New Year's Day

The first day of the New Year arrived with little fanfare.  My husband and I had avoided opening a bottle of champagne and any parties to be able to get to bed at a reasonable hour.  We had decided it would be more fun to Run into the New Year with a 10K race in London at 11am on the morning of the first day of the year.  The race would take us through Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens.

We woke to the wind rattling the windows in their cases and the tinkling of the rain against the glass.  Unperturbed, we prepped for the race with a proper breakfast (all carbs for me) and dressed in what we thought would be appropriate layers for the weather.

I don't know what I was thinking, but I honestly believed that I would be fine with just a regular running t-shirt under my long-sleeved running top.  Then I chose capris length yoga pants rather than my trusty fleece pants from Costco.  As we drove into the city where we actually parked in a lot right at Hyde Park, I was huddled in the car with all the vents blasting heat at me and a fleece jacket keeping me from shivering away all of my energy.  I left the warmth of the car to head into the park with the fleece still swaddling me, but it was soon time to leave our backpacks filled with dry clothes and towels (because I knew I would be soaked by the end of this event).  I had to decide if I would run with the fleece on or if I would brave the elements without it.  I tucked it in my bag, handed it over and looked pleadingly at my husband who folded me into a hug to keep me warm.  I spent most of the next 30 minutes until the race started looking for a hug to revive me.  As other runners were stretching, jogging in place and doing other prerace warm up activities, I was crouched in a ball position trying to keep all warmth from being blown away.  I justified this position as "stretching my calf muscles." 

I have no idea how many people were in this race, but I know that a lot of them finished it before me.  I did finish it.  Considering I suggested waiting in the car while my husband ran it, this is a real accomplishment.  We didn't run together as I run at a pace at least one minute if not two minutes slower than him.  I also impressed upon him how I would not feel encouraged by him cheering me on at the end, but would rather see this as him taunting me.  He would be saying things like, "you look great!  You are almost there! You can do it!"  but I would hear, "Ha Ha!  I am done and you aren't!" 

As I ran the race, I fell in with a few others running at about the same pace.  There was a woman near me who was cheery enough that she was thanking all of the people who had volunteered to Marshall the race.  I just tried not to look like I was going to need them to call 999 for an emergency van to rescue me.  As the race progressed, so did the wind and the rain.  At the far side of the race, you were in the open where the rain felt like an assault.  The worse part was that you had to do a 2K loop in the race that meant you went along this particular stretch twice.  The one thing that really pushed me to keep up my pace was that I was afraid that at any moment my husband would be lapping me in this outer loop.  I was pondering how I would trip him if that did happen; but, fortunately, it didn't come to that. 

The last kilometer took us past the Italian Gardens which I had never seen before, lovely even in the crappy weather.  Then we had to go up a little hill before heading down under a bridge and then along a long path tracing the edge of the Serpentine lake.  There was not big "Finish" sign to let you know how much further.  You just saw a group of people and the registration tents and hoped that the line was not much further beyond all of those people.  Some of my pacers pushed ahead and some fell behind.  I tried to keep it going knowing I was close.  My husband did see me cross, from a distance.  He told me that I looked like I was in pain.  I am not looking forward to seeing the professional photos of the race; I always look a bit strained.

But I finished.  The first race of the year is in the bag and I have a medal to prove it.  I also hit a personal best time.  Many of you might think I am a more serious runner than that first blog let on, but let me assure you that I am as surprised as you are with the time and am now worried that I will never be able to do better than that.  Maybe it is fine to hit your New Year's Resolution Goal Time in the very first event of the year.  Perhaps I can say I am done for the year!  Probably not....still have a Half Marathon on the 2nd of March.

Happy New Year!


10K - 56:35 (PB)

Introduction and My First Day

This will be the first post to this blog.

I have titled it "To Run or Not to Run" because I am not a lover of running but I seem to tie on the trainers often enough that people will consider me a runner.  Most days I can talk myself out of hitting the pavement, the treadmill, or a local trail.  Here I will happily share with you the mind numbing thoughts that often paralyze me and coerce me back into the comfort of my bed.  I bet lots of you have the same thoughts!  I hope you enjoy my stories.  You might even laugh...I usually do.

Happy New Year and I hope you all resolve to Run or at least blog about why you Aren't Running as the calendar turns a page tonight.

Here goes the first post:

So, this morning as only the faintest grey arc of light was emanating from the side of the window shade, my husband burst back into the bedroom after at least one cup of coffee wondering where I was hiding.  “Hey, if you are going to run, you had better go now as the weather forecast shows a break in the clouds for only about the next hour.”  “Hmmmm,” I sort of moan from a fetal position under the covers.  I had already turned on the light by my bed indicating a start toward leaving my cuddly cocoon, but I had already been thinking that at just before 8am on Christmas vacation perhaps I might skip running, for the second day in a row.  It is the holidays and the weather is nasty.  I was already woken by the swinging of the driveway gates which had blown open in the early morning hours.  They were even creaking on their hinges now as my husband tried to motivate me to hit the pavement. 

“Oh,” he reminded me, “you will want to remember your high vis stuff.”  He left me still under the covers and hopped down the steps with a bit too much spring on this wintry day.  The reference to the “High Vis” gear does not motivate me further.  High Vis gear is the running/Health and Safety term to describe the brightly colored running bits that I own that make me look like a giant construction barrel but is supposed to make it easier for others to see me.  If I am going to need the high vis gear, then it is still so grey outside that there is a distinct possibility that a driver may not see me crossing the road on my standard route this means that the weather is still rather suspect and consequently not so very inviting.  However, knowing that I am supposed to be in training for a half marathon only about 8 weeks away, I muster the energy to get out of bed.

The run was actually fine.  I wasn’t breaking any land speed records or even shattering a “PB,” but I actually went the prescribed 3.5 miles and rewarded myself with a half mile cool down.  It was in the last tenth of a mile that I passed another stalwart runner out on this very last day of the year.  I felt connected to this other runner and smiled as she passed.  I don’t think I was wearing enough bright yellow (my vest), vibrant pink (my gloves) or electric orange (my head band) for her to notice as she didn’t even make eye contact with me…another runner.  Perhaps she was blind or perhaps she suffers from photosensitive epilepsy or perhaps I didn’t strike her as someone out with a similar mission.  If I took a moment to compare the two runners on the sidewalk, you would see that one was very serious:  she had on black compression tights and a matching long sleeved running top and her hair bounced in a perfect fling as her trusty Labrador trotted along behind her.  The other was red faced, wearing black sweatpants acquired at Costco for a mere $7 topped by a Lands End half zip fleece that could top any outfit on any day of the week not just for running but even for grocery shopping and church outings.  The latter had a drooping ponytail and was walking toward the other runner having just crossed the road.  Is the one a more serious runner than the other?   Someday they may meet again, perhaps on a starting line, and the winner of that race will be whoever manages to get across the finish line before they tear down the race route.  I am sure we both will, making us equally serious about running. 

Now, I better stop writing and go wash my Costco sweatpants because tomorrow is another day to hit the pavement…seriously.  

Today's Run:  3.5 miles in 35:05