Warning: Long-winded March Madness race report to follow. If you just want the stats, skip to the end.
After a lazy high-carb day complete with cupcakes, pizza, Affogado, and plenty of time lolling on my behind, I woke this morning ready to rumble. 26 degrees and clear. I donned my ridiculous disco diva running skirt, rolled the kids from sack to car and we were off before the sun came up.
Truly I have no clue what got into me with this sizzling day-glo skirt. The middle-aged mind does funny things. It was called “Sangria” when I saw it at an online closeout. I guess if they called it cloying cotton candy or retina searing fuschia they wouldn’t have had any takers. But Sangria sounds tame enough right? Plus how much black and navy running stuff can a girl endure?
Having kids a tad on the young side is a double edged sword in this respect. They’re young enough to still think I’m pretty even if I look like a very large piece of Bubble Yum. And to complicate matters I’ve got a pink but not quite matching top that simply won’t work unless I break up the offense. And I do with a black vest. Hubby chooses to live another day and wisely limits his critique to “I think you’ll be too hot in that”. So there I was: mobile Pepto.
Race time and we’re off promptly. I’ve lined up almost all the way in the back to hopefully prevent me from going out too fast. Today is all about redemption from last year’s disaster.
My goal is to hold as close to an 8:30 pace as I can.
Miles 1-5: Rolling hills, easy to go waaay too fast. This is where I cooked my goose last year. I caught myself once doing 8:14 and another at 7:58 but overall I’m in control. I am instantly too hot in the damn vest. I’ll never admit this to hubby though.
Miles 5-8: Starts with a very steep hill that settles into a long but not-too bad incline. Mile 8 is a brutal corkscrew uphill with uneven pavement. Arm warmer girl, who I eyed and pegged as fast before the start is walking. You just never know. But another chick in a sport bra whizzes past me. She has what looks like a healed-over gunshot wound in her lower back. I am mesmerized until she’s too far ahead for me to examine it further.
Mile 9: A delicious downhill then straightaway. Enjoyable even.
Miles 10, 11, 12: One outrageous hill after another but I am not plodding. Definitely stronger this year.
Mile 13: We get on the path for the homestretch. Here’s where I need to start kicking. Can I? Do I have anything left? Believe it or not this old nag has something left. Sports bra girl is just ahead. Could I? Should I? I see the kids and wave, and not even paying attention I manage to smoke SBG! Who’d have thunk?
Overall I managed to break my course record by shaving off almost 2-1/2 minutes. The race was hard but not impossibly so. Time: 1:53 flat. I’ll take it.
Make the most of every day
