32:25

32:26.

What a beautiful number.  I mean, a really, really good number.  It's so...I don't know...FAST.

32:26.  I can't stop typing it.  32:26.

What is it?

Why, that's the time I ran today in my first 5K in almost 2 years!  Yeah, I know I said I wasn't going to run in the 5K this weekend in my hometown, but I was talked into it.  I was able to sign up the day before the event, and I was even still able to get a t-shirt!  It was fate.

As I stood in the shower after my personal victory, I contemplated how this fluke occurred and what I can do to duplicate it in the near future and came up with the perfect recipe of today's race:

6 days of not running (!)
1 sleepless night wondering what the heck I just did and how I can get out of it
1 super cool new hot pink running outfit (courtesy of Wal-Mart at 8:30 last night)
1 large mocha
1 caramel rice cake with peanut butter & honey
1/2 cup water
3 trips to the bathroom before leaving the house, just to be sure
1 injured husband cheering on the sidelines every mile or so
100 other runners twice as fast as me
100 other runners twice as slow as me
1 generous helping of prayer for peace, endurance, and injury-free running
62 degrees, overcast
32:26 minutes

Mix all ingredients and enjoy.  Follow with the most amazing and exotic post-run banana ever known to mankind.

I know almost all of that is beyond my control and that the planets will most likely never again align in such a manner, making this recipe very unlikely to be reproduced.  However, much like a baking recipe sometimes substitutions work just as well.  Maybe next time it's 85 degrees and raining, maybe my husband is out of town, or maybe the large mocha doesn't do its job properly that day.  However, also much like a baking recipe, sometimes substitutions even yield new and improved results with an even sweeter victory.

32:26.  What a powerful, tiny little number, don't you think?
Run 4 Help Results

The 5K Siren Call

5K's are all around us.  Have you noticed that?  It seems like when I've finally decided never, ever to do another 5K it seems like everyone on the planet is holding one for an amazing cause.  The 5K is out there, and I've been hiding from it like Katniss hid from Cato, but I know it's going to get me if I'm not careful.

I decided last week that I was going to run in a race held annually in my town to benefit local non-profit organizations.  Let me tell you the benefits of running in the town you live in (population 5,000) when you run like I do:

1)  you are making a difference in your community
2)  you are SEEN making a difference in your community
2)  ummm.....

That's all I got.

Let me tell you the disadvantages of running a 5K in my condition alongside every person I have ever met:

1)  When I run I look worse than I did during any of my three childbirth experiences.
2)  They take pictures at these things...that go in the newspaper.  Newspapers are forever.
3)  Emergency personnel will be running so far ahead they will never know I have collapsed 3 miles back.
4)  I will be last.  Dead last.  Behind Old Man McGillicutty and his walker.
5)  The whole rest of the celebration - and in essence, the entire town - will be awaiting the moment I crawl across the finish line.
6)  My husband will (if he's smart) be wearing a paper bag on his head as I pass...if he shows up to root me on.
7)  I will always compare that race time to my PR, no matter how young and/or in shape I was at that time.

So I recalled an old route I had mapped for 3.2 miles around town and gave it a shot.  My first time was 38:49 - not as bad as it could have been.  My second time was 43:48.  I truly almost died on that run.  I was literally halfway when I almost hitchhiked home, but that's not safe so I hauled my sorry butt back home the rest of the way in that 98 degree heat.  My feet hurt, my legs hurt, my lungs hurt, and most importantly my pride hurt.  Needless to say I talked myself out of signing up for that 5K.  There's no way I would show my face at that race with that sorry time.  (Besides, I'm too late to get the t-shirt, and really, why bother running if you can't get the shirt?!)

My heel had been killing me for some time, literally screaming at me to either buy a new pair of shoes or insoles or I would die running on these "flat tires".  So the other day (payday) I drove my car up to Dick's Sporting Goods and bought those $20 insoles.  This morning armed with my new insoles I tackled that same 3.2 miles...with a time of 36:31. To quote the immortal Finn the Human, "YAAAAAAY-yuh!!"

Soooooo as of today I'm gonna do it.  There's a 5K coming up in October that my church is sponsoring called the River Run for Orphans (http://kansascity.riverrunfororphans.org/).  Wish me luck.  You will be with me every step of the way because I plan to post my running times here.  Hang with me as my times hopefully improve.

And no, I'm not signing up for the one in my town next weekend.  I won't run if I can't wear a t-shirt badge of honor for years to come.  Selfish?  Nah....just good old fashioned and well-executed procrastination.  :)

The Joys of Running

After wallowing in self-pity for the past few days from dropping off our oldest at college, I finally decided to get off my duff and get back out there.  While I was running I had a sudden welcome change of attitude and managed to even formulate a list of the joys of running outside.  Here they are, in no particular order...

The Joys of Running Outside

• Sprinklers
• Occasional cool breezes
• The first 3 blocks
• Neighbors
• Barbecue grills
• Singing birds
• Fresh-cut grass
• Asphalt
• Sunsets (and sunrises, I've heard...)
• Fresh air
• Sunshine
• Surprise rain showers
• Sweat
• Walk breaks
• Fragrant flowers
• Reflective shoes
• Downhill straightaways
• The last 3 blocks
• Stretching against a tree

Why Run?

By now you have figured out that I’m not one of those runners who will die if they don’t run every single day.  My brain cannot conceive of participating in a marathon without the use of a car.  I have never gotten “in the zone” while running and lost track of how many miles or minutes I’ve gone.  I don’t look like the scantily clad skinny girls on the cover of Runner’s World magazine when I run, all fierce and gorgeous.   I can’t even run more than three minutes at a time without my lungs screaming at me to PLEASE STOP RUNNING!!!   All this, despite the fact that I have been running for almost four years! 

I was, however, inspired recently to look inward by an article in RW by Marc Parent called “Why Run?” (you can read it here:  http://www.runnersworld.com/article/1,7120,s6-238-520-492-14403-0,00.html).  It got me to thinking: if I hate it so much, why do I still torture myself with it?  So I made my own personal list.

Why Run?

- My legs.  I’m 40 years old now, and despite the nasty spider veins and freckles, my legs look pretty awesome for a 40-year-old.  In my mind, when I run I am outrunning cellulite.  My flexed quads are rock-hard.  My calves rival J.Lo’s any day of the week.  After only a week or so of not running, my old friend cellulite creeps up and attacks me from behind.

- Endurance.  One of the oldest moms at Webelo camp, I’m not even breathing hard after a brisk uphill 3-mile hike where the boys are all whining and red-faced.  As a high school secretary, I can spring up and down those gym stairs in heels with ease to get that kid for his orthodontist appointment.

- Health.  My “bad” cholesterol is low, and my supposedly good cholesterol is where it’s supposed to be (the letters escape me…LDL, HDL, PMS, SOS…) when and only when I am running.  I will not drop dead of clogged arteries anytime soon simply because I run, despite my southern roots and tendency to fry everything and smother it in gravy…and my weakness for tortilla chips.

- The tan.  Oh, come on.  Everyone looks better with a little glow.  And I wear my mp3 arm-band tan line with pride, thank you very much.

- It’s absolutely free.  With the exception of a decent pair of shoes, it costs me absolutely no money.  All the cool gear and clothes are merely luxuries.  I hate to hear myself panting so I invested in the arm band, and I honestly think my new neon tank top makes me .0001 second faster.

- Alone time.  I can’t hear my kids fight when I am out for a run, simply because I am not home.  I’m not washing or cooking anything.  I don’t have to be nice to anyone.  I don’t have to answer a phone.  It’s just me and my music.  I can listen to Madonna and Korn and Barry Manilow all in the same run and no one complains.

- Accomplishment.  Sometimes on a bad run when I start to notice people staring at me from the comfort of their cars I focus on the fact that I am running (or quite probably walking at the time) and they are not; they are all thinking they should be exercising too.  Maybe I’ve even inspired them to do just that when they get home.  After all, if I’m willing to look like that in public (red-faced, sweaty, taking tiny shuffling baby-jog steps, and panting like a basset hound) they might think they probably wouldn’t look too bad at all.

- Pride.  After I run, I am proud of myself, no matter how bad the run was or how much I ended up walking.  I survived another run while someone else somewhere sat on his or her couch.  I did not let excuses keep me home this time.  I should get a medal for actually displaying the willpower to run when I really just wanted a nap.

- Endorphins.  I have never run long enough or far enough to feel any kind of runner’s high; I just survive 2.5 miles of running.  Then when I get home and stretch and am dripping with sweat and smelling like a crew of Georgia roofers after a day of work in late July, there is great satisfaction in the fact that I am done.  I feel good and ready to tackle whatever’s next in my day.

- Stress relief.  If I run when I am mad at my husband or exasperated with my kids, I will be angry no more when I get home.  This is almost a guarantee.  Unless he really ticked me off.

- Inspiration.  They say the best way to teach your kids is to live by example.  I hope my own kids see that anyone can and should exercise…maybe even run.  When they see me after a long day at work rubbing my eyes with a yawn on my lips but still lacing up my shoes and going out the door to run anyway, they will see that I have made the decision to do the right thing for myself that in the end benefits us all (see above).