Yesterday I ran my second 5K. I use the term “ran” loosely since I did a combination of running and walking, much as I did the last time. And also because I run really slowly. Really. I was hoping to run the entire length of the course this time but it didn’t work out that way. Let me back up and explain.

I finished the C25K running program last week. My greatest distance was a couple of weeks ago at 2.74 miles and my longest time of non-stop running was 32 minutes last Friday. A 5K is 3.1 miles and even at my best pace of 12:30/mile that meant I’d be running for at least 38 minutes – something I hadn’t done yet. I was definitely feeling unprepared for the race but I’d made a commitment and I wasn’t going to bail.

Let me tell you, though, when I woke up to cold rain yesterday morning the thought of blowing off the race was very tempting. I even texted Jo-Ann and half-joking said maybe we shouldn’t run the race. She reminded me, though, that we had told a lot of people we’d be running and – most important of all – we had told ourselves that we’d be running. She was right, of course, and so we showed up at the local YMCA at the appropriate time. This race was quite different than the Run to the Rock – for one thing, it was 5 minutes from my house. And for another, there were a lot less runners. A lot less. My number was 139 but I definitely didn’t see another 138 people there, I’d estimate there were maybe 50-75 runners. I’m sure the weather didn’t help with the turn out. Also, it wasn’t a chipped race and I’m guessing that discouraged the very experienced runners.

Anyway.

Jo-Ann and I were together at the starting point and the rain had mostly stopped. She got a little ahead of me but then I caught up and we were running together, which was totally awesome. Our pace was really similar and we stayed together, occasionally passing other runners, for the first mile. I was just thinking to myself – hey, you’ve got this and maybe you can actually run the entire course – when Jo-Ann paused to take off her long sleeve shirt. She had to remove her arm band to do it and we were running side-by-side and I was trying to help her and then her phone hit the ground and came apart and she had to stop and pick it up. I started walking, thinking that if I walked while she got herself pulled together then she would catch up with me and we’d go back to running side by side. It didn’t work out that way, though, and I gained some distance on her.

I wanted to stop and wait for her because I knew it would be harder for me to quit running if she was with me but I was afraid that if I stopped moving at all it would be really hard to start running again. So I kept going except that now I was walking. I pretty much walked the 2nd mile and then I did some intervals again for mile 3. The running parts were feeling okay and I kept pushing forward. There weren’t any large hills but there were some inclines and I walked those. One of those inclines was right before the turn for the finish and I was hauling my butt up the hill, not feeling particularly motivated, when one of the Y trainers that I know came running down towards me and started to encourage me to start running again for the finish. She ran beside me and I started running again and I hit that finish line at a sprint.

My time was 43:44, 40 seconds less than my Run to the Rock time of 44:24. Had I hoped for a better time? Absofrigginlutely. But given my lack of motivation that morning and the added stress about the weather, I think that time is pretty good. Well. Pretty good for a 47 year old woman who has never done anything remotely athletic in her life until 5 months ago.

And, of course, there’s always next time.

My first 5K is now a thing of the past and I had a fantastic time. It was hard, don’t get me wrong, but it was rewarding and fun and I’m so glad I did it. Starting out with good friends like Jo-Ann, Manise, and Helen, as well as fellow Kiwanians Charlie and Susan had me on a high from the minute we got to the parking lot. And having Dale and my dear friend Anne there as my cheering squad, plus knowing all of you were cheering me on from your seats at home, really motivated me to do my absolute best.

I had some goals going into the race and the most important one was to finish. After that I was hoping to not finish last. And to maybe finish in less than 50 minutes. I knew I wouldn’t be able to run the entire length of the course (even though I had secret fantasies that had me doing just that) but I hoped I’d be able to at least run half and walk half.

Here comes the best part of this post:

I met all my goals. I finished, of course, and my time was 44:24, almost 6 minutes under my goal of 50:00. My pace was 14:19/M, a personal best for me. I walked about half the race and, although I was slightly disappointed that I didn’t run more, I knew it was for the best given the high humidity of the day. The course wasn’t difficult and I made up my mind before I started that I would walk the hills and inclines, knowing that I’d get out of breath if I tackled those running. I was smart and practical and it worked out well for me. I will say that parts of the course were a little bit lonely for me. We had all separated into our own paces and I was near the back and sort of alone. There weren’t a lot of people cheering from the sidelines and I wasn’t listening to music and, while my commitment never wavered, I definitely felt a little isolated. Once I hit that last mile, though, I felt much better. I knew I was going to finish and I knew my time was going to be better than I had anticipated. I had planned on running that whole last mile but the heat and humidity made me realize I didn’t have it in me so I walked until I was about a half mile from the finish line. I saw my friend Anne and then I saw Dale and I heard someone (I realized afterwards that it was Manise) screaming my name and telling me I could do it and – even though I was sweaty and tired and hot – I put everything I had into those last few yards.

It felt awesome. Okay, mostly it felt awesome to stop but still, awesome is the appropriate word.

Helen and Jo-Ann were just a few minutes behind me and once we all finished and drank some water and cooled down a bit the really fun part started. We swapped stories about the things that happened along the race route. We talked about the houses we saw and the little kid who was all alone in front of his house clapping for every runner. We shared what it felt like when the winner of the 10K went by all of us so fast we caught a breeze as he passed. We told each other about our own personal failures and triumphs. And we pledged to do better next time.

And of course there’s going to be a next time. If all goes according to schedule I will be running a race right here in my home town on October 14th. And by then I will have completed the Couch25K program which will help build my endurance and stamina. Even with those goals in mind, though, I’m still pretty proud of myself for completing this race, especially when I remember how far I have come. On May 22nd I couldn’t run for 30 seconds and on September 8th I ran the better part of 5K.

Thank you to Dale for taking all of these photos. And thanks to all of you for the support, for cheering me on, for encouraging me with your comments and emails, and for being the best readers a blogger could ever ask for.

 

Yesterday marked 2 months since I joined the Y and started changing my story. In these past 9 weeks I have gone to the gym 5 times each week with very few exceptions. I have used the treadmill, the elliptical, and the free weights. I have had 8 appointments with my personal trainer and I have lost – wait for it – 15 pounds and several inches around my waist, hips and other, errr, areas.

And you know, that weight loss thing is a huge deal. Seeing the scale go down and down has motivated me and inspired me to work harder and eat mindfully. It means I’ve dropped a whole clothing size and I don’t cringe when I look in the mirror now. I feel like it’s starting to show although I’m still waiting for someone who doesn’t know I’ve been working out to notice and that hasn’t happened yet.

But there’s something that’s more important than those 15 pounds. It’s the way I feel. I feel strong and proud of myself for the first time in a very long time. I feel excited about life and I look forward to going to the gym each day. It’s as if I spent the last 10 years sleepwalking through my life and now I’m WIDE AWAKE and full of energy and ready to take on the world. A switch was flipped in my head on May 22nd and I’ve become a person who enjoys exercise. Even as I write those words I sort of can’t believe it. Me. Exercising and enjoying it. Wow. I love challenging myself to go further, push harder, run longer, walk faster. That first day at the gym I could run for 10 seconds. 10 seconds, people. Now I can run for a full 3 minutes at a time and I’m working on the Couch to 5K training program – I’ve even signed up for my first 5K. I’m pretty sure I won’t be running the whole race but I’m going to do my best and even though I’m terrified I’m going to do it.

This is the only life I have, the only body I’ve got, and I’m making it better.

I am changing my story.

On Tuesday I joined my local YMCA. This decision was inspired by several factors:

1. When Dale and I were on vacation there were lots of full length mirrors in our various hotel rooms. Lots. That meant I got a good look at myself, something I don’t get to do at home since we only have 1 full length mirror and it’s in the bathroom and I pretty much ignore it. I was not happy with what I saw and I couldn’t help but wonder how the hell I let myself get to this point.
2. My 25th college reunion was last weekend. I did not attend. Why? Because I hate the way I look. I know that people who would judge me for this aren’t really my friends, blah blah blah, but still, I did not go because I am fat. And ashamed.
3.  That dress I bought last week? The one I’m knitting a shawl for so that I can cover my arms? It’s a size 20. A size 20, people. I cannot continue to be a size 20 and this has to be the one and only piece of clothing I buy in that size.
4. The View on Monday was called The Fat Show. Helloooooo, Carole? Coincidence? I don’t think so.

Those four things, in conjunction with a personal day from work, came together in my head and a decision was made. It was kind of a snap decision but I went with it and I joined up. I had my first appointment with my personal trainer that very afternoon. She was awesome! We went over my goals – my short term goal is to lose 10 pounds by the 4th of July – and my feelings. I told her I need her to kick my ass and not let me be lazy about this. She said, ‘you’ve taken the hardest step, you’ve started.” And I told her she was wrong because that’s just not true for me. The hardest thing for me to do is to keep at it. I start out strong and motivated and excited. And then a few weeks go by and the scale hasn’t dropped and I wonder why I’m bothering if nothing has really changed and that’s when I quit.

Not this time, though. This time I am going to turn it around. I am going to become a person who exercises. I am going to become a person who jogs. I am going to become a person who is fit. And at some point, I’m not sure just when but definitely at some point, I am going to run a 5K with my friends.

I’m counting on all of you, my blog readers, to encourage me and keep me on track and help me to not lose sight of my goals.

Mmmmkay?