I'm sure you are all on the edge of your seats wondering "Did she actually do it? Did she end up achieving her goal of becoming a whack-job runner?" The answer is, of course, yes. I am nothing if not goal-oriented. I would have hobbled the streets of Boulder with two broken feet just to accomplish the feat of running the Bolder Boulder, once I decided I was going to do it.
My race debut was not as glorious as some might imagine it. If you thought this was a story of a girl with a desk-job body magically transforming into an Olympic athlete, you thought wrong. Nope, I did not shed even 10 of my 30+ pounds of extra weight. This is no fairy tale. This is a real-life story involving a mere mortal who transformed her heart and mind to achieve something she otherwise did not think possible, and in the process, fell in love with running.
It was a drizzly Memorial Day morning in 2008. I had hardly slept that night, I was so nervous for the big day. 55,000 people ran the Bolder Boulder that day. My mind swirled at the thought of 55,000 people willing to run or walk 6 miles. The line for the porta potties rivaled the line for tickets to a Black Eyed Peas concert. There were grown women in tutus and grown men with spiked pink hair. The atmosphere was electric.
Our goal that day was simple: finish the race. Crazy Ass and I had run 5 miles on our last training run. This would be our first attempt at 6.2. Each week of training, we ran a little further than the last, taking walk breaks at each mile. We had discovered training routes with porta potties or bathrooms along the way - an important feature of a good trail for a new runner... Yeah, it's amazing how the body responds to stress. If you can figure out how to "just say no" to those bathroom breaks, you'll be able to run faster and farther. I learned to resist the urge, as well as the one to re-tie my shoe ten times to get it just right. Some other nuggets of wisdom from my early days:
1. Buy some decent running shoes. You can get fitted at a specialty running store. This is not an extravagance... it will save you hundreds of dollars in chiropractor and doctor visits along the way.
2. Find a long, flat running trail, with bathrooms.
3. Get a pacing device if you can. This can be a simple as a watch and mapmyrun.com. I love my Nike Sportband. It will tell you exactly what your pace and distance are.
4. Bring some water. The hotter the weather, the more you will need. It makes a huge difference in your performance.
5. Find a training partner. I couldn't have done it without Crazy Ass to help celebrate (and curse) every additional mile we ran.
Our wave started with a bang. I was amazed at how fast everyone took off. I immediately ditched my water bottle so I could focus my attention on running. It was my fastest mile yet, at about a 10 minute pace. We took a scheduled walk break at the 1 mile marker, downing some water, and then took off again. The remaining miles were quite bit slower than the first... Mile three is gruelling, with it's hilly meandering through the Boulder neighborhoods. Our saving grace was the entertainment along the route. We saw belly dancers, frat boys handing out cups of beer, little kids shooting us with squirt guns. What a riot! As we descended into downtown during mile 5, the feeling of euphoria took over. We were almost finished! Then we turned the corner toward the stadium, Folsom Field, where the race ends. We were about a mile out and our feeling of euphoria came to an abrupt end. The course flattened out and then began a gradual incline to the stadium. "My legs are dead," I said to Crazy Ass, and we slowed to a walk. We tried to run as much of the last mile as we could, but our exhaustion had taken hold. An old guy slowly passed us on the right. I'm pretty sure I saw my neighbor's four year old zip up the hill on our left.
By the time we got the stadium, I was wiped out. I could hear the crowd as I turned the corner into the stadium, and then I got my first look... the entire stadium was packed with spectators. Families lined the field high-fiving runners as they passed. Kids held signs that said "see Mom run" and "Good Job, Mom!" I could hardly contain my emotion as each of their faces became those of my own children, in my mind. I was determined to cross the finish line running, though; so, I gulped down my tears and kept on going.
Crazy Ass and I crossed the finished line together, with a time of 1 hour 30 minutes. We looked at eachother with tears in our eyes. "We did it!" we said, in chorus, high-fiving as the race volunteers guided us through the finish gates to the post-race food and beer.
I have never been prouder of a race than I was on that day. If I didn't say it aloud, I will say it now: I love you, Crazy Ass! Thank you for giving me the gift of running. I couldn't have done it without you.
My race debut was not as glorious as some might imagine it. If you thought this was a story of a girl with a desk-job body magically transforming into an Olympic athlete, you thought wrong. Nope, I did not shed even 10 of my 30+ pounds of extra weight. This is no fairy tale. This is a real-life story involving a mere mortal who transformed her heart and mind to achieve something she otherwise did not think possible, and in the process, fell in love with running.
It was a drizzly Memorial Day morning in 2008. I had hardly slept that night, I was so nervous for the big day. 55,000 people ran the Bolder Boulder that day. My mind swirled at the thought of 55,000 people willing to run or walk 6 miles. The line for the porta potties rivaled the line for tickets to a Black Eyed Peas concert. There were grown women in tutus and grown men with spiked pink hair. The atmosphere was electric.
Our goal that day was simple: finish the race. Crazy Ass and I had run 5 miles on our last training run. This would be our first attempt at 6.2. Each week of training, we ran a little further than the last, taking walk breaks at each mile. We had discovered training routes with porta potties or bathrooms along the way - an important feature of a good trail for a new runner... Yeah, it's amazing how the body responds to stress. If you can figure out how to "just say no" to those bathroom breaks, you'll be able to run faster and farther. I learned to resist the urge, as well as the one to re-tie my shoe ten times to get it just right. Some other nuggets of wisdom from my early days:
1. Buy some decent running shoes. You can get fitted at a specialty running store. This is not an extravagance... it will save you hundreds of dollars in chiropractor and doctor visits along the way.
2. Find a long, flat running trail, with bathrooms.
3. Get a pacing device if you can. This can be a simple as a watch and mapmyrun.com. I love my Nike Sportband. It will tell you exactly what your pace and distance are.
4. Bring some water. The hotter the weather, the more you will need. It makes a huge difference in your performance.
5. Find a training partner. I couldn't have done it without Crazy Ass to help celebrate (and curse) every additional mile we ran.
Our wave started with a bang. I was amazed at how fast everyone took off. I immediately ditched my water bottle so I could focus my attention on running. It was my fastest mile yet, at about a 10 minute pace. We took a scheduled walk break at the 1 mile marker, downing some water, and then took off again. The remaining miles were quite bit slower than the first... Mile three is gruelling, with it's hilly meandering through the Boulder neighborhoods. Our saving grace was the entertainment along the route. We saw belly dancers, frat boys handing out cups of beer, little kids shooting us with squirt guns. What a riot! As we descended into downtown during mile 5, the feeling of euphoria took over. We were almost finished! Then we turned the corner toward the stadium, Folsom Field, where the race ends. We were about a mile out and our feeling of euphoria came to an abrupt end. The course flattened out and then began a gradual incline to the stadium. "My legs are dead," I said to Crazy Ass, and we slowed to a walk. We tried to run as much of the last mile as we could, but our exhaustion had taken hold. An old guy slowly passed us on the right. I'm pretty sure I saw my neighbor's four year old zip up the hill on our left.
By the time we got the stadium, I was wiped out. I could hear the crowd as I turned the corner into the stadium, and then I got my first look... the entire stadium was packed with spectators. Families lined the field high-fiving runners as they passed. Kids held signs that said "see Mom run" and "Good Job, Mom!" I could hardly contain my emotion as each of their faces became those of my own children, in my mind. I was determined to cross the finish line running, though; so, I gulped down my tears and kept on going.
Crazy Ass and I crossed the finished line together, with a time of 1 hour 30 minutes. We looked at eachother with tears in our eyes. "We did it!" we said, in chorus, high-fiving as the race volunteers guided us through the finish gates to the post-race food and beer.
I have never been prouder of a race than I was on that day. If I didn't say it aloud, I will say it now: I love you, Crazy Ass! Thank you for giving me the gift of running. I couldn't have done it without you.
2 comments:
Hey Girlie - great blog!
xoxo
Thanks, Linda Lou! I've finally figured out how to make a comment on my own blog - LOL!
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