I’m wearing my 5k New Year’s race medal, and it was by far the worst race of yet. Not because of time – while I did not pr, it wasn’t the slowest 5k I’ve ever done. I just…crashed. Oh man, I crashed hard. I ran too fast in the beginning, not trusting what I can do, and I paid for it dearly. I wanted to quit that day. And I almost did. As Shalane said, I was “robbing from myself.” I almost walked, but somehow I managed to run to the finish line from the starting line. I was slow, yes. It wasn’t pretty, for sure.
I bought this Nike shirt the night before, and all I can think about was: just do it. A huge basic cliche, but it worked.
That time 25:33 will stick with me. Not because of the time itself. 25:33 was the moment I almost quit running altogether. I hated every minute, every second, every millisecond of that run. It didn’t help I had to tie my shoes when it came undone in the beginning of the race. I even ran backwards a bit to get out of the way to tie my shoes. Talk about being disoriented. 🙈🙉🙊 Yes, there were a hill right at the 3 mile mark, as well that I wasn’t mentally prepared for. Most importantly, I was a total douchebag to myself. (And it doesn’t help when you have an asthma attack). 🙄 Basically what could go wrong did.
It was a TERRIBLE run, but like Shalane said, sometimes the only thing you get out of the run is the fact that you finished. Hell, even if I finished like Pheobe in the show, Friends. My form was HORRIBLE.
I’m sharing this story once again for the people who feel defeated after a bad run. If it weren’t for the bad races, I wouldn’t relearn to enjoy running in itself. This race was a blessing in disguise. My resolution on that day wasn’t about any pr. It was about simply going back to basics of running – just enjoy the damn moment, you asthmatic elf.