Discombobulated

The Big Race Day. Today was a "test race" to see how I'll go end of August at Sunshine Coast 5k (if I'm not called into work and can actually race!).
What can I say? While I'd like to say...

I guess I should try to stay positive and call it instead a "learning experience".
My friends & family have very kindly rallied behind me and offered me all sorts of excuses as to why I ran so much worse than I had wanted. But there is really no way I can weasel out of this.
I wasn't injured.
It wasn't (super) hot or humid.
I had slept average the night before.
I wasn't ill, or getting ill, or getting over being ill.

Chris & I travelling to the start and posing before the 5k map before we started out races.



In fact, I got to the start-line feeling more than capable of running an awesome race. My A-goal was sub-24.30 and my B-goal sub-25min. All faculties were fully functional and I had been getting butterflies all week in anticipation of how awesome this run would be.







Flustered from the start (you can see me towards the left of the screen)





And then it wasn't.

My coach had kindly suggested I start with a 4.55min/km and then get faster the second half, aiming for a sub-24.30min. It seemed so easy. I knew I was more than capable. After all, the first couple k's of a race I'm so full of energy and excitement I usually have to slow myself down! And after training so hard I had expected - as per usual - that keeping the pace to 4.55min for the first two km of the race would be a breeze. But for whatever reason, today it was a struggle from the first minute.
 The gun went off and I was flustered to find my trusty (or not so trusty) gps watch wasn't working. Again.
I re-set it, but unfortunately the gps then took a while to pick up, meaning that I had no reliable watch to use until I got my bearings via the km markers.
Yes, those handy little markers that every race has for runners who don't have a working gps watch. I didn't see the first km marker and was starting to stress out that we wouldn't have any. My inward state of discombobulation continued.
But fortunately the second km marker was there, as were all the others, and I felt my inner mathematician relaxed. Now I could calculate out a race pace!




Passing by my lovely support crew, race photographer, & friend David at about 1.5km into the race. I was still trying to get my head into the right space.

Kudos to the crowd - one of the best race crowds I've experienced! People were cheering for me and calling out my name throughout the course. No, they weren't psychic - my first name was  printed onto my bib in big bold letters.

At the 2nd km marker I was sitting at 9.55min. And I was exhausted. Instead of having to hold myself back these first 2k (as I'd thought I would have to do), I found myself having to push harder just to keep a 5-min pace. Then we hit the bridge. AKA, uphill. Because my race wasn't already going down the drain, it was time to hit me with a hill!
I'd like to say I dug deep. I'd like to say I found a way through the pain and pushed hard to have a WIN at the end of the race. I wish I could say that I triumphantly conquered the odds and met my goals with a smile on my face.
But then this would be a work of fiction.

Despite my best attempts, I slowed down. A lot.
To say I was disheartened would be an understatement. Running wreaks havoc with my emotions, putting me towards the extremes. (I hear it's true of lots of physical exercise). I was not disheartened - I was devastated. Thoughts of giving up danced through my mind. But I sucked it up. And I kept running.
At the 3k mark a fellow runner in my category had passed me. I let her go, as it was all I could do to put one foot in front of another. Going up on the bridge I noticed I'd closed the gap between us, but I was still too far back - and too close to giving up on myself - to give it much thought. But on the downhill side of the bridge I knew I had to give it my all.  That despite it all - because of it all - I still had my signature "sprint" finish. When we came down from the bridge that second time, I knew the finish line was just around the corner. So off I sprinted and left that gal in the dust. I nearly ran over a few kids doing the 2.2k (it had started 15min after our race) but they were so spread out no mishaps occurred.

Watch out, kids! I'm about to barrel you over! I am no one's friend in a race.

 

  I passed through the finish line in 26.09min. Not even close to my goal time. For those into math, I was nearly 15sec/km slower than my B-goal. David caught a photo of me at the end that I think sums it all up...