The 5k of Death

When I was pregnant with Adelyn, Cheyenne decided to start running.  He had been a fairly regular runner in college but had stopped and wanted to pick it back up again. While normally I would be all "Hey! That's great, good luck to you!" at this point in my life I found it extremely RUDE that he would begin a new fitness regimen whilst I took on the form of a whale.  I mean, he was already skinny and gorgeous, so I found it very offensive that he chose this time to start furthering his skinniness and gorgeousness.  

Well, after I had Adelyn and I came out of crazy "I just had a baby" land (although do you ever really leave this place?), was back at work and on a routine, I began reading the blog of Mama Laughlin. She is a mom of two and a runner.  She blogs about her life and her weight loss and running journeys.  She always talks about how hard running was in the beginning, how she struggled, and how it's become a part of her life that she can't live without.  I became inspired and decided that I too would become a runner! *fist pump* I downloaded the 5k runner app on my phone with the mindset that in 8 weeks I would be a 5k runner. Easy peasy, right?

Hmmmm.

I did ok.  It seems finding the time to run was a lot harder than I thought it would be.  I couldn't run before work because I seriously cannot do anything more than the bare minimum needed to get myself and the kids out of the door in the mornings.  I tried running during lunch, but with no shower at work I just felt gross getting back into my work clothes afterward.  I felt guilty running after work because it cut into my time with the kids and I was too scaredy cat to run at night for fear I would be abducted and/or murdered while on my run (I know that's a dark thought, but I have dark/crazy/unfounded fears, this is one of them.  I blame Criminal Minds).  

After a month or two of trying to find the right running time, I just quit.  It was starting to get cold and that was a good enough reason to quit in my book.  However, once the weather warmed up again after the New Year, I slowly started running again.  And when I say "running" I mean "run 2 min, walk 2 min" etc.(And those 2 minutes of running were hard! So hard!). I decided to take the 5k app at my own pace instead of the intended pace of the app. I have seriously taken an 8 week program and turned it into an almost 7 month program.  Whatever. I think this has helped me sort of stick with it though. Mama can't be rushed.  I'm rushed in all other aspects of my life, so I refused to be rushed in this part of my life.  I knew one day I would run a 5k, I just didn't know (or care) when that would be.

So now to the almost present, Cheyenne has been running for almost 2 years now.  He ran the Country Music 1/2 Marathon in April and after that decided that he wanted to make a goal to run a 1/2 Marathon in all 50 states by the time he's 50.  Because of this goal, timing, and the price of flights, we found ourselves in Albuquerque, New Mexico two weeks ago so he could begin this journey.  This race also had a 5k. Here is my chance. I signed up and said a little prayer.

On race day I woke up nervous.  My goal was to run the whole thing without walking.  I didn't care about time, my goal was to run and finish.  But I'm also a habitual quitter when physical activity gets hard, so I was really afraid I'd quit and walk.  

We arrived at the Start line and then it was time. Cheyenne and his other 1/2 Marathon over-achievers started first.  After they left, the 10k people started their race.  Then, it was just me and my people.  My fellow 5k-ers.  I just knew we would all be one big happy slow running family.  They blew the start horn and we took off.  And we're running.  As I'm running I notice a big group of people ahead of me.  "Have we somehow caught up to the 10k people?"  Nope, not the 10kers. That was all of my fellow 5kers, my people, leaving me in their DUST!  While this was incredibly demoralizing, I kept on. 

And little kids passed me.  And old, gray-haired women passed me.  But hey, I was running and I was doing it.  Shortly after mile 2 I became seriously grouchy.  Why was I grouchy?  Because I was running! And it wasn't over! And it was hard! Some people in front of me had started to walk and I was starting to catch up to this one girl.  Right as I was about to pass her she sprinted ahead.  After about 30 yards she stopped and walked again.  Right as I was about to pass her (again), she sprinted ahead.  This went on for the entire last mile of the race and it PISSED. ME. OFF.  It took every ounce of my being to not scream at her:

"I am TRYING to run this race and you are killing my morale with your sprint/walking. I am RUNNING and you are WALKING and you are still going to beat me and I swear to all that is mighty, if you do not stop I WILL CUT YOU!"

But I refrained and I did not yell nor did I cut her.  I kept on and 14 years later, I saw the Finish Line (cue angels singing). As I stared to cross the Finish Line, I started to cry.  Not because I was in pain and not because I'd missed my chance to cut that b*tch, but because I had done it.  I had DONE it! And as the race organizers were taking off my timing chip, I began to cry harder.  I don't mean one single tear streamed down my ever inspired face, I mean I flat-out sobbed.  I went over to a solitary place and chest-heaved, loud-noise sobbed like Lincoln a little baby.  I'm sure people thought I had hurt myself and was in pain.  After all, who would sob so hysterically after a 5k unless they were in serious pain? But I did, and that's fine.  I was proud of myself, and that's a pretty rare feeling I have for myself.  I'm also a basket case these days. 

In the end I ran a solid 12:30 mile.  HOLLA! And the next day my foot hurt so bad I could barely walk.  What's the lesson here? Running sucks. And it hurts your foot and gives you murderous thoughts about your fellow runners.

Cheyenne ran his 1/2 Marathon in 1:49.  A little over an 8 min mile. Barf Congrats to him!


I have to be honest, I'm still not really down with this whole running thing.  It's hard, and it hurts.  I have yet to get to that place where it is "fun" like other runners claim it to be.  I'm going to keep at it (hopefully).  I actually have to keep at it until at least November because I signed up for a 1/2 Marathon with Cheyenne.  WWWHHHHHYYYYY did I do that? I must have been drunk...