It's tomorrow!

So it's the day before my first 5k race ever (eek!), and I'm super excited! I know that to some of you super-athletic types, 5 kilometers is no big deal. You're thinking, "3.1 miles? I could do that in my sleep with a broken leg!" If that's the case, then just imagine that I'm talking about my first marathon, or iron man or triathalon or something that sounds daunting to you.

You see, in high school, I never ran more than a mile and that was only when I was forced to. And at the end of the mile I would always collapse in exhaustion after expending all of my energy for the 12 or so minutes that it took me to complete it. I was not a runner. And that's what I've been telling myself for the last 10 years. I am not a runner. I can't run, I don't like to run, I'm not going to run. I used to say that if I was being chased by a pack of wild dogs, I'd just stand there and let them eat me, because I'd rather my last few seconds on earth be spent not running (I realized that then I wouldn't be chased, because a chase usually involves two parties running or at least moving, but just bear with me, people. Don't get focused on the semantics).

Then boot camp came along, and we ran at least 2 or 3 times a week. And guess what? I hated it! Every second. I was a major baby and fought my PT instructors every step of the way (sorry, Logan and Jana). But something happened through that horrid experience. I realized that I could do more than I thought I could do. My body could do more than my mind had decided I could do. I just had to tell my mind to shut up. And so, after boot camp, I began to work out on my own at the gym, pushing myself a little harder each time I went. Before I knew it I was running a mile without walking. And then two miles. And then three miles! That's as far as I've gotten so far, but I'm fairly sure I can do more if I keep at it. It's pretty amazing, folks. Pretty amazing.

As I mentioned before, this race is at 5:30 in the afternoon. NASTY! So Joy and I have been practicing running outside in the afternoon to get used to the heat. It has not been enjoyable, guys. Tuesday was really bad. The sun was shining right on us, there was virtually no breeze, and if the humidity could have been 125% I think it would have been. The route we chose was actually only 2.5 miles, but we're pretty sure that it was a tougher route than the one we'll be running tomorrow for a couple of reasons: 1) We have hills. I know that everyone thinks Oklahoma is flat, and for the most part it is. But I'll be danged if the only hills in the whole darn state aren't clustered right around our neighborhood! There's not a flat 3 miles anywhere! 2) At least part of the road we ran on was sand. Joy showed me a dirt road that's just past where we live. I'd run by it plenty of times but had never gone down it. It's a great little road, but something about this "great" state that I currently live in is that the earth doesn't know the difference between dirt and sand. Dirt is supposed to be on the ground pretty much everywhere. Sand is supposed to be only near water and in sandboxes. But around here, you start digging in the middle of your yard and you'll either hit nasty red dirt that stains everything you're wearing or you'll hit sand. It's crazy, I know. But what's even crazier is running uphill in sand. Not a fun experience, guys. Especially when the uphill sand part is in the last half mile of your run, where you're already so tired you're not sure if you're going to make it.

But make it we did (yesterday). We ended up running that hilly, sandy 2.5 miles in right around 30 minutes, which means we averaged about a 12-minute mile. Not overly impressive, I'll admit, but I'm slow. I always have been and I always will be (stay tuned, knowing my track record with making definitive statements about myself, I'll have to eat those words in a few years when I start training for something else and accidentally break the sound barrier). I'm just proud of myself (and of Joy!) for not walking. We kept moving the whole time, never slowed down to walk, never stopped for a break. I think if we can do 2.5 sandy, hilly miles, we can definitely do 3.1 concretey, flat miles. No problem.

Bad part, my toe is KILLING me! If you've seen me personally in the last few weeks, I've probably complained about my toe to you and made you look at it. Sorry. I thought black toenails and the like were only reserved for serious runners, not people running 10 miles a week! Yet, for whatever reason, my poor toe has really suffered. I lost my toenail last week at some point, the rest of the toe is now covered in callouses and blisters. It's really bad. It hurt all last night while I was in bed, and then hurt even worse when I got up today. Fortunately it doesn't hurt when I run on it. Or maybe it does and I just don't notice it. That might be another one of the things I'm telling my brain to shut up about. Whatever. I just hope nothing bad happens to it. I'd hate to have to go to the doctor over a stupid toe because it got infected or the toenail grew in wrong or something. It might just be easier to cut it off. We'll see about that.

Anyway, my race is tomorrow at 5:30, so even if you can't be there, do a little mini-cheer for me wherever you are and I'll be encouraged, I'm sure. I'm looking forward to seeing my family, too, even if it's only for a few hours. Oh, and if anyone has any wisdom that they've gained from their racing/running experience, I'd love to hear it. Post it here or on facebook. Peace out, guys, have a good weekend!