One of the best things about getting older is the perspective one can only gain through experiencing life first hand, rather than blindly accepting what someone else tells you your outlook should be.  But sometimes, our frame of reference becomes tainted with age and we require the uncorrupted sophistication of youth to remind us to get the hell over ourselves already.

In March, one of the two high schools in town (where my son is a freshman) hosted it’s 3rd annual 5k & 10k races to raise money for the Class of 2015’s Safe & Sober Graduation Night.  One of my besties, JBD, nonchalantly asked if I’d like to run the 10k together and suggested we could rally our 12 -year-old daughters (who also happen to be BFFs) to run run/walk the 5k.  Because of the proximity of the race route to both of our homes, and the fact that the distance in question was a mere 6.2 miles, I’m sure that JBD was unprepared for my emphatically negative response:

Hell NO!

Now I normally love a good cause and am sure I’ve mentioned in previous posts what a fine humanitarian I usually am.  I assure you, my hesitation in participating in this particular event was no reflection of my regard to its importance,  but instead had everything to do with my gigantic ego.   I pathetically explained to JBD how my running pace had become extraordinarily slow and that I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of people I know with a subpar time or worse, come in DFL (I know, I spend a ridiculous amount of time worrying about this).  She patiently listened to my bullshit excuses (because that’s the kind of friend this gal is) and told me she understood.

Fast forward a couple of weeks- I received an email from one of the race’s organizers (another Mom at the high school) asking if I could help spread the word about the race to any fellow runners since the registration numbers were very low.  I was immediately entrenched in a moral dilemma- how could I possibly guilt trip people in to doing something I had no intention of doing myself on account of I’m a big, fat loser encourage others to participate in an event of which I wasn’t willing to be a part?  So yes not only did I register, but I distributed/hung flyers and talked the race up to my running buddies AND my daughter.  (My husband and son would be out of town that weekend so they were spared my campaigning efforts.)  Many of my friends jumped right on board while my little girl required slightly more convincing.  (I can’t imagine from where her strong will was inherited.)

However, although I was committed on paper I was still wavering internally, concocting all kinds of last minute excuses in order to save face.

I paid the registration fee so I’m financially helping the cause, AND I helped recruit other participants so I don’t actually have to run the race, right?!

Yes, shamefully these thoughts (and many more) completely absorbed me in the days leading up to the event.  I even attempted to off-handedly drag my daughter in to my web of cop outs.  She and her BFF attended a 6th grade party at the local rec center the night before the race and didn’t get home until 10pm.

My little baby couldn’t possibly run a 5k on only 8 measly hours of sleep.         

But when the human alarm (me) sounded on that fateful morning, my tenacious trooper jumped right out of bed and skipped down the stairs for some pre-run fueling.  As we chatted over cereal and coffee (mine), I had an out of body observation experience.   I saw a 12-year -old whom believed she was capable of running (not run/walking) 3.1 miles and was not the slightest bit concerned with her speed or any one else’s, who was up for doing anything with her best friend and her mom, and was super excited for a free tee shirt.  And then I saw myself-  and dragged my butt out of that chair and threw on some running clothes.

We walked to the race start with our besties, because yes we live so  close that participation should have been a no-brainer based on logistics alone.  After getting our swag, meeting up with friends and snapping some selfies, it was on.  6.2 leisurely miles through my neighborhood, with some friends, and strangers cheering us on (for doing something so simple) the whole way.  A couple of miles in, I had one of those epiphanies that I often experience when running.  I was reminded of how other runners, and the people who support us, are among my most favorite human beings.  And while I was conscious of my pace (I can’t physically run a race without my Garmin) the importance of my speed slipped away as I podded along.

Truth be told.  I did not completely evolve in the course of that 6.2 miles because when I saw my finish time (closer to what a marathon pace than a 10k pace should be) I might have cried a little (inside).  But I was inspired- to race more, to improve my speed, to have fun, to do what I love, to get out of my own way.  I’m pleased to report that both because and in spite of this, I’ve signed up for 3 half-marathons and 1 full-marathon in order to finish out my 2015 running happy.  I’m expecting there will be many blog worthy moments on  the way and I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

 

 

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