Night Running

Remember the song "Night Swimming" by REM?

Yeah, that's a great song. But not at all what this post is about.

Y'all know that I'm a Morning Runner. I get up at 4:30 am and head out with my cru to bust out the miles long before the sun ever comes up. Mostly that has to do with A. Work and B. The brutal Texas heat.

It has cooled off some and that has allowed me to experiment with Night Running. I must say, I rather enjoy it! Who knew?

Now some of my runs or walks have been out much later than anyone has any business being out. No, don't be like me. You really should not leave the house at 1 am to go running. Can you say, "coping mechanism?" Ahem.

Last Friday I had a particularly bad day and even though I had plans to hit 12 miles in the morning with my girls, I knew that if I didn't go run right that very minute, well, I might just go insane. You know the feeling. So I laced up and headed out. You remember how that turned out, right? Ew.

Despite the wrinkles in both my plan and in my feet, I enjoyed my run. Sometimes it's nice to just get out on your own and just run. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the social aspect of running with friends. I love catching up with my cru; they are an amazing group of supportive women. But there is something about being out on your own in the dark of night. Night is different that the pre-dawn darkness. There is something so final about it. The day is closing, not ahead of you. The moon looms overhead, lighting up the path only slightly. There is no promise of breakfast, of a nap. Only the hours ticking away, wrapping up another day.

Last night it was cooler than it's been all season. 61! (16.6 C) That's downright chilly in Texas! Well, almost anyway. Even though I'd run 10 that morning, I pulled on a short sleeve shirt, laced up my trusty Mizunos and wait, hold up. There's more to nighttime running. I put my headlamp on. Clipped my beast of a blinky red light to the back of my reflective cap and said a little prayer that I wouldn't be run over.

Yeah, it might be just as dark in the morning, but there are way fewer cars at 5 am than there are a 10 pm. Safety!

I feel a bit like Dean Karnazes, heading out into the night with no real plan of mileage. Only a bit like Dean, let's not get carried away. Last weekend, for my mileage unknown, I packed a backpack with dry socks, a dry shirt, my wallet, water, a banana and some peanut butter. I wasn't sure how long I'd be out there. Turns out, my 3 hour run only required the water and the banana. But boy was I prepared!

I like the dim glow of my headlamp. I enjoy processing the day in my mind, reviewing what went well, what went wrong and what I could have done differently. It's an opportunity for a Lessons Learned in my noggin.

And I like it.

Yes, I miss my girls. But right now, while I'm still not sleeping so well, I welcome the chance to run solo at night. I feel as if there is the opportunity to keep running as long as I like with only the chance of sleep to look forward to, not the entire day. No time clock to punch, no meetings to arrive early for, just the quiet of the night, calling my name.

Night running.

Oh yes, I spotted this last week when Jules and I headed to the petstore. We are crazy girls, let me tell you. I wonder if these dog treats would help my hip to find happiness? :o) I'll leave you with one last pic from our extravaganza...my purple nails! Toronto Jenn recommended the perfect pinky purple, Dim Sum Plum. I love it!

Autumn Equinox 5K - Race Report

I signed up for a 5K.

Yeah, surprise! I signed up for the Autumn Equinox 5K a few weeks ago. You know, after I threw a big tantrum at my last 5K? Initially I thought this might be a good race. Hopefully some good cooler weather, smaller race, it's at the lake, familiar territory. No surprises.

Oh wait, one surprise. I now have both sinus and upper respiratory infections. One steroid shot, Z pack and lots of Mucinex D later...I'm still feeling pretty worn out. Tore up is more like it. I haven't run since Tuesday.

And when I woke up this morning it was raining. I tweeted about it. Sweet Kim encouraged me to get back in bed! Sorry Kim, I didn't. I drug my sad, over medicated self outta the biscuit and to the lake. I at least wanted to get my 5K in, if not the entire 14 miles I had planned.
Of course I wore my "lucky" pink bows. These ran their first race in NYC last year!

I checked out the radar. Uh, yeah. It's going to storm all morning. I kept checking my e-mail to see if the race was still on. NOT that I've EVER been e-mailed about a race cancellation. But JIC. So I got in the car and headed to White Rock Lake. Carefully.

Lotsa traffic on Mockingbird. Of course everyone out on Mockingbird that early in the morning is out for one reason, The Lake. Are we crazies or what? I had to stay in the middle lane so my little Civic didn't hydroplane in the deep, deep waters by the curbs. And yet still, I had no inclination to turn around and go home. Hey, I had a dry shirt and dry socks in my bag! What else could I possibly need?

I arrived around 6:45 and parked. Sat in the car a few minutes before heading out to do 2 miles of warm up. In the rain. Silly Pink Girl. What else to do when working up the courage to get soaked? Take self portraits of course!

After my 2 miles, I headed to the pavilion at the Stone Tables where the race was to start. There were only about 20 other runners there along with the race staff. I guess it was still on despite the monsoon conditions. Oh yes, and the lightening. That's safe, right? The trees or the lake will protect me! I waited while it got light. The race staff had a lightening detector. Every time lightening registered, they had to delay the race by 20 minutes. It lightening a lot. I didn't know anyone at this race so I just sat and watched it rain.And checked my phone. Yeah, it's not looking good for this rain to stop anytime soon. Actually, the rain doesn't bother me. Once you're wet, well, you're wet. At least it was cooler! But that lightening...not to be messed with. So I waited.

And then finally at 8:30, they announced that the race was officially cancelled. If we wanted to pick up a $10 voucher for another race we could. Aw, stink.

OR
Or we could "unofficially" run the race course as a training run. Heck, I'm in. I'd already been out there for almost 2 hours and I was already soaked.

I lined up at the front of the pack, the race director started his Garmin and said, "Go!" Ha ha, he ran with us! Can you win your own race???

There were only about 6 people in front of me. This never happens. Of course, usually there are a lot more people IN the race. I had a lot of time to people watch before hand. There were a lot of gray headed men out there that looked deceptively fast. And a handful of Run On people that looked suspiciously like it might be their first 5K. And then a group of girls in the cotton race tee and yoga pants. I pegged them for newbies too. No runner would wear cotton in this rain! (shudder at the chaffing)

I took off with a sub 8:30 pace. If felt really good to be out there pretty much on my own, no one around me. The fast kids left me in their dust (or mist as it was) pretty quickly. I focused on my breathing and keeping that pace under 8:45. Before I knew it I was at the first water stop. Nathan water battle in hand, no need to slow down, I bring my own hooch to races now. Oh yes, and it was a NEW Nathan hand held since I lost mine whilst throwing my big fit a few weeks ago. Did I mention that I acted like a very big baby that day? Well, I did.

Anywho. There was the sweetest volunteer getting soaked handing out water. Love her! Thank you to everyone who has every volunteered at a race - you rock!

I spotted the turn around and did just that, turned around. There was a 15K concurrent with the race and everyone in front of me kept going. As I made the turn around an older gentleman called out, "Hey, first female!" and shook his fist at me in a congratulatory manner. What?

I looked at my watch. 8:13. Maybe this rain thing was working for me. I passed another lady who wasn't in the race, just out running. (yes, runners are crazy) She smiled and exclaimed, "Way to go, first female!"

Y'all, I've never been first at anything. First to complain maybe. First in line for cupcakes. First in a race? They must be wrong.
It started to get hard. I remembered Martina's words that "5K's hurt." And that sub 8:30 pace was starting to hurt. Remember, I'm much more comfortable at an 11 min pace these days.

I checked again, 9:00. Uh oh. I was starting to wane. It hurt to breathe. My lungs ached. Wait, was I having a heart attack? All that Sudafed couldn't be good for racing. Pain. I've been in so much pain the past few months. I thought to myself, "Girl, if you can take the emotional torture you've experienced, you can do this. If you can live through the agony of what you've been through, you can handle 1 mile of hurt. Do it."

And I did. I didn't let the crap from my life take over this time. I took over. And it hurt. Yet I pushed the pace harder. I looked down at my strong legs carrying me over the rainy streets. The water dripped off the brim of my pink Pig hat. I know there will be better days, and I wanted today to be one of them.

I crossed that finish line with everything I had. My gas tank was completely empty. The race crew tore off my bib number (this race wasn't chip timed) slapped me on the back and said, "Way to go, First Female!"

That was of little concern to me. I looked down at my Garmin, hopeful. And this is what I saw.

I did it. I finally finished under 28 minutes. Not just a PR (which BTW, I actually DID PR my fit throwing race, just didn't meet my goal, go figure). Not just a PR, but I met my goal. My goal. I did it. I bent over, put my hands on my knees and caught my breath. I finally PR'd and this wasn't official. They can't host a "real" race with the lightening. Oh well, at that moment, it didn't matter. I knew that I did it. And I could do it again. That monkey was finally off my back.

Slowly, I walked over to the pavilion, it was all sinking in. I started to cry, but I was wet from the rain. No one could tell. With my back to the others I tried to hold in the sobs and just sniffle a bit. I did it. Oh how I wished someone, anyone, was there to tell! I wanted to share my news! But I just stared off into the park and cried silently, alone.

For the first time in a long time, they were tears of joy.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll survive all this. And maybe, just maybe, I'll come out stronger.

I hung around for the awards ceremony. Pre-race they said they'd hand out "unofficial" awards. I had hoped to at least place in my age group, here I was winning not only my age group, but supposedly my gender. That to me, is hilarious!

Sure enough, after declaring the winners in the Masters, Hippo and Rhino divisions (really, who wants to run as a Rhino???) He picked up a large trophy and declared That Pink Girl as the overall First Female Finisher. Ha ha ha. I collected my booty, stayed to clap loudly for the others and share in their joy. Everyone who ran won some thing! This is what I love about running. As much stock as we put in splits, tempos, strides...at the end of the day we don't take ourselves too seriously. Hey, we all stuck it out in the rain. We ran the race. We earned our accolades! Each and every one of us.

Here I am eying my prize. This is totally going on my desk at work. It's going to be a great story to tell. The first (and probably last) time I'll ever be overall anything!

Trophies aside, I had a great race. I met my goal that has been out of reach for months now. And after talking to the race director, it was official after all. So it counts. I earned my PR fair and square. And isn't that why we race? Not to win, not to finish before others, but to push our own selves.

Now I've got another goal to set and another race to train for, huh?

Life is like a race. Sometimes you have a good day, some days you fall on the course, sometimes it's DNF. But for those good days, those PR days, it's worth the living. I'm so thankful God let me live for today.

Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us. Hebrews 12:1