Meandering post because I’m happy.
Ran my second race today. Still doing all this to build the physical endurance to have four kids. My first race was a month ago – 8 kilometers on hilly terrain, after minimal training. My minutes-per-mile time on that race was 14’15. To force myself to keep running, I signed up for another one right away – 10 kilometers on paved level ground – and did not, in fact, train for it. Despite going to bed early, I slept poorly, and woke up feeling trepidation…
And it was great. The start was bad. I was really cold, and felt leaden despite 2.5mg of Ritalin that should have kicked in by the start of the run. I also realized one minute in that I wanted to shed my phone and earbuds, so I ran to the car (which I had just passed) to drop those off. When I returned, I was of course at the end of the pack. I ran 13’40 that first mile, significantly worse than on most practice runs. Then, a bit into the second mile, things just sorted themselves out.
I think I’ll set most of my PRs on official races. The competitive aspect is so powerful. I slingshotted my way forward by focusing on overtaking the next person. I’d watch that next person for a long time, getting closer but not too close, since I didn’t want to cross them multiple times and appear to be trying to beat them specifically (which I was). When I was close enough to catch up, I instead maintained distance, gathering strength until I could run well past them. That way, when I collapsed back into a walk, there was lots of distance between us.
(my boyfriend: this is an absurd intersection of predatory behavior and socially anxious behavior.
me: I’m being polite. I don’t want to tailgate them. Do you feel fine when you’re overtaking and being overtaken by the same person repeatedly?
boyfriend: yes, this is totally fine, I don’t care about this
me: you’re a bad person
boyfriend: YOU’RE a bad person)
Halfway into the race, I developed a slight headache and tightness in my face – possibly underhydration. I slowed down, knowing I’d walk the rest of the way if it got worse. But it went away.
Three quarters into the race, when things were already going well, everything also felt natural. Friction fell away, and I no longer had to apply internal acceleration to keep a steady velocity. I was more aware of my body – not an all-around howl of cellular resentment anymore, but a drip of granular, neutral-toned reports. My hip joints were slightly strained at the forwardmost point of femoral pendulation. My ankles faintly hurt but said they could easily take it to the end of the race. Experimentally, I sped up just a little, and my body politely told me it would rebel if I kept that up. I returned to the natural-feeling pace and the rebellion-warning disappeared.
When I took a walk break, I did certain stretches for my back and arms that felt right in the moment. (My boyfriend pointed out this may be endocannabinoids, since weed also gives me the “I know exactly what stretch I want” feeling.)
The trail was by the sea, and the breeze that had been so hostile an hour ago was an undulation in the plenum of ease I was embedded in.
My average pace throughout the run was 12’49. My previous best was 13’06 on a run half the distance.
I see why people do this. When I got home, I – and remember, I had failed to force myself to jog in the previous month – immediately opened my computer to look for more upcoming 10Ks.