So, I Ran...

Ran my very first 5K "race" this morning. (By ran, you understand that I mean, "slogged along, snorting and snuffling", right?)

Anyhoo...I did it and despite my aching joints, I feel awesome. AWESOME!

42 minutes it took me...11 minutes less than it took me to traverse the same trail last week and only two minutes behind my friend Matt, who's a fellow Biggest Loser contestant and has been my slogging partner for weeks now.

Am I proud?

Hell, yes!

Do I like the photographic evidence of my still-too-heavy self, huffing and puffing, red-faced and sweating?

Uh, well...no.

But I'm still far, far too proud of myself NOT to post more of 'em here. Heh.

Plus, I'd like to offer up some of the more inane things that went through my mind as I took my first tentative steps into the Land of Fit:

As we warmed up, I glanced casually at blatantly sized-up the other participants, especially the super-fit ones sporting "fuel belts" and running gear, instead of maternity leggings and an old gray sweatshirt from Mark's Work Wearhouse, like me:

"I am a hippo. A hippo wearing a stupid hat. Have my thighs EVER been that slim? Heck, have my ARMS ever been as thin as her thighs?"



As we gathered in a lump at the starting point, jamming earphones in and swilling down more water, I thought:

"What the EFF is wrong with my left calf? Is it seizing, already? Why? WHY? I can't believe my leg is cramping already-freakin'-ready.....wait.....shit, we're starting! AGH!"

So, I ran.

As Miley Cyrus's "The Climb" filled my ears during the first few minutes of the run, I relaxed enough to enjoy her voice, gently urging me forward:

"This song was a good choice. What a great voice....I love this song....I love Miley's hair, too. Wish I had her hair. If I had hair like hers, I wouldn't care as much about being fat, I'll bet. Have I been running for 7 minutes already? Holy crap! I'VE BEEN RUNNING FOR 7 MINUTES WITHOUT SLOWING TO WALK!"

At 8 minutes, I slowed to a walk, having psyched myself out completely.


At the half-way point:

"I wonder if anyone would notice if I snuck across this giant expanse of lawn, instead of going around it, like they said to? Where's the water? Didn't they say there'd be water half way? I'm thirsty....dying of thirst here. I wonder if they'd let me win "Biggest Loser" posthumously..."

Mark pulled alongside me, tossed out a fresh bottle of water and a thumbs up, which propelled me through "Love the Way You Lie" by Rhianna and Eminen AND "F*ckin' Perfect" by Pink, before I slowed to a walk again.

Note to self: For next race, get fuel belt, in case Mark isn't always available for drive-by fill-ups.

Randomly, over the next 20 minutes or so:

"What the HELL is up with my left calf? Why, WHY does it do this?"

"Thank God there's a breeze, otherwise I'd look like a SWEATY hippo wearing leggings..."

"Effing hell,, this breeze is like a wall. How much slower am I going because of this wind? The wind IS the reason I'm going so slowly. It is SO!" (Nothing quite like arguing with myself, whilst trying to run and breathe at the same time)

"I suck. I suck so bad at this. This is stupid. I am going so slowly, I've lost sight of Matt. I am such a loser."

(Singing) "I know you've got a little life in you yet, I know you've got a lot of strength left..."

"Shit...was that out loud?"

"I see the park! It's the park....there's Matthew! Oh, Luke, are you swinging by yourSELF? That's so awesome! Crap, does Mark have the camera? SHIT...it IS the camera. Run faster, Liz.....run, damn it...there's a camera!"

Matthew joined me for about 15 seconds before waving me on

Moving so fast, I'm like a blur....heh.

I forged on, heading into the final kilometre feeling tired, but so happy to have seen my boys, had them see me doing something good and different. But parts of me hurt:

"I am going to saw my left calf off and toss it in the Bay, just as soon as I am finished this damned race. Ow, ow, ow, ow......"

"Is that the parking lot?!? It IS...the end is NIGH!"

"Ow, ow, ow.....why is breathing so freakin' DIFFICULT?"

Fumbling for favourite running song of all time, "Running Up That Hill" covered by Placebo"...

"Bring it, Bellymonster!"

Buoyed by the music and the breeze and the knowledge that within minutes, it would be over, I ran hard, feet and heart pounding, blood roaring in my ears.

Rounding the last curve, I spied the others:  I could see Matt and my friend Susan, who'd decided to join in this morning, waiting, cheering. Spotted my best friend, waving and hollering encouragement from the edge of the trail. I couldn't see the Reds or Mark, but felt them anyway and grinning, I pushed harder, waiting for the final surge of energy I'd been promised.

Alas.

I didn't have it, was too spent and instead sort of stumbled into the parking lot, only dimly aware of cheers and clapping and feeling a bit nauseous:

"Can't breathe. Can't speak. Must smile. There are cameras."

Heard, "42 minutes, 16!"

Looked at number pinned to my sweater: 16.

Blinked, trying to focus.

"That's ME! I'm 16! 42 minutes! Holy SHIT! I'm done! I did it! I'm done....ow, ow, ow, can't breathe, must breathe....can't.catch.breath.....I did it! Go, me!"

My friend, Susan.

Fellow "Biggest Loser" Matt Tweedy, who is an incredible
competitor and has kept me motivated. Thanks, Matty-Matt!

*       *      *

Maybe I'll keep my left calf after all.

I might need it.

There's another 5K run along the Waterfront in July and I think I can shave at least two minutes off my time...