Best movie from the 1990s, right? Okay, definitely one of the best. Who doesn’t love a Jamaican bobsled team?
To answer your immediate question, no. I did not join the Jamaican bobsled team. They told me I was just too see-through in the winter and my accent was off. Better luck next time.
I did, however, knock another one of my goals off from my 30 Before 30 list. I ran not one, not two, but THREE races this year, and I frickin’ ran them. Sure, there were definitely a few moments of walking, but I didn’t do it that much. Maybe a minute or two here or there, and certainly less than a mile total per race.
The first race was the one that meant the most to me. I was running it by myself; no one else was buddied up with me, and I wanted it that way. I do a lot better when I can set my own pace and pick out people in the crowd of runners to beat. You in the pink hat? I don’t like the way your ponytail is swinging. I’m going to beat you now. Dear dude ahead of me, you kind of smell from back here. Peace out. It was even worse when I knew the guy who stunk during the third race… side note: I was related to him.
The race started bright and early on a relatively cool June morning. It was the morning my seniors would be graduating from high school. It was an emotionally loaded day. B made me some toast and peanut butter, put together with a side of aspirin to help control the feeling created in my throat when I run. (I have been told this may be part of asthma, maybe not. Super helpful, doctor people…). I put on my new running shoes and jumped in the car for the short drive to the registration area.
I wore a t-shirt I made with my colleagues for Winter Carnival two years ago. It was the first t-shirt I had with my married name on the back. This would be the first time I got to achieve a running goal with my married name. It sounded like a good combination. And, of course, I had to wear my pink running shorts. Who doesn’t want to run in those.
My mom and dad came to cheer me on with B. My mom wonders where some of my cousins and I got the running motivation because no one in her set of siblings runs. I haven’t the foggiest. We just have goals, and some of them involve running.
When the race started, I wanted to make sure that I paced myself to run most of it. There were little kids running the race in bare feet. This race took place through the downtown areas of TWO CITIES. Note to self: When I have kids, they will not run races in cities with bare feet. No. The first song on my iPod to randomly play was Kelly Clarkson’s “Stronger.” Thanks for the pep talk, Kelly. Much appreciated! I didn’t end up walking until a little after the second mile marker. Not too shabby.
The end was a little rough, but as I rounded the last corner and ran along the river portion of the course, my iPod decided to have a sense of humor again. Anyone remember this somewhat inappropriate song?
How did my mom let me listen to this when I was 14? Questionable. Very questionable. Either way, it came on for the “liquid” part of my race finish. I kicked it into gear for the rest of the race, and ended up coming in with a time that surprised me. 29:48. I was under a half an hour! Sweet! Oh, and yes, I will take some water now, thanks.After getting the first one in, I wanted to see just how well I could run the Four on the Fourth (a race in our hometown on the fourth of July). I told B we would be running the first mile, and then we would only separate at the two mile marker. Well… once I started running the first mile, I was gone. Sorry, hunny. I walked a good portion of second mile to wait for him, but he never showed up. So I ran. And walked a little. And ran some more.
And guess what? For the first time, I beat B. By three minutes. Do you know how long three minutes is? When it’s the first time you beat your husband in a race, it’s a frickin’ long time! I was pleased.
The third race wasn’t so great only because I didn’t pace myself correctly and blew it. Womp womp. But I finished, and I am still glad I ran it. You can’t beat your time every single time, right?
Running is turning into something nice for me, and I can proudly say that I have proven my high school field hockey coach wrong. Oh so wrong. She said the last day of field hockey practice my senior year would be my last day holding a stick. She also said that I just wasn’t cut out to run. You know what? Now that I am 26, I can confidently say, “
Suck it. You have no idea what you are talking about.” Happy early early early early 30th birthday to me!