Wednesday, March 19, 2014

The Worst (But Most Important) Race Of My Life

This was my first big race. Triple the distance of my previous race.

And I was not feeling it. At. All.

If you don't know, the Gate River Run is a 15k race that runs thru and around downtown Jacksonville and over the St Johns River twice. It starts at Everbank Field downtown and then goes to the south side of the river and through the residential areas and then back to Everbank field. Now the first time it goes over the river isn't that bad. The Main Street Bridge is a drawbridge and fairly short distance wise so not so bad.


See? Not so bad. At least when you're actually running it.

It's when you get to the other bridge that the problem comes up. The Hart Bridge aka The Green Monster.


It's a terror! I drove over it for the first time the day before the race to pick up my race packet. And gravity does not want you to get up the bridge in a car so how the hell was I supposed to do it with just my poor little legs?!

Thus began my freakout. Friday: go to work, talk to a few of my friends and complain about not getting enough mileage in and then go to the expo. Cross the bridge and promptly freak out.

So that was my mindset going into the race on Saturday. Not enough training and then OH MY GOD THE BRIDGE!

Also, I stayed up too late the night before and I woke up with tummy problems.

Oh, and I took the wrong turn on the way downtown.

Freaking out.

I searched for my friend Frankfurt (who is a super speed demon btw, bib number 277, finished in 57 mins. He could have run a marathon in time it took me to finish this 15k) but couldn't find him so I headed to my corral and met up with my friend Samantha.


We didn't plan to run together but we hung out before the start. Once the gun went off we started "running". And by running I mean shuffling around trying to get to open space so we could start running. We didn't plan on running together so once we got out in the open we took off in different directions. I ran for a few minutes and then my tummy started acting up so I settled in to walk the whole thing.

Mile one runs along the front street (I don't know its name) on the way to the Main Street Bridge. After the first mile I lost track of what was where.

I know the 5k split was right on the river because I started tearing up a little bit then. How was it only 5k?

But I pulled myself together and kept going..

Through a few water stops. The volunteers could tell that I was questioning every life choice I had ever made and they were cheering me on accordingly. Which made me tear up. Thank you nice strangers!

Around mile 5 someone handed me a beer. I took it because I thought it was water but I drank it anyway. Don't judge me, I'm an adult!

10k, I'm still feeling bad but now I am developing blisters as well.

Out onto Atlantic Boulevard around mile 7 and on to the ramp for the Green Monster. Hit mile 8 towards the beginning of the bridge, whhhyyyyyyyyyy? Why is it still so far!? I had to take it really slow through this part because of the blisters. Horrible, horrible blisters. And as much of a beast as that bridge is, at least it changes things up. I'm pretty sure if my feet hadn't been so bad I might have even enjoyed it a little bit. But alas, it was not to be.

Once the bridge was over it was still so far! Every step was miserable. Even after crossing the 9 mile marker I was still ready to cry. 0.3 miles is far when you're in so much pain. I crossed the finish line 20 minutes later than I was projected to (stupid blisters!) and got my medal. I didn't feel very victorious this time.


I was definitely not in the mood to take a finish line photo so this will have to suffice.

Despite the miserable "race" I just had, the most miserable part was yet to come.

The trek to my car.

When I parked in the morning I thought it wasn't that far.

But I was wrong. Very wrong.

It was very far. Or at least felt very far. True story: once I could actually see my car is when I started crying. It  felt very far away. It felt farther that the race I had just finished. I think I was somewhat delusional at this point because it was literally about 12 feet away.

And then I spent the next two days recovering.

I struggled every step of this race. I started crying several times and thought about quitting every 10 minutes. But it was necessary. I've always been a planner but I very rarely follow through on my plans. So, on some level, I knew that I would not be prepared for this race. But I didn't think I would be this unprepared. It was a wake up call. I need to train more consistently, I need to respect the mileage and I need to stop freaking out. 

I wallowed in self pity for a couple of hours and then turned it around. Miserable experience? What can I change next time to make it not so miserable? And as my mother said, most people see the Hart Bridge and don't even try so at least I have that. I worked through my fear of the bridge and my tummy issues and I finished. I may have finished towards the back but I crossed the finish line and got my medal. And I learned stuff too. So maybe my miserable day was not so miserable after all.


And now Cinderella has a buddy. So that's something.

What was your worst race? How did you learn from it?

   

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