Blogger insists on posting my photos in the reverse order than I uploaded them, and I should have remembered but I didn't.
Last Saturday was my 5k run. The one that I have been focused on almost since I started running in the spring. Saturday was an amazing day, a highly emotional day, for me.
I woke up feeling fresh and ready to go. The weather was perfect. There wasn't any rain during the run, but there was enough chill in the air to keep me from overheating. And yet, it wasn't so cold that I needed to dress more warmly than I am used to so far.
The first wave of emotion hit me shortly before the run began, when I spotted my friend. I'll be honest. I was hoping, desperately, that some friends would come to cheer me on. I knew that my husband and kids would be there, as well as my parents, but I really wanted non-family friendly faces in the crowds. As much as I wanted friends there, I had not heard that any would be there, and, by the time I moved into the starting chute, I had pretty much given up hope that anyone else would come. I was disappointed, although I don't think I fully realized how much so until I saw K and the tears threatened to blind me. It is probably good that I didn't have the luxury of time to move over and chat with her properly, but I was so glad to see her.
While waiting for the run to begin, a young girl, positioned beside me, asked me if I had done this run before. I told her that I had not and asked if she had. Her answer was the same as mine, but it was a timely reminder that I was not the only rookie out there.
The second emotional wave washed over me shortly after the run began, no more than 4-500 metres from the start. There was no other reason except the emotion of the moment and the realization that I was doing something amazing! Okay, so I know that there are many who might not think running a 5k is much of an accomplishment at all. After all, 5k is a far cry from the 21.1k of a half-marathon or the 42.2k of a marathon. It's kind of like comparing a hamburger to filet-mignon. More on that further on.
I managed to run about a kilometre and a half or so before the next wave of emotion threatened my composure. This time the cause was much easier to figure out. My husband and sons were standing on the sidelines, with a 'go mom' sign and camera in hand. No sooner had I regained control than I saw my parents on the sidelines, and I had to struggle for composure again. My daughter and her friend were just slightly further down the road, but my composure was fine, although I cannot explain why.
The run, in general, was good. I did not stop or walk at all, nor did I feel too heavily taxed. It was a good run! There have been days, over the past several months, where running was a struggle, mentally and physically. In fact, that was one of my biggest worries heading into this event. What if I had one of those tough run days? But everything was good, even my hips. That was another big worry-the dreaded, painful hips. They held up well though, which was a blessing indeed.
Although the 5k event was not a timed race, I kept an eye on my watch to keep track of my own pace. The first kilometre was surprisingly fast for me...under 6 minutes! The second kilometre was still respectable but slower. The third kilometre was between the two previous split times. I cannot recall the time for the fourth kilometre, although I suspect that it was possibly slower than the third kilometre. My final time was 31 minutes, 33 seconds, which is a personal best time! I had enough in me to push a little harder in that final kilometre, especially the final 500 metres.
Emotion choked me up again when my husband came to hug and congratulate me. I was also wheezing a bit, which was something new, but my breathing settled down quickly and I was fine.
The whole experience was amazing! My emotions were on edge for the rest of the day. Literally. I went home and puttered about the house preparing for the next day's Thanksgiving dinner, but tears were ready to spring at any given moment. Maybe I'm just an emotional wreck at times. I don't know, but I do know that this day was the pinnacle, the climax of several months of hard work and determination.
I really only started running in May of this year. It began without any real focus, but I soon decided to register for this event, as a way to keep myself from quitting when the going got tough. Before I realized it, I discovered that I was desperate to do this. It was no longer just something I wanted to do. I had to do it. For me.
Getting to this event was a long journey that spanned only a few months. It involved running 2 to 4 times a week from June through to the beginning of October. I had to deal with stiff muscles, burning lungs, and lack of endurance in those early days. Then came a strained calf muscle, recurring hip pain, and shin pain, possibly shin splints. There were those difficult running days, where my goal seemed so unreachable. There were the good days, where I felt like I was so close to my goal I could almost taste it, whatever that may taste like. I had days where I had to drag myself out for a run, especially these past few weeks, when fatigue was so deep in my bones. But I made it.
And that is why there was so much emotion for me that day! I had set a tough goal, worked hard, and reached that goal...with a personal best time! I didn't quit or give up, because it was too hard or too exhausting. I didn't find excuses to cop out. I accomplished what I set out to do, and it was so worth all the effort. It was an emotional experience, because I was so proud of myself, and I had every reason to feel that pride. I don't know that I have ever truly felt such pride in myself for anything. I certainly cannot recall ever having accomplished a feat requiring determination and hard work like that before.
I am proud of myself and rightly so!
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