Friday afternoon we drove up to Philly. We went to the Phillies game that night and the traffic was so bad that I had to drink 3 beers for medicinal purposes (stress relief) pretty quickly once we got to the game.
When we got home from the game, my dad was out drinking scotch on the porch, so of course I joined him for a glass (or 7). I topped off the night with a Phillies cookie and went to bed.
When I woke up the next morning, I had a pretty powerful headache. I had looked up local races earlier in the week, but we decided to make a morning-of call on whether or not to do one, and I actually didn't even bring any race gear with me because I figured I would be too
Check out my sweet non-dropping hip!I felt like complete crap during the warm-up - I was sweating out scotch and had some excellent heartburn going on. I sat in the car for a few minutes after warming up, and found a Gu in the center console that might have been 2 years old and ate it, washed down with some hot-water-fountain-water. I figured I couldn't really make anything worse.
The race didn't start until 10am so it was full on hot and humid by the time we lined up to start. Graham had decided to run with the poet to try and PR.
I had no intentions of trying to PR, I just wanted to set a decent pace and hang on. I didn't have a time goal in my mind, but I was hoping to run pretty even 8:30s. The race wasn't being chip timed, so I lined up near the front. I couldn't decide whether or not to run with music, but I grabbed my iPod shuffle at the last second and plugged it in. There were only a few hundred people running the race, and the guy working the clock stood up and yelled, "Ready, set, go!"
Immediately a pack filled with mostly high-school-age-looking kids took off, plus a few more men. I settled in behind the pack with two other men. I'm pretty bad at judging my exertion levels when it's hot out, but the pace felt fine and I figured I would just draft off of them a bit. I never trust my Garmin during a race for pace, but when I looked down the first time it said I had covered .38 and my pace was 7:11. I freaked out and hit the brakes hard, letting the two men pull ahead. My watch beeped 1 mile at 7:37, and I knew I was going to blow up. My heartburn was back and I was already spitting a lot.
The course went on a little trail, over some small bridges and out to a park, where we did two loops of the park and then headed back. The mile markers on the course weren't even close - I ran past the 1-mile marker at .68 on my watch, and the 2-mile marker wasn't until roughly 2.2 - although the total mileage for the course ended up being right. There was some shade in the park but the air was very thick and humid, and there were several places where the trail had been washed out and we had to run through deep puddles. I got through the first loop and started the second when my stomach revolted and I had to pull over. I didn't puke, just dry-heaved a few times and spat all over the ground. I walked for about 15 seconds and then kept going. My watch beeped for mile 2 at 8:26.
We wrapped around the back of the loop and a pack of teenage girls caught up with me. I tried to hang with them but my stomach was in knots. I ended up making two dry-heaving pit stops in mile 3. A guy ran past and asked if I was okay, and I just yelled, "HANGOVER!" and he laughed and kept going.
The course came out of a loop and the last .5 of a mile was on sidewalk in direct sunlight. It was awful. My watch beeped mile 3 at 8:38 (goddamn pit stops) and I started trying to do math in my head. I somehow thought that I could still make it in under 25 minutes (race math fail, um no, I sadly can't run .1 in 19 seconds) but didn't really have much left in the tank. When I rounded the corner and saw the clock showing 25:15 I just hauled ass towards the finish. .1: 43 seconds, final time: 25:26 (8:12 pace). Graham and the poet were pretty close behind me, finishing in 26:50, a big PR for Graham!
The finish line was stocked with orange slices and soft pretzels (Philly suburb, yesss) so we hung out and stuffed our faces for a while.
They were tearing off tags and posting them on a board, and when I looked at it, I realized I came in second in my age group (30-39). Hooray for small local 5Ks! I was pretty pumped to get a medal.
Okay, I was ridiculously excited to get a medal. I never win anything!
I wore my bib and medal to the grocery store and Target and all day until I had get changed for a party. I walked around all day saying, "I came in second!" in a loud voice and "In the women's 30-39 age group" in a much softer voice.
I also had an incredibly hilarious text messaging conversation with my coach about running a 5K after 3 months of no speedwork at all and a broken butt (similar to the conversation we had last week about running 13.1 after 3 weeks of training; yes, I'm a complete disaster, sorry George!). However, this time makes me REALLY pumped to return to the track next week and see what I can do to some more short races this summer. But until then, have a great week, friends! I hope you really enjoy the guest posts this week as I think they are great topics being covered by some truly amazing women. And as you read this, I'm probably drinking something with an umbrella in it (yes, at 9am, no judgement). It's delicious!