My first 5K experience was absolutely amazing. Better than I expected it to be.
The day of, I did mostly nothing. I had the day off and the race wasn't until 9, so I sat on my butt. I read that marathon runners are supposed to relax the day before a race, so for some reason I thought that applied to me. In my mind, 3.2 miles might as well be 26.2 miles. I also thought that since I wasn't able to relax the day before (I had a frisbee game, lots of running), I could just do my relaxing on the day of. Turns out, 8 hours of bad local television does nothing to prepare a someone for a 5K. Who knew?
I have this odd obsession with food, like it's the key to everything. When I'm not feeling 100%, it must be because of something I ate. Too tired? It's the hummus. Crabby mood? It's the Boca burger. Bad hair day? It had to be the Cheerios. So, in true Natalee spirit, I mimicked everything I ate on the day I ran the 2 miles. Because I'm sure making it to two miles wasn't a result of all the training I'd been doing for months. It was definitely the peach I had for breakfast.
One thing I did differently was I cut down on liquids, especially towards the end of the day. I had been having a problem with side cramping and I noticed that it only happened when I would drink water before a run. I also didn't want to have to squat in some bushes halfway through the race. I don't know what I was thinking. I don't know why I thought a dehydrated runner was better than a cramping runner, or even why I thought water was definitely the reason for my cramping. I didn't bother to look that up (but I can look up what marathon runners do the day before a race?), so I didn't learn until after that cramping has nothing to do with drinking water. A lot of times, it can actually be a result of dehydration. My bad.
Okay, so I didn't do nothing ALL day. I did some cleaning, some dancing, some playlist-planning. I fittingly named my playlist "run, fat kid, run!". I listened to music that pumped me up and put me in a great mood. By 8:15, when my mom picked me up, I was ready to go. No butterflies, no worries.
We got there early and got our "packets" and "chips". Then we learned what "packets" and "chips" are. In the packet (really, a bag full of stuff), we got chartreuse shirts, bibs (the thing with the # on it), powerbar gel blasts, etc. Pretty nifty. The chips were little things attached to our shoelaces, so when we crossed the finish line we'd get an accurate timing that we could look up online later. In my case, that's just depressing.
Even though I was pretty sure I wasn't going to run the entire 3.2 miles, I wasn't nervous at all. I was excited. Especially after we got our shirts, bibs and chips. I think maybe we were a little too excited, though. While we were going to put the stuff in the jeep, putting our shirts on and taking a couple pictures, we failed to notice that nearly 500 people had moved from the top of the hill at Olin park to S. Shore Drive, nearly a mile away, in a matter of maybe 5 minutes. When we noticed that there were no more chartreuse shirts in sight, we kind of freaked out. We thought the race was going to begin at Olin, but I guess it didn't. With the help of a race volunteer, we figured out where to go and made it with a few minutes to spare. Whew.Being around so many runners, dressed just like them and stretching like them and getting ready to attack a 3.2 mile race like them made me feel... odd and inspired at the same time. Out-of-place and in the right place. Bizzare and electrified.
The first part of the race was invigorating. The first song on my playlist (& my mom's playlist, too. She used the same one.) was "Hey ho! Let's go!". It worked like a charm. I was jacked for the race and smiling big and ready to go. There were people along the sidewalk right at the beginning clapping and cheering like we had all really accomplished something by running 50 feet. In hindsight, I guess they were pumping us up for the next 3+ miles, but it felt undeserved at the time.
I was feeling great until halfway through the next song (which is an 8 minute song so maybe it's not so bad) when I finally had to stop and nurse a side cramp. I was back to running almost immediately, but at that point I had lost my mom. She's better at this running thing than I am.
Before I knew it, I had made it to the 1-mile mark. I was able to see the Madison skyline. The Capital. Lake Monona. I love that view so much. I love to think that I live right in there, inside that beautiful postcard-worthy view. It might seem completely unrelated to the race, but it's not. After 1 mile, I wasn't thinking about the race anymore. I was thinking about how lucky I am to live in such a beautiful city and to have a mother who pushes me to do things that I never would have dreamed of trying. How lucky I am that the extent of my suffering in life is having no air conditioning in my apartment and the occasional side cramp.
I stopped a couple more times. Inhaler, cramping, general exhaustion. That kind of thing. It was a very brief stop each time. I'd say I was between 4.5 and 5.5mph for the rest of the race, so not very fast, but not walking, either. I forged on along with the rest of the misfit toys, though. The asthmatics, the "I'll just walk"ers, the kids my sister's age. The awesome part is that I finished it running. I ran through a side cramp that kept coming back. I ran up the hill at Olin. I ran because there were so many people watching me, standing at the sides, still enthusiastic after already cheering on hundreds of racers ahead of me, clapping and telling me that I was doing great.
I felt like a real runner for the first time. My mom caught a picture of my first 5K finish ever. A moment of triumph and proof that I actually can finish what I start.
My final time was 38:33. Not great, but not terrible. I'll do better next time.
