Currently, my body is sore. All I would really like to do is sit in a massive tub of scalding water with about three pounds of epsom salt. But no, I’m being responsible and writing a blog post, like an adult.
Saturday afternoon, a friend from college stopped into town. Kaleigh needed to get an outfit for a formal event and she decided to take advantage of my sixth sense for amazing clearance deals. We grabbed some dinner and walked around the mall, scoffing at Macy’s $80 clearance. (“Clearance: You’re doing it wrong.”) Somewhere between stuffing my face with a pound of mongolian stir fry and trying on prom dresses, Kaleigh asked if I was interested in doing a 5k with her.
I recalled seeing an invite anout something like that earlier in the week. “Oh yeah, I forgot to actually look at that, what is it all about?”
“It’s a 5k mud run for breast cancer. There’s a bunch of obstacles – like a big mud pile you have to run up and over and then a big mud puddle you run through at the end.”
As I licked the peanut-curry sauce from the corner of my lip and felt the first hints of bloating and regret, I realized I should probably make some changes. Committing to a 5k seemed like a good first step.
“Yeah, I want to get a team of girls together. We can t-shirts printed and maybe get some sponsors,” Kaleigh said. “My one friend said she’d only do it if she got to wear a tutu, so I guess we’re wearing tutus and t-shirts.”
To convince me, all she really had to say was: “Hey, wanna run three miles in a tutu?”
And my response would have been: “Hell yes I do!”
Later that night, I got into bed with my Kindle and began planning my 5k the way most runners probably do: by creating a Pinterest board. I found an 8 week training program, added the schedule to my calendar, and got my gym bag together for Monday.
I did the first day of the program last night – run for five minutes, walk for one, repeat five times. By the time I was done with that, I was at about 3.6k and I was curious to see how long it would take me to do 5k so I just finished it. I say “just finished it” like I wasn’t dying and extremely aware of the blister growing on my left instep. It took me just over 42 minutes to do 5k.
I know it’s not terrible, but it’s not great either. I’m having a hard time not comparing it to my older brother’s 5ks from high school. Corey is a natural-born runner. Even while eating fast food several times a week, he’s able to maintain roughly three ounces of fat on his body. Jerk. Supposedly, he went to his first cross country practice in high school, ran eight miles and was one of the first kids to finish. This is a kid whose only previous athletic experience was shooting hoops in the driveway. Anyway, my base time (42:20, we’ll say) is twice his time.
I realize that this is a process though, so I wasn’t expecting to run like a Nigerian off the bat. I am, after all, a blogger/reader/violinist. We’re not known for our agility. I’ll shoot for doing a 5k every Monday and I’ll keep you posted on my times. I’m giving you permission to bug me about it by whatever means necessary if you suspect I’m slacking.