Race Day

Race day. I wasn't sure how to act. I wasn't sure how to prepare. So I slept in. I was tired. Super supportive hubby was supportively curious as to why I wasn't getting ready yet. I wasn't sure how to get ready. So I pretended I was doing a regular workout and put on all my regular workout clothes that I always wear. I figured I should do something special for race day though, so instead of pulling my morning bedhead into my ponytail holder all ratty, I brushed it first. Then I put on some deoderant. I was ready. And hubby was supportively ready to send me off with a big kiss - a kiss suitable only for a champion. How lucky am I? Not every woman can just off and run a 5K, let alone endure the taxing training schedule and strict nutrition plan without a healthy reserve of support at home.

As I was running out the door (part of my warm up), the girls were surprised to see me go and wanted to know my destination. "Oh yeah, girls, I'm running a race today." Upon seeing their bugged-out eyes, ear-to-ear smiles, and hopeful pride in their ragged mommy, I almost wished I hadn't told them. Especially when they asked me if I thought I was going to win. As if it wasn't hard enough for me to know I wasn't going to win (the perfectionist who never wants to try or do anything unless I'm going to be the best...ugh! I drive myself crazy!), now I had to deal with disappointing the joys of my life too. I squared my shoulders, tried to look strong, and assured them that I would most definitely not be winning this race. I hoped to make up for some of those empty promises made to them in the past, because I knew this was a promise I'd be keeping...although they'd likely prefer that I go back on this promise and restore a previous vow that would have entailed something fun for them.

After all my efforts to communicate my mediocrity, Leah had to get in one last innocent jab with a remark about wanting to see what my medal looked like if I won one. I decided not to have the I'm-already-a-winner conversation because I think those conversations are trite. Instead I settled on asking the girls if they'd still be proud of me even if I didn't win. Of course they would. With that painful conversation out of the way and the pressure piled on, I was out the door, leaving mister support and the wishful thinkers at home.

I forced myself into my friends' car and even on our way to the race I tried to talk her out of it. I had made the mistake of mentioning to Hayley that I would like to run a 5K at least once in my life, preferably before the big 4-0, and she had made it her mission to ensure that I followed through.

Unfortunately, traffic was light and we arrived at the venue. I paid my money - twenty whole bucks out of the "Rachelle's spending money" portion of our budget that I protect passionately. I wished I had worn my red, long-sleeved, moisture-wicking shirt underneath my white short sleeves because I didn't want to run in my blue jacket and it was colder than I had anticipated. I was annoyed about my race day attire, I was cold when I wanted to be warm, and I was feeling a childish tantrum coming on.

Hayley and Katharina (another friend from the gym) managed to get me to the starting line. Actually, they managed to get me to stand about 5 yards behind the last person in the mass that had congregated as close to the starting line as possible. I'm convinced that error in judgment cost me a better spot in the rankings. Next time I'm muscling my way to the front no matter what. I was mad when people started running because I didn't know it was start time yet. I hadn't been able to properly prepare by shaking my arms, kicking up my heels, and loosening my neck with ear-to-shoulder stretches.

There's not much to say about the race itself. We ran. That's it. Just ran. Kind of Forest Gump-ish like. At the end I decided we should definitely smoke the lady in front of us, so Hayley took her left while I stayed to the right and we ran like the wind (similar to a light breeze on a sunny day) to the finish line. The place went nuts. The cheers of the crowd were carried into the nearby neighborhoods, spectators were overcome with emotion at the sight of us, and Hayley couldn't keep her breakfast down. It was awesome.

We hurried home so we could get ready for the ward party. As we pulled into the driveway, I noticed two precious, excited little faces peeking around the side of the house, no doubt waiting to see what one of those medals looked like. They pretended to be impressed with my t-shirt and water bottle because they love me and they are promise keepers - they were proud of their dorky mom regardless. I strategically placed some M&M cookies in their hands to divert their attention away from me and to keep them excited about something.

It was over so I showered. I even put on some more deoderant. Then I went to the ward party where hubby had been finding excuses to tell everyone about my morning's activity. By Sunday I had actually run a marathon according to one friend. Imagine how I wanted to shrivel up my perfectionist self and pretend to not exist when I was obligated to respond and set the record straight. "Well, it wasn't exactly a marathon. Rather, a 5K...on a really challenging course around the park. It was really cold. But I did place 80th."

I'm tired. I finished the race and I'm not even 40 yet. Thanks to Hayley who told me I could do it.

Aubrey and Amanda (friends from the ward) are way too much competition for me.

Feeling good at the ward party. We sure do clean up good.