Otherwise known as... the
first? race in this training cycle that kick my pansy ass.
1. I was actually excited about this race.
I hadn't ran a 15K in YEARS and considering the fact that I think the Half Marathon is my distance, I assumed that a 15K would be right in my wheelhouse these days.
Lesson Learned: Going into a race with a cocky attitude, like you're going to be schooling bitches all day is just setting yourself up for failure.
2. Getting stuck behind a fuckton of slower runners at the start.
This race started 10 minutes after a 5K started. The 15K had to share a lane with the 5Kers on their way back. THE ROAD IS NOT THAT BIG. UGH. So, of course, I ran my first mile in like 7:20 instead of the 7:45ish that I was planning on.
Lesson Learned: Look at the course maps before the race and either line up closer to the front, or just try to adjust strategy to start out even slower and not worry about all the people that are in front of me lollygagging
(particularly because they all ended up passing me in the last 2 miles of the fucking race because I was dying).
3. Engaging in a Battle Royale at miles 1-2 with the woman who would eventually win the damn thing.
After I had passed everyone that I felt like I needed to pass in the first 5 minutes of the race, I settled into a good spot and put cruise control on. Until some woman ran up to me. I'm sure that I instinctually picked up my pace a bit when she got there (duh). But instead of just powering by me, she settled in right next to me. I'd speed up a bit to lose her... she'd speed up. I'd slow down a bit to shake her... she'd slow down. I'd move to the left to avoid something on the road, she'd STAY IN HER SAME SPOT. And if I had to move further away from her, she'd move CLOSER TO ME. At this point, we had the whole road and she was on me like white on rice. It was driving me crazy. Finally, I was like... fine bitch, you wanna race. LET'S RACE. And I picked it up and tried to hang on.
I could hear her coughing and clearing her throat a bit and I thought to myself... ohhhh... yes... I got this bitch. Because, I was feeling good. I was ready to school bitches. We ran past a water stop and neither of us stopped. We were neck-in-neck for two miles. Eventually, I pulled ahead a couple of steps of her and she let me stay there and then she pulled ahead and blasted by me. And then she eventually ended up passing ALL the women ahead of us and winning the damn thing.
Lesson Learned: Don't let some bitch determine your race pace THAT EARLY IN THE RACE. I was so pissed at her... trying to RACE me at such an early point in the race. But, I guess, I was just as guilty... letting her duel me.
4. Letting myself just get more and more disgusted with myself.
By mile 4 or so, I was toast. And instead of just letting that go and trying to focus on finishing the race, I kept telling myself in my head how shitty I was and how terrible I felt. Which just made me feel worse and more shitty.
Lesson Learned: RUN, don't think!
5. Skipping all the water stops.
It was an unseasonably warm day and after my warm-up, getting ready to line up in the corral, my friend Jeff commented: "You look like you've already raced." Translation: Whoa, bitch... why are you already sweating your ass off?
Lesson Learned: Uh, it's hot out... DRINK SOME DAMN WATER.
6. A 250 calorie Breakfast before a 9 mile race isn't probably enough.
I just completely ran out of gas. Between that and the water and the sweating... I was practically hallucinating the last few miles. Although, I don't think I hallucinated The KoB's encouraging
/disgusted look at me when the 500th girl easily passed me with about a mile to go.
Lesson Learned: Food is fuel, bitch.
In the end I finished with a very disappointing time. I went from the 6th female overall around mile 4 to not even placing in my age group. It was disgusting, it felt terrible and frankly, it was embarrassing. I just completely collapsed out there.
The KoB was nice enough to run out and pace me for the last
4-5 miles or so. JUST IN TIME TO WITNESS MY COLLAPSE.
See those fuckers behind me?
Yeah, I'm sure they passed me, too.
EVERYONE PASSED ME.
My race sucked ass. But, as soon as I crossed the finish line and caught my breath and got over my disgusting performance, I asked The KoB how the 5K went...
"Meh." He replied.
"Did you PR?"
"Did you win?"
"Did you place?"
The KoB at the start of his race.
Stalking his prey.
Finally, I gave up and walked over to the results board.
HE FUCKING WON THE DAMN THING.
At least we had something to celebrate. And honestly, I think having a bad race day was good for me. It reminded me that racing well doesn't come easy. I have to work for it and the stars have to align in just the right way
or ya know, I just have to not be an asshat and make stupid mistakes.