If I tell you it was the worst race I’ve ever run will you please not register for it next year? I’M KIDDING. Seriously. I’m still on Cloud 9 about it. Not only was it a 5k PR for me (and that includes a 1/4 mile walk break for my hamstrings/IT band and Daddy’s quads) BUT IT WAS SO WELL ORGANIZED and everything flowed sooooo smoothly. Miracle of miracles. Get this: we lined up and actually started running when the starting horn blared. I know, right? You thought that only the elites and speed demons got to start running right away. I’m guessing that’s because they cap it right around 800 as opposed to the St. Paddy’s Day Dash which is just insane. INSANE.
Back to the point. We started by just east of the Waiting for the Interurban sculpture (and just in front of the new-ish JP Patches and Gertrude statue). We headed east for roughly 1.6 miles before turning around and running back along the Burke-Gilman trail. The only low point? I didn’t have anything to block the sun on the run back. Oh, and the race photos are atrocious as usual. Dear race photogs: take pictures of me at the BEGINNING of a race and not at the end. Thanks. This might be hard to understand, but some of us don’t look so pretty at the end of a race. My dad was cute. He was nervous because he’s never run in a race before. I didn’t really have much to say to calm his nerves. He kept talking to strangers (it’s his inner Southern boy) and telling them how it was his first race and how he usually only runs 180 feet at a time (that’s a double for those of you who don’t care about baseball or are worse at math than I am). He told me he’s never gone more than a mile at one time. He was a trooper though. We had a nice long walk back to the car afterward to help loosen muscles.
Right near the end, my dad shouts at a group of large police officers: “Anybody know So-And-So, North Precinct?” The biggest guy moved his head in what I think might have been a nod as my dad shouts back “Tell that S.O.B. to get a real job!”
Daddy, we don’t sass men who carry guns as a part of their job. It just isn’t done. Especially when they are big enough to be mistaken for football players. Silly Daddy. He plays baseball with the guy that he was asking about. Apparently, he’s in the habit of saying the same type of thing to every police officer he meets who knows the guy. This is actually an indication of my father liking this man.
ANYWAY, I seem to have rediscovered my love of running. Or at least my use for it. I’m totally bummed out because I just discovered that there is a half marathon the same day as the one I’m registered for, except that it’s 30 minutes away instead of 3 hours. *insert Napoleon Dynamite sized sigh here*. I guess the lesson I’m learning is to not sign up too early? Oh, well. I’m planning on taking the train up there & I have an uncle who lives in Bellingham during the week and Seattle on the weekends so hopefully I can borrow his apartment for the weekend. And I might just have dinner with some friends of mine from middle school who are getting married this summer… So it’s less convenient travel-wise, but it will still be a fun weekend. FUN. Because that’s why I run. I’m actually starting to have fun again. I’m even kicking around the idea of joining a running club.
Coming soon: my races for the summer months 🙂