Sometimes it's just not your day. Sometimes you have a crappy race. Sometimes you can find excuses for why it wasn't a good day. And sometimes you kind of don't really care, and you just want to move on and hope that the next one is better - and that's where I am today.
I have to be honest and say that my head was not in a good place for this from the time I got up yesterday morning. I woke up tired, and feeling like I was coming down with the same cold Gabe has had for a few days. It was rainy and humid and warmer than I had hoped it would be - the air was thick and uncomfortable.
I didn't want to race. Frankly, I didn't even want to run.
As I drove to the race, I kept thinking about how I didn't want to endure the hurt I knew I was in for. Racing a 5K hurts - a lot. It starts the second the gun sounds, and it doesn't let up.
The negativity in my head was overwhelming. I kept thinking about how I haven't felt all that driven lately - how racing has been an afterthought, and how vague and undefined my goals have been.
I kept thinking about how tired I felt, and how much easier it would be to just run whatever pace felt good and pretend I was happy with that. But I knew I wouldn't be happy with it. I'd be mad at myself for giving up.
So I tried - I really tried - to turn it around. I thought about all the track workouts I've been doing, and the fast paces I've been running. I thought about the fact that it was looking to be a smaller field, and I had a good shot at winning an age-group award. I thought about how much I wanted a good 5K experience, after how unpleasant the last one was.
I picked up my number, did my warmup, said hi to some friends, and waited for the start. There were some pre-race nerves, but it was more just a blah feeling that I couldn't shake.
I couldn't shake the thought that 5Ks just aren't my thing anymore, and racing in general hasn't been my thing lately. The drive to compete hasn't really been there, and it feels odd. I don't quite feel like myself - but at the same time, there's a part of me that feels like I'm not really missing out on anything. I'm running, and I'm kind of training, and I mostly feel like "eh, whatever.....," and I'm mostly ok with that.
And I think the only reason I'm not totally ok with that is because it's so different from the mindset I've had for such a long time. Everything I've done for so long has been wholly focused on races, and PRs, and race goals, and beating the competition and winning age-group awards.
It feels strange to not be in that place at the moment - to be so laid back and relaxed about everything. But I'm trying to come to terms with it, because I don't feel like I can fight it. I feel like it's just where I need to be right now, and this is my body's way of telling me that it's saving up the fight and the drive and the determination for this winter (hopefully), when I dive into my Boston training.
It's tough to let go of that, though, so there was a part of me that hoped, at the starting line yesterday, that I could somehow pull off a good performance. But it was a small part, and the second I started running, it immediately started fading off into the distance.
Despite being a small field, the first couple hundred yards were in the highschool parking lot, and it was a little crowded, so I wasn't concerned that my pace was well over 7 minutes. I told myself starting conservatively was a good thing. There were tons of kids at this race, which was fun to see, and I loved watching them all make their way down the fast first mile.
That first mile is mostly downhill, and I thought that once I found some clear space to run, I'd find myself going too fast. But not today. My Garmin was still registering over 7 minutes per mile. I was kind of bummed, but still thinking that maybe I was just saving it for the second half.
I hit mile 1 in 7:04. I know this isn't 'slow.' But given that my 5K PR is a sub-7 pace, a 7:04 was a little disappointing. I was truly giving it my all, though, and didn't quite know how I'd run any faster.
I tried, as I ran the stretch down to the turnaround, made it around the cones, and headed back to the mile 2 marker. I passed a bunch of people between miles 1 and 2, but I was feeling pretty rotten. The air was so thick, and although it wasn't hot, it felt very uncomfortable. I didn't want to be running. I wanted to stop and walk.
After mile 2, I let go of my time goals. I had run mile 2 in 7:12. There was no way in hell I was going to even come close to a PR today, and I knew it.
I had 1.1 miles to go, and I was already running on fumes. There was honestly no reason not to stop.
Except for this one -
I wanted to, but I didn't. And I thought about this quote, and this image, which I posted the other day on my Facebook page.
And even though my finishing time was nowhere near what I thought it would be, and even though I'm mad at how poorly I ran, I'm proud that I didn't quit. I didn't let up. As much as it sucked, I kept pushing.
Ran mile 3 in 7:02, and then I was on the track for the final .1.
I willed my legs to give me one final kick to the finish, and I finally got my sub-7, running the last .1 at a 6:48 pace.
Done. Spent. Exhausted. Bummed. But mostly just glad it was over.
Ran a 2-mile cooldown, talked with friends, collected my age-group prize (gift certificate to the local running store - yay!), and my raffle prize (gift certificate to Perform Better - more cool running/fitness gear), and tried to brush off the fact that I had just run my slowest 5K in over a year.
And I'm still in the process of trying to brush it off. Many people commented on Facebook that my 'slow' time would be their dream time - and I get that, I really do. A few years ago, if you had told me I'd be disappointed with a sub-22 5K, I would have told you you were crazy.
But one of the things I love most about running is setting goals and working towards those goals and eventually crushing those goals. And when I'm not able to do that, it bugs me a little (or a lot). I'm supposed to be getting faster, not slower - right???? Or maybe I'm not?
As I drove home, my mind kept wandering toward thoughts of whether or not I'm cut out for 5Ks. Maybe I'm more suited to long distances? Maybe I should run 5Ks with my kids from now on, and just treat them as fun runs? Maybe I'm just getting older and slower and I need to accept that? This is the possibility that upsets me the most. I don't feel like I should be at that point yet - the inevitable age-related downward slide of my performance is going to happen eventually, but I really didn't think it would happen at 42!
I'm still not entirely sure what the answer is, and not at all sure what I can expect from my next 5K. I don't have one on the horizon anytime soon, nor do I have any desire to do one anytime soon. And I'm kind of ambivalent about it - like I am about a lot of my goals lately.
I hope the drive and the ambition come back in time for Boston training, because I do want that to be a great race. But right now, I can't really get too far ahead of myself.
What I need to do now is just focus on the next run, because that's what I have control over.
And I also need to focus on the big picture. The picture that reminds me that it's not only about the time on the clock. It's about what this sport has brought to my life - focus, fun, confidence, joy, and friends.
At the end of the day, I have to be thankful for that, because that's why I get out there and lace up my shoes. And I have to remember that I'm fortunate to be able to do so.
I'm also extremely fortunate that I'm in the process of turning my love for this sport into a job, something I never would have thought possible.
I am currently working with my first client (!!!!!), and have two other possibile clients I'm speaking with. So maybe it's good that it's not all about me right now.
Maybe this is why I'm ok with not chasing down my own goals - it's time for me to help other people chase theirs : )
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