Nashville, TN: In my latest attempt de jour to get in shape, I joined the East Nasty For Life running group. Ok, I use "join" lightly. In fact, this is only the second time I've showed up at 11th & Holly at 6pm on a Wednesday (with about 100 other people) to run the pre-planned course that night. I've been exercising off and on for... well, my whole life, I guess, if you include dance classes back in pre-pubescent ages. But the running thing started a few years back when it was either that or kill myself. Not to be overly dramatic, but I had to get out the pent up energy and frustration that was brewing inside, so I turned to running for release. And white wine. But that's another blog.
I got my stride to a 10 minute mile, completed two
5Ks, then promptly put my running shoes in the back of the closet. Though the running bug has not exactly bitten again, the ENFL group was enough inspiration to at least get moving (that, along with my Nike+ shoes and iPod Sport Kit).
So, this Wednesday, I begin my run and try to stay somewhat in the middle of the herd so I am surrounded by people who won't let me fall back into leisurely stroll. Actually, they don't really care what I do, but I'm mentally psyching myself into the challenge. I push the center button. The Nike+ man tells me I'm running a 8.5 minute mile. Awesome! Best time ever! Then comes a hill. Uh oh. My pace slips a bit and others start passing me, but I haven't lost all hope. The sweat starts to fall a bit. Good. Burning calories. Excellent.
After 15 more minutes or so, I'm really noticing that I am out of breath. I walk a bit. Damnit. I didn't want to walk. I see most of the group in front of me now. There's a big gap in between the group ahead of me and the group I'm in. Brings me back to the days of grade school sports (yes, Dad made me play basketball, volleyball AND softball. I knew he had dreams for a boy... or
at least a tomboy, but he got stuck with a pom pon dancer who loved boy bands. Oh well... they should have had another! But I digress). I was told, as an 8th grader, I was going to be in the 7th grade volleyball team. But I would be at the TOP of the 7th grade team. But they weren't fooling me. Even if I was #1 of the not-as-good team, I was still IN the not as good team. So, here I am, in the LEAD of the 2nd group of runners... but still in the 2nd group of runners.
I see a small hill where the first group is running around. I take my chances of getting busted (do they really bust people in a non-competitive running event?) and run down the hill to meet up with the first group, now curving back around the hill. Whatever. I would have cheated in volleyball too if I could have.
So, now I'm back in the midst of my people (first group, that is), trying to not hyperventilate and ignore the fact that I'm only about halfway done and I have to poo (I knew I forgot to do something before I left home!). Suddenly, a cool breeze covers my body (thank you God!) and I feel a single drop of rain on the tip of my nose. Before I can even think, "are my new Nikes waterproof?" the heavens open and the summer rain begins to fall. What I was hoping to be a wave of cool relief turned into a blinding dowpour. I had to move my prescription sunglasses (which were now null & void) on top of my head because the water was filling up in the lenses. I am completely soaked, partially blind and under no false illusion that I will be able to make it to the finish line before next week's race begins.
Best moment was that there was an East Nasty-er stopping every now and then to capture the run digitally. It was enjoyable to see him taking photos of the dogs & their owners that passed me with ease. It was even more super to see them posted on Facebook when I got home later that night.
I'm the one in blue... oh yeah, not in FRONT, but the small, waterlogged, scowling image in the back.
But somehow, I managed to pull off running 4.41 miles with an overall pace of 9'5"/mi. NO idea how that worked, but needless to say, it's just enough motivation to get me back next week. That, and the following (in no particular order):
More to come! I hope....
After 15 more minutes or so, I'm really noticing that I am out of breath. I walk a bit. Damnit. I didn't want to walk. I see most of the group in front of me now. There's a big gap in between the group ahead of me and the group I'm in. Brings me back to the days of grade school sports (yes, Dad made me play basketball, volleyball AND softball. I knew he had dreams for a boy... or at least a tomboy, but he got stuck with a pom pon dancer who loved boy bands. Oh well... they should have had another! But I digress). I was told, as an 8th grader, I was going to be in the 7th grade volleyball team. But I would be at the TOP of the 7th grade team. But they weren't fooling me. Even if I was #1 of the not-as-good team, I was still IN the not as good team. So, here I am, in the LEAD of the 2nd group of runners... but still in the 2nd group of runners.