Crowds, Kids, and Conversation...What I Learned in 3.1 Miles

As the crowd shuffled forward at the sound of the race gun, and I moved nearer to the starting line, I learned my first lesson about 5k racing... your race time doesn't actually begin until you cross the starting line. I know. I know. I can hear you sitting there saying, "Well, duh, stupid!" But really, how was I to know? By a stroke of luck (or I noticed someone else doing it), I glanced down at my watch as I passed under the starting banner. And with that, I was officially a 5k racer! Okay, a participant... "racer" might be a bit much! Filled with excitement, anticipation, and sheer joy, I glanced to the left to find The Hubby, who was no doubt, standing by with camera in hand. I saw him there, waiting at the ready, but my footsteps blended in with the crowd's, and I disappeared up the street before he could see me... Oh, well...

The next tip I quickly learned about crowds and races is this: everyone starts out bunched together with expectations of how far, how fast, and how long they will run, but give them a 1/4 mile or so, and the crowd begins to thin out... nice! The true 'racers' have long since moved on, half-way to the finish line, no doubt, with the athletically inclined following not too far behind. Then comes the rest of us in the order of our athletic prowess. I was holding my own - not too far back, but definitely not going to win any races! As the miles stretch out (how far could they stretch? There are only 3!), the crowd thins even more....

While dealing with the crowd at the onset of the race (think: bumper cars!), I also had to navigate around something I never expected, even considered: kids! Yes, these little buggers, many under 12, were running this 5k with the zeal and enthusiasm only a kid could show under such conditions! Like those annoying motorcycles on the freeway that cut in and out of traffic, these mini runners darted from side to side, angling past the "old farts" who surely were in their way, and forcing us to pay more attention to our footing. Couldn't they see we were already under duress, for goodness sake??? (They were awesome, though, hanging in 'til the final steps.)

The last lesson I learned as I traversed my 3.1 miles that day was that even though the race materials said "No headphones," I was soooo wishing I had them. I know you might be thinking, "Well, you need them for motivation, energy..." True. But I found another reason to need them during a race: to drown out the stupid, ridiculous conversations happening around me. Who cares what you had for dinner last night, or what the kids were fighting about! Shut up and run! Now, granted, there weren't many of these talkative trotters, but the ones that were there seemed to be next to me, no matter how fast or slow I moved... (Fortunately, this rule changed earlier this year.)

As the miles went by (and I was sure I was going to have a heart attack!), I marked my time and kept a decent pace, just hoping to finish this darn race. On the last leg of the course, I found myself, along with the other huffing and puffing runners, trying to peel layers of clothes off as we ran. It may have been cold that morning, but running 3.1 miles (no matter how slowly) heats you right up! And as we peeled, we came face to face with a hill, a hill? Now?? Here? Yep - a hill (really, just a slight incline in downtown Orlando, but it felt like a mountain at the point!). So up the hill we went, around a corner, past the lake one last time, and finally, rounding the last corner, we were in the homestretch.... the crowd cheered, the announcer boomed, and I cried...

I did it. I crossed that finish line on that cold Thanksgiving morning. My very first PR: 33:35 .... Not too bad for a newbie!