First shuffle of the season

On Sunday, March 23,  Aaron and I ran (well...HE ran....I shuffled) our first race of the season...the Strides of March 5k.

And, boy...was it COLD!!  Roughly 25 degrees...(shouldn't that be illegal or something??)

When we arrived, we saw many familiar faces...it felt good to see them again (even though they have absolutely no idea who we are).  Aaron and I haven't really raced much over the past 2 years...just our annual half marathon and one or two other local races.  I was feeling really excited to be there in the pre-race atmosphere.  The annoyance of the cold and the early hour quickly faded away as we stretched and set out for our warm-up walk/jog.

I felt pretty confident...darn near cocky, actually...as we lined up at the starting line, that I would meet my two goals for this race:  shuffling the whole time (no walking) and coming in under 36 minutes.

I turned up my ipod, kissed Aaron, wished him luck and told him I'd see him at the finish line.  With that, the race began and he took off in front of me.  I started off in a nice, comfortable shuffle...allowing my ankles and calves to loosen up and my breathing to become rhythmic.  As I looked forward, I watched the front-runners (the Kenyans...in the neon running shoes) move swiftly... gracefully.... along the street.  I wondered how often, and how far, they run everyday to look like that...to move like that. "It helps"...I thought to myself..."that they are long and lean...not average, chunky, and "barefoot" like you!"  

So began my negative internal dialogue...

By the time I reached the 3/4 mile mark, the front runner was already coming back towards the finish line.  "Holy crap!!" I thought as I gave him a congratulatory wave...."I am not even to the first mile yet and he is less than a mile away from FINISHED!!  Where do people GET that?!?!  Do I have that somewhere in me too???  Ummm.....that's a big fat 'NO'...."

By mile two of the 3.1 mile race, I was exhausted. My legs were burnt out and my lungs were frost-bitten...(I have no scientific data to back that, but my body wouldn't lie!!)  I began to walk....goal number one broken....and gave myself a mental smack upside the head.  "Quitter!!  Wimp!!  How in the hell are you going to run 13 miles if you cant even make it two?!"

Gasping for air, I began to feel the physical manifestations of my frustration and disgust for my physical decline over the past year.  Tears began to well up in my eyes and my throat tightened, trying to hold them back.  "Don't you dare cry!  Just move!!!  Crying wont fix this...moving will!!!" Fighting the urge to burst into tears created an unbearable tightness in my chest and throat...which forced me into a walk again.  My internal abusive rantings changed to ones of relaxation and compassion...."Relax....relax....breathe....you're doing fine...just keep moving forward, you will get there....it's cold.....you are trying...at least you are here and not sleeping in bed...give yourself a break...it's been a while".  With that, came a new appreciation for my body and its struggles.

 I am not athletic, but I am trying...

And by trying....continuously....I just may become athletic

I finished in 37:20.....goal number 2 broken.....but I did it...
and I have a new goal for my next 5k...
finish under 37:20.

It was a good morning :)