Runner's Forum -- for Beginners and Others
Creating Meaning from my 5K race
A few weeks ago I agreed with my husband Alan to do a 5K run-walk sponsored by the City of Huntsville & Wiesner-Huntsville. My plan was to keep a decent pace walking for the 3.1 miles. I thought it would be tough, but a good way to support Alan in his love for running.
As we lined up for the “race,” I saw there was a 1-mile fun run. I knew I did not want to do that because I don’t run unless someone is chasing me. Then, I noticed that the 5K did not say “Run/Walk”; nor did it say “Fun Run” (which are noncompetitive). It said “5K Run.”
Remembering the 7,000 or so people at the Austin Capitol Run (and the hundreds and hundreds of people who finished long after Alan did), my first goal was not to come in last. As the starting horn blew, however, I realized that about 30 people - all runners – were participants. With the main objective of “looking good,” I too, took off at a run. It took probably less than 200 yards after take-off before I changed my goal to keeping the other runners within my vision.... Next, I vowed to keep at least one runner within sight. Maybe it was after the second bend that this goal, too, had been missed. My only hope was that one of the older runners would tire and slow down (I’m turning 63 this week; Alan’s 75, and there was at least one other man above 70).
Since I’m not a runner, and since I had “proofed” much of Alan’s Beginning-Running.com newsletters and e-books, I knew I had no business running (not until I had warmed-up for a few minutes, and certainly not for the entire race). So, once everybody was out of sight and I still struggled not to look bad, I heard an oft-repeated question rattling inside my head, “Where else does this show up in your life?” Then my mind shifted.
Alone in thought, I realized that I often do not play my life to win, but I play “not to lose.” I detest losing and “not looking good.” So, I either refuse to play or – once I see I’m not going to win, not going to “look good,” and am going to (by my definitions) lose - I simply bail out. I quit. I take my marbles and go home.
That is, I used to do that. Yesterday, I chose differently: “Even if I keep these volunteers waiting the full two hours allotted to the race, I am going to finish this.” Even if I came in last. Even if I didn’t look good. Even if everybody saw my bulging varicose veins and thought that old women ought to stay home and knit. Whatever, this was a contest with myself. But it had nothing to do with time, how many people were in front of me, nor how many were behind. I was going to cross that finish line.
At Mile 1, my right knee started giving me fits. About Mile 2, a volunteer gave me some cold water – which I felt my stomach was going to reject. Several hundred yards before the last curve, a group of young volunteers began cheering me on. When I told them I was last, they followed behind me and tried to cheer me into picking up the pace. I appreciated their enthusiasm. Since suffering is a choice, I decided to ignore their idea to run. Instead I kept walking. As I turned the last corner, I saw the time clock was sitting on about 49 ½ minutes. I suddenly decided maybe I could cross the line before the clock turned over 50 minutes. I came close, but with polite cheers behind and in front, as I crossed the finish, the number was 50:06.
That time – and even that distance - meant I had set some personal records. Yesterday I “ran” my first 5K. I made a mile in an average of 16.14 minutes (3.7 miles per hour). But the greatest personal record for me was that I finished, even when I knew I was way behind the next-to-the last runner. I felt good because I had purposely ignored my program of “look good or quit.”
One other record set: Having not stretched properly before or following the event, I am possibly the sorest all over that I have been in decades.
So, Beginning-Runners, do listen to my beloved husband Alan. He knows what he’s talking about when he says how much to increase, when and how to stretch. We can bend the rules sometimes, but I’ve found that when I try bending them too much, it is I – not the rules – that break.
As far as entering contests to “beat others,” do so if you wish. But most of all, commit to yourself to look within: Identify the programs that are holding you back. Set goals that are meaningful to you. Regain trust in yourself as someone who keeps your word, not only to others, but to yourself as well.
Above all, remember to s-t-r-e-t-c-h. By seeing yourself as someone worthy and capable of what is in your heart, stretch yourself just a bit more each time. Eventually, you will reach your goal and your vision.
As we lined up for the “race,” I saw there was a 1-mile fun run. I knew I did not want to do that because I don’t run unless someone is chasing me. Then, I noticed that the 5K did not say “Run/Walk”; nor did it say “Fun Run” (which are noncompetitive). It said “5K Run.”
Remembering the 7,000 or so people at the Austin Capitol Run (and the hundreds and hundreds of people who finished long after Alan did), my first goal was not to come in last. As the starting horn blew, however, I realized that about 30 people - all runners – were participants. With the main objective of “looking good,” I too, took off at a run. It took probably less than 200 yards after take-off before I changed my goal to keeping the other runners within my vision.... Next, I vowed to keep at least one runner within sight. Maybe it was after the second bend that this goal, too, had been missed. My only hope was that one of the older runners would tire and slow down (I’m turning 63 this week; Alan’s 75, and there was at least one other man above 70).
Since I’m not a runner, and since I had “proofed” much of Alan’s Beginning-Running.com newsletters and e-books, I knew I had no business running (not until I had warmed-up for a few minutes, and certainly not for the entire race). So, once everybody was out of sight and I still struggled not to look bad, I heard an oft-repeated question rattling inside my head, “Where else does this show up in your life?” Then my mind shifted.
Alone in thought, I realized that I often do not play my life to win, but I play “not to lose.” I detest losing and “not looking good.” So, I either refuse to play or – once I see I’m not going to win, not going to “look good,” and am going to (by my definitions) lose - I simply bail out. I quit. I take my marbles and go home.
That is, I used to do that. Yesterday, I chose differently: “Even if I keep these volunteers waiting the full two hours allotted to the race, I am going to finish this.” Even if I came in last. Even if I didn’t look good. Even if everybody saw my bulging varicose veins and thought that old women ought to stay home and knit. Whatever, this was a contest with myself. But it had nothing to do with time, how many people were in front of me, nor how many were behind. I was going to cross that finish line.
At Mile 1, my right knee started giving me fits. About Mile 2, a volunteer gave me some cold water – which I felt my stomach was going to reject. Several hundred yards before the last curve, a group of young volunteers began cheering me on. When I told them I was last, they followed behind me and tried to cheer me into picking up the pace. I appreciated their enthusiasm. Since suffering is a choice, I decided to ignore their idea to run. Instead I kept walking. As I turned the last corner, I saw the time clock was sitting on about 49 ½ minutes. I suddenly decided maybe I could cross the line before the clock turned over 50 minutes. I came close, but with polite cheers behind and in front, as I crossed the finish, the number was 50:06.
That time – and even that distance - meant I had set some personal records. Yesterday I “ran” my first 5K. I made a mile in an average of 16.14 minutes (3.7 miles per hour). But the greatest personal record for me was that I finished, even when I knew I was way behind the next-to-the last runner. I felt good because I had purposely ignored my program of “look good or quit.”
One other record set: Having not stretched properly before or following the event, I am possibly the sorest all over that I have been in decades.
So, Beginning-Runners, do listen to my beloved husband Alan. He knows what he’s talking about when he says how much to increase, when and how to stretch. We can bend the rules sometimes, but I’ve found that when I try bending them too much, it is I – not the rules – that break.
As far as entering contests to “beat others,” do so if you wish. But most of all, commit to yourself to look within: Identify the programs that are holding you back. Set goals that are meaningful to you. Regain trust in yourself as someone who keeps your word, not only to others, but to yourself as well.
Above all, remember to s-t-r-e-t-c-h. By seeing yourself as someone worthy and capable of what is in your heart, stretch yourself just a bit more each time. Eventually, you will reach your goal and your vision.
Comment
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Comment by nipday on September 8, 2008 at 11:37am - Congrats on your accomplishment!! I'm new to running and the idea of competing against self is liberating and helpful to me. It's all in one's perspective. I'm excited of the challenges and accomplishments I will experience in the future!
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