I won a medal and set a new PR!

I started running in late December with the Couch to 5k Plan. I never ran before, except a few times when making up skipped gym classes in high school, more than 20 years ago. I couldn't run one block without getting wheezy and out of breath.

I did my first races in March, then ran some more in April, then a 5 miler in May, and the Warrior Dash in June. Since then, I've kept up the running, but didn't do any official races until today... the Lupus Loop 5k. My mom died three years ago, and Lupus was one of the contributing factors, along with a host of other problems. So it's a cause that's near and dear to my heart.

I was nervous, because my recorded times when jogging weren't really any different than when I ran my races months back. I didn't know if I really improved any. And if I didn't, that's just fine, because I'm 39 years old, so I'm not exactly an up and coming primo-athlete.

When I checked the stats for last year's race, though, my spirits perked up. My running times were probably good enough to get me 2nd place in my age group. And 1st and 2nd place each got medals. Before the race, I checked the metals, eyed the silver medallion for 2nd place and said, in my best Wayne Campbell voice, "You will be mine... oh, yes... you will be mine." I glanced at the first place medal and murmured, "Or you. That would be nice..."



I had no idea how fast I was running. Probably too fast to keep up that pace. It hurt a bit. The familiar self-doubts were there. "What the hell do you think you're doing?! You're not a runner! Just stop and walk. It's fine if you stop and walk." But I told that little voice in my head to STFU, and kept going.

At about the halfway point, I realized, "I'm ok! I'm doing this, and I'm doing ok!" There was one of those single-digit-body fat uber-athlete women ahead of me in short shorts and a sports bra. The kind that makes you feel like a cross between a slug and the Michelin Man. But I realized... she was still about the same distance ahead of me as she was in the first mile. I'm kinda, sorta, almost... keeping up with her! Then I started to realize that I was slowing down... not because I needed to or wanted to, but because the person ahead of me was slowing down, and I still had more oomph in me! In the last half mile or so, I passed two men. Men who looked like they were in much, much better shape than me. Men who looked like runners. And I was passing them. Me! The girl who only started running 9 months ago!



With the finish line coming up, I kept chugging. I swear the line kept getting further away, though, like the hallway in Poltergeist that kept getting longer and longer as the mom tried to run down it. Then I saw the number on the timer. Holy crap! I was blowing my personal record out of the water!



25:29

That's over four minutes faster than my first 5k back in March, and two and a half minutes faster than my previous best! We waited while they filled out names, ages, genders and times on the big old time-sheet, squinting and trying to see where I ranked. I knew I did good. Really good. Better than I thought I could. I was 20th place overall, and then, they started marking the sheet for the awards and ....



I won! I was first in my age group! One of my recent goals was to get some kind of award, but I thought I'd maybe get third in my group sometime next year, once I was over 40 and was the youngest in my age group instead of the oldest. But nope, I got first place!!!



That little mean voice is still in the back of my head, saying that it was because there was smaller (5 year) age groups instead of grouping by decade, but I'm still telling that voice to STFU. That little voice has been proved wrong already today, since it wanted me to walk after the first mile, and I plan on continuing to prove it wrong time and time again.

For what it's worth, the two best races I've run were both the day after birthday parties, where alcohol, junk food and cake were consumed. Forget clean eating! I'm turbo-powered from sweets and mojitos!!!!