FIELD NOTES
The "Whatever" Race: A Comedy of Errors
I told myself it was "just a 5k." I was wrong.
I ran my first 5k of the season today. My pre-race logic was airtight: It’s a road race. How hard can it be. It’s not like a trail race where you can face plant from a 2 inch root you didn’t see. Why train for a race when you can simply enter one and "see where you are"? Spoiler alert: I found out exactly where I am. Second place. Again.
Now look, second place in my first half-marathon? Fine. That was new territory. But a 5k? I run three miles as a warm-up. This race should be like falling off the couch while napping.
The Hills: A Horror Story
I drove the course the day before like a responsible adult. Scouted the first mile. Saw the big hill. Made a plan: suffer up, make up my time and fly down. Simple.
What I somehow missed while casually driving my car at 25 mph? Three…. four…. it was more hills than flat. (They must have changed the course last night.) There they were. Just sitting there. Waiting. I still don't know how they hid from me. Were they crouching?
The Weather Report Nobody Asked For
Wind: 15 mph (rude)
Rain: "Drizzle" (wet is wet, let's be honest)
Temperature: 66°F and dropping (practically Arctic)
I don't like road races. Don't like wind. Don't like hills. And yet here I was, on a road, in wind, climbing hills. Choices were made.
Are my gremlins running the show again? I think they submitted my race registration.
The Part Where I Try to Feel Better
Okay fine, some good stuff happened:
Woke up at 5 a.m. (voluntarily)
Hot Epsom salt bath after the race with a hot latte and fav music (possibly undeserved, but non-negotiable)
Ran with my oldest kid who drove out early …. on a Saturday when most people sleep in
Actually she started doing this after the half-marathon where I detoured to the ER on my birthday. So either she loves me, or she's making sure I don't die. Both valid.
The "Zone"? Never Met Her.
Here's the real tragedy: I never hit my zone. My daughter was talking to me. I wasn't listening. I was too busy anticipating hills and being in my head instead of, you know, enjoying the reason I run in the first place.
I don't even need to win. I just need that feeling. Didn't get it. The hills stole it.
The Takeaway (Stern Self-Talk Edition)
I didn't put in the miles. I got exactly what I paid for. No rose-colored glasses. No veil. Just the mirror.
Don't feel sorry. Don't whine. Don't complain. Don't make excuses.
It is what it is. Now do something about it. Or shut the front door.
Whoa. Where did that come from? Apparently I have a motivational gremlin too.
Two Weeks: Trail race. Totally different beast. We'll see what that one uncovers.
…to be continued. 🏃♀️🔥
