Mission Accomplished

Back in November, I was talking to my top-secret-code-writer brother-in-law who is a geek by day, and body builder by night.  He and my sister created software to calculate and track body-fat percentage, and they have been the "before" and "after" models for their product.   I lamented that I was having trouble getting back into a fitness schedule and was trying to figure out what to do to get on track.

He said to me: "You need a goal."  We brainstormed a little bit, and I let the idea percolate over the holidays.  I decided to run, and no one was more surprised than me.  I started my couch-to-5K program in January, and did the best I could to get ready for my March 31 race.  Between a demanding job, a blog, and business, travel, I sometimes struggled to stay on schedule.

By the time the date of the race arrived, I wasn't sure if I could really do it.  The area around my house is very hilly, and I fought to eke out two miles of continuous running, let alone 3.125.  When I picked up my race packet at running store Luke's Locker, the clerk asked me if I had a goal time.  I laughed and said, "I just want to run the whole race."

Waking up at 5 AM on March 31, I looked at my husband and son, sleeping peacefully in bed, and I was a little envious.  But I didn't think twice as I jumped in the car and drove down to the Fast Park location by the airport to take the shuttle to Hyatt Lost Pines Resort in Bastrop.  Sitting on the bus, I tried to lean my head against the glass and it was too bumpy to sleep.  So I listened to the music playing on the bus radio and relaxed.

The drive was about thirty minutes, about half of it the long driveway up to the resort, it seemed.  It was pitch dark when I stepped off the bus, and everyone congregated in the conference center, stretching, chatting, and drinking coffee.  I quickly discovered that I didn't bring the safety pins with me that I needed to pin my number to my shirt.

I'm not shy, luckily, so I found my way around by asking friendly-looking fellow runners where to go and figured it out pretty quickly.  I checked my bag at the gear check counter, and chafed at leaving my camera and phone behind, but I remembered that my iPod Touch has a decent camera.  I wished I had a buddy with me and asked nearby runners to take a picture of me before the race.

The half-marathoners lined up first, and the crowd was electric with excitement.  I stretched a little bit, walked around to take a few pictures, and five minutes later, the 5K participants were called to line up and the countdown began.

A funny thing happened as I began running: I started smiling.  Not just a little smirk, or a grin, but a full-on, show-your-dimples smile.  An I'm-so-excited-this-is-my-first-race smile.

I was passed several times, but I also passed a decent number of people.  The first song on my playlist was Guns and Roses "Welcome to the Jungle" and I was keyed up, but stayed steady at a pace I could keep comfortably.  The Maccabee's "Candlelight" was next, and the cadence was perfect, the words amusing as I sang along in my head.

The course was beautiful; watching the sun warm the horizon was added motivation.  The first half-mile was a short hill up and a long hill down, and I knew I'd be tackling that hill again on the return trip.  I felt great, and at the halfway point, I grabbed a cup of water on the run without breaking stride.  Taking my friend Jenn's advice, I didn't gulp it down, but squeezed the little paper cup and took a few sips.  I saw another runner toss her cup in the grass and was annoyed that she littered this gorgeous landscape, but I let it go.  I held onto my cup and tossed it in the trash can back at the water station at the turnaround.

At mile two, I saw a lot of people start to walk at intervals.  I wasn't tempted to veer from my goal and kept running.  A woman was in front of me and I guessed her age at about 60.  I said to myself, "You have to pass her.  Come on,"  and I kicked it up a notch.  With a half mile to go, I hit the hill, and I tackled it with the reserve I had left in my legs and in my lungs.  With a rower's focus, I picked two women ahead of me that I wanted to pass, and I made my way ahead.

I was discovering how strong I could be again.  My competitive spirit showed itself in the last two hundred yards, and I ran as hard as I could with all I had left.  In my photos at the finish line, I'm smiling again.   This race took time away from my family, it required a fair amount of training, and it cost me money.  The payoff, however, was priceless.  I was so proud to achieve this small goal that I'm motivated to set others, and that's exactly what I needed.

I did it.   Now I need a new goal.