So I signed up for this race…

Now I’ve gone and done it.

I’ve signed myself up for a race and stuff. Yeah, yeah, I know… Everybody does it. Set a goal, run for it, etcetcetc. Wooptidoo.

But for me, this is a Big. Deal. I haven’t been in a race since 2006, when some co-workers convinced me it was a Good Idea™ to strap on rollerblades and skate a half-marathon with only a month or so of prep time.

I vowed never to rollerblade again, and I haven’t. It wasn’t that I hated doing the race, or spending time with really fun and enjoyable co-workers (miss you guys sometimes, you-know-who-you-are’s). It was an achievement and I was very proud!

I just don’t enjoy rollerblading. Not one bit.

Harkening back to that whole Scary Stuff thing, I lost my sanity took courage this week and signed up for the Army Run here in Ottawa in September. I am entered in the 5km race. Five whole kilometres of running. At once. With other people.

Oh yeah… Mama’s gonna run 5k, and then die. (Not really, only die a little. I’m hoping my hubby brings the kids in a wagon so I won’t have to use my legs to get back to the car.) I know I can walk some of it if I have to, and I have until September to train. I also know that finishing the race is the important thing, not my time. (Yeah right, my competitive self just stage-whispered “RUN, DAMN YOU!!)

The last time I ran in a race, I was 17 years old, and I won it.

In high school, believe it or not, I was a sprinter (I did cross-country too, but my best events were Track & Field). All five foot nothing of me competed in the 100, 200, and 4×100 metre races every year. And yo, I was fast! I loved the feel of the speed as I would lean around the corner in a 200 metre race, attempting a sub 30 second time. I felt this incredible rush of adrenalin staring down the track from the starting blocks. I can still remember what it felt like to burst over the finish line, knowing it was my (non-existent) boobs that broke the tape. It was a big part of who I was in school, being a runner.

I was proud of my speed.

I was an introverted, socially shunted girl for most of high school, but when I ran, I wasn’t an outcast. I wasn’t ugly, or short, or stupid. For that little bit of time, I was amazing and could do anything. The rumours and the secrets and the failed attempts at fitting-in went away. I was awesome.

My horses used to give me the same feeling too, but I digress…

I had forgotten about that part of me until I started running again this past month. Perhaps that is why I am pushing myself through the nerves, achy muscles, red-faces and jiggly public displays imitating a fire bellows.

To remember that feeling. To get back that woman who likes herself and doesn’t feel like a big, fat failure.

So wish me luck. I’m kind of excited, a bit scared, and a lot worried I won’t be ready. I have a goal, and only 150 days to get there.

Eep.

2012 Army Run

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2 thoughts on “So I signed up for this race…

  1. I’m scared too about running my first 10K in a couple of weeks, but you are going to do really well, and I’m going to conquer this scary race, and then we’ll sign up for the next thing and get all freaked out again. At least we’ll be focused and motivated!

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