Pi Day 5K 2012

So, my first 5K was the Pi Day 5K in 2012.

I did the Couch to 5K program on a treadmill.  Mostly.  Okay, so I got bored at W3D3 and just decided to run/walk whenever the hell it suited me.  Shoot me.

Anyhow, I figured I could at least walk the silly thing, if nothing else.  And hey ... it raised funds for a cause that's very near and dear to my heart:  MATH!

Anyhow, my lovely husband entertained getting up early to cheer me on.  And when I say it was freezing outside ... I mean it was FREEZING.  Literally, it was 32 degrees outside, and I thought to myself "hey self, you'll get cold.  You should dress in layers!"  So I did.  Needless to say, I made like a stripper throughout the run.

Caffeine, check. Protein, check.  Sanity?  Nope.

First up:  the breakfast of champions.  I am "soy sensitive", so I have to be careful about what I eat.  Perfect Foods Bars are OMG DELISH, gluten-free, and soy-free.  I highly recommend them.

And really, I can't survive without caffeine.  Ever since I was a teenager, I've all but mainlined anything caffeinated.  Back in the day yo, I used to be all about the Jolt Cola.  I really don't like coffee, but will drink it if I'm really tired.  And we wonder why I go through gallons of tea a week?  Sheesh.

Anyhow, I needed the caffeine from the Coke and the protein from the bar.  In hindsight, I should have downed some tea with the bar, because I swear I belched like a drunken sailor for the first mile or so of the run.  Klassy.

Lined up with the rest of the sloths.

When we got to the park, I was a little overwhelmed.  I mean, who thought THIS was a good idea?  Luckily, I'd chosen a good run for my first race.  This was geared toward kids and families ... and I noticed that I wasn't the fluffiest person there.  Score!  They did a little speech before the start, told people to line up, the hardcore runner types shoved to the front under the arch (note just how far back my sloth-like self queued up), and then we were off when the air horn blew.  I hit play on my ceremonial run-starting song ("Kickstart My Heart" by Motley Crue, in case you were curious), and I started off at my pre-determined 16-minute mile pace.

This is easy.

At the end of the first mile, I was thinking to myself, "this shit's easy.  I'm so awesome."  I was about 15-ish minutes into the run, and I felt pretty damn good.  I was starting to get hot, so I took off my ear warmers.

I'm feeling a little like this sign.

As I rolled up onto the second mile marker, I'd noted that I'd thrown in a few walk breaks.  My tubby butt wasn't in as good of shape as I thought.  I saw this sign that had blown over and I thought "ugh, I feel a bit like this.  But hey - there's the water stop up ahead!"  I don't know that I've ever been motivated by water before, but there's a first time for everything.  The gloves I was wearing?  Gone.  And is my asscrack getting sweaty?

Seriously.  Three miles? That's IT?!?

When I stumbled toward the third mile marker, I thought to myself, "well, if I die, they can just roll me over and eventually I'll just land in the river."  My back was hurting down by my tramp stamp (don't you judge me), and my pace had slowed to a miserable 25 minute mile.  I was pushing through the last bit, because damn it, I was going to finish.  Somewhere between mile 2 and 3, I had taken off my jacket and tied it around my waist.  I think.

I look derpy.  But I don't care.  I FINISHED.  Suck it, haters.

And finally ... FINALLY ... I came up the last hill and saw the finish line.  I refused to walk across the line - so I kind of did this running / stumbling / waddling hybrid thing.  My first race finish photo!  I'm so proud.

Clearly, I wasn't too embarrassed.  I have kept running, after all.  But you know what they say ... you never forget your first time.