So, I wouldn't say that it was a lack of inspiration, more that the thought had never really crossed my mind. I watched, last year, the finish of the marathon and thought to myself that to do such a thing was pretty damn stupid.
However, my mind is changed now.
My brain woke up last week after finishing the BeanDip Triathalon thread. I was inspired, truly inspired to go out and do something. After the Labor day weekend I woke up on Tuesday and while driving I heard an advertisement for the Pints to Pasta 10k race on Sunday.
I decided that I was going to run this race.
Now, a few things first.
1. The longest I have ever "run" was about 2 miles.
2. I haven't been doing cardio this summer, mostly strength training.
TUESDAY
So, here I was on Tuesday deciding to do a 10K on Sunday. I went to the gym Tuesday night and got up on the treadmill. I felt inspired and moreso, my legs felt inspired. I breezed to two miles and was feeling very good, but I cut short my workout due to not wanting to tax my legs too much. I began to see the idea of finishing beginning to form. I kept up an 11.49 mile pace and wasn't feeling too tired by the end.
i went home and read up on training for marathons and 10k races. I decided to approach this in the vein of hard/easy. So the next day I didn't run at all and let my legs heal.
THURSDAY
Then it was Thursday. I was starting to get apprehensive as I had originally thought a 10 k to be 5 miles, and I found out that morning that it was 6.2
So I knew that I had to have a "long run" day on Thursday that would tell me exactly if I could finish or not. I set my pace right around a 11 minute mile and was able to keep it up for about 3 miles. I then slowed down to a 11.40/12.00 mile, and was feeling really good. I made it 4.5 miles and called it good, not wanting to over exert myself as my legs were feeling.... tired.
I gave myself the next two days off and I needed it. My lungs were hurting and my chest was sore as the impact of running was beginning to hit me. There was still a doubt althought running the 4.5 gave me the idea that I could do all right.
SATURDAY NIGHT
I pregamed on saturday night with Jack In The Box sirloin burger and some chicken, healthy eh? I slammed down 48ozers of water and attempted to go to sleep. There was a nervous energy that night that I couldn't shake and I didn't get to sleep until about 3:30 am. It was just too exciting, too many unknowns. I was going to go out tomorrow and run more miles than I had ever done before. Was I going to make it? Was I going to be faster than the 66 grannys from Beaverton.
SUNDAY - RACE DAY
Finally the wake up call came at 5:45 am. I had a whopping 2/3 hours of sleep and was feeling both nervous and dead tired. I drank some more water, got together my gear, and the Girlfriend and I packed up for the road. I didn't have an ipod that was working and I wasn't going to carry the weight of the zune, so I determined to do it sans music. I also don't have a watch, so I repeated the mantra of "find the rhythm, run my own pace"
I showed up and pinned my number to my nike shirt, feeling very out of place with my basketball shorts and my backwards hat. There was spandex and runners everywhere. The highlight being a 45 year old man in rainbow spandex, multicolored sox, a partial skulet, and a mustache. with a day glo orange shirt, and pink/orange laces in his shoes. IT was AWESome.
I took the shuttle up to the start remarking to myself (Internally) how damned far it was from the finish. Taking two cups of water I realized, that
A: I hadn't had breakfast....
B: I was in this for the haul now.
The start was at the ADIDAS facility, on north greely.
So while everyone else streched out, played games of soccer and warmed up. I just sat around and conserved energy. I knew that I would need every last bit.
Finally after 30 minutes I noticed the group leaving and we marched up to the start line. There was over 1400 entrants and the 5 minute milers were in the front pack. I went as far to the back as possible telling myself that I would reel in as many as possible after I found my rhythm.
The call went up and the runners were off. It was a sea of bobbing heads and jogging in place. Hands went to wrists and hundreds of beeping watches went into start mode. The crowd surged forward, so thick that I walked for the first few dozen feet or so. Finally they picked up speed, hurrying along until there was space enough to run.
It was on.
The start headed downhill, then up to the broadway bridge, it crossed over, went north for two blocks, and then crossed over to naito blvd, where we entered the park and ran down to the old spaghetti factory on bancroft.
I paced myself letting hundreds of peope pass me. I wasn't quite sure if my legs were up to it, but I took it one step at a time and just focused on getting down the hill.
My training running was all on the treadmill, so the fun began on the first big climb (which wasn't that big at all). I kept my stride short and my pace quick, and I looked at the ground until we got to the top. I kicked out then feeling better and less like my legs were going to fall off. I started reeling in all the people that passed me before, darting between groups of 4 and 5 finding little pockets to run in until catching up with the group in front of me. I hit 1 mile and then 2, feeling pretty good on the hills and the descents. I started playing in strategy, steadily gaining on people on the hills and then lengthening my stride on the down hill and picking them off. I couldn't tell where I was in the pack, but just kept trying to push my self and remain steady.
Groups of two and three blonde pony tails would pass me, old men, young women, thin people and those not so much. I blocked it out of my mind and sure enough another mile later I reeled them all back in as I was finding my stride.
Before I left I told my girlfriend that I was hoping for 1hr 15 to 1hr 30, but to expect 1hr 30 minutes. I had no idea of my pace or my time, other than I just kept kicking. Keeping a mental note of how hard I should be breathing I modified my running to keep it almost at the max of what my legs would take.
I hit mile 3.5 and my legs were burning. We went up and down tiny hills and they felt like monsters. I kept pushing, the constant reminder against walking indicated by the individuals here and there that had slowed down to a gentle stroll. I knew that I couldn't stop, I had to keep on going. I flashed mountains into my head, the thought of beandip crossing the finish line, I played a game where I went from A to Z naming foods that started with each letter (x was xanthum gum)
So I pushed on. I thought that 3 to 4 was going to be the worst, but 4 to 5 was hideous. I was off my earlier pace, but was still trying to go strong, my legs were feeling like they were disconnected from my body, they were yelling strong messages to stop.
I finally hit the industrial park section under the aerial tram and I knew that I was almost home free. I found the 6 mile sign and tried to coax my legs into a final drive. I wanted to finish strong. I could see the finish line ahead and I stretched into an all out run, no jogging. I couldn't see my time or my girlfriend but I could see the end and that is what I needed.
Finally on my left I saw her smile, and turning my head to the right I finally saw the time.
1hr 2 minutes.
I summoned all the last little bit of strength and pride that I had left in my body and kicked it into high gear and crossed over at 1hr 3 minutes 35 seconds.
I couldn't even hear my name called as my heart pounded in my head.
I went and got my spaghetti, my beer, my glucose, my water and rested.
I had finished.
and now it has all begun. I will be running in the portland marathon 10k and training for the real marathon next year.
Get out there and CHASE YOUR FUCKING DREAM.
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