Ready, Set, Run!

I registered for my first 5K last Spring. The countdown is upon me, I'm competing this week!

I've read numerous books, magazines and online articles about training for your first race. I'm a non-athlete so this is a big deal. I've implemented several of the suggested plans. And never followed all the way through with any. My problem? I think it's because I don't like running on a treadmill. I live at the bottom of a steep grade in a neighborhood where yes, there has been gang activity. Yes, there is the occasional drifter. Yes, there frequently are loose dogs, feral cats and copperhead snakes. No, I can't talk any of my family members into running with me. My friendly neighbors moved away years ago. All of that aside, when the weather is nice and the sidewalks are clear, it's really hard for a beginning runner to run uphill and not get crampy, winded and discouraged.

I belong to two gyms. One is a 45 minute round trip (except in the summer when the traffic is relentless). I really enjoy the group exercise classes with their top notch instructors. I take several classes each week: Yoga, Pilates and CXWORX. We joined a nearby gym for cardio. So I run on the treadmill or climb the stairmill. I did work with a professional trainer for there for several weeks. He was great, but unreliable and his one dollar per minute fee did not fit into my family budget long-term.

There is a local running club, and it is my fond desire to join them. But not until I can prove to myself that I can actually run. I want to be an athlete. I want to move my body for health and emotional vigor.

Physical background: I was born pigeon-toed. Back when they treated in-toeing. I went to physical therapy, wore ugly oxblood leather high topped shoes, was fitted into an apparatus at night which was a long metal bar with a shoe attached to each end pointing outward. All through childhood, I had to look down when walking, running or skipping or I'd trip over the sidewalk cracks. I dreaded P.E. and was too shy to dance or do cheer leading. I'm also a 9 year cancer survivor. Melanoma. I've never had a tan, have always been careful to stay out of the sun and I slather on sunscreen. I'm 50 years old. Twenty pounds overweight. Normal blood pressure and cholesterol. My beautiful nonsmoker sister died of lung cancer at age 57. Our parents died of heart disease at 85 and 91.

When my final race instructions arrived last week, I was horrified to learn there was a minimum 16 minute mile pace. If you fall behind the pacer bike with the orange flag, you will be removed from the race, put on a bus and not allowed to cross the finish line or receive a medal. I thought I was all ready, my average treadmill time was 17.33. Not good enough!

I lamented a couple of days, driving my family nuts. They don't do pity parties. Suck it up and stop talking about it. That is there modus operendi. And they of course reminded me that they've been telling me all year that I needed to push myself and run faster. And I kept shushing them with excuses. As the start line approaches, I now admit I was wrong and they were right.

I went wild plotting training strategies. Then I realized. There isn't time for what I would need to do. I searched the web and found a blog reporting that in this particular race, I may be able to buy myself some time if I can make my way up to the front of the corral, because the pace timer does not commence until the last person crosses the start line. So I have that glimmer of hope.

But really, I've never been in it to win it. I just want to finish it. If they do pull me out of the race, well, I had the courage to start. There will/may be other races. I just hope I don't cry because my husband who is an athlete (and will be starting in a faster corral) will not be sympathetic and I don't want to ruin our race-cation. This whole thing was my idea and he's coming along for the adventure. Acually, he's coming along for the food.