies and 12-year-olds passing me. Then I remembered the saying, "To thine ownself be true." Being true to myself was admitting that I'm not a top-notch runner. Being true to myself was being willing to walk (and enjoying it) when I couldn't run. Being true to myself was feeling satisfaction not for setting a new record but for finishing the race.

At mile five I determined to run the remaining 1.2 miles without stopping to walk. As I ran into the park where the race would finish, I saw a fox leaping through a grassy area. "Good thing we're back here," a woman said cheerfully. "Or we would have missed that." A flow of runners were now passing us coming from the other direction and they cheered us on. "You're almost there!" "Quarter of a mile!" "Looking good." I smiled, remembering why I like races.

As I entered the home stretch, my friend Holly was waiting (she'd finished in 44:44). "Way to go, Suz!" she yelled. The encouragement gave me a surge of energy. I rounded the final turn at a dead run, and finished just 4:08 off last year's time. Jen was waiting on the other side.

"That was fun," she said.

I smiled. "Yeah, we should do it again next year."