It really started as a joke.
Last week I wrote that I needed to remove a little pressure from my schedule and run my own 5K on Saturday instead of entering an actual race.
Only my ma had a t-shirt made, didn’t she?
Apparently once the t-shirt lady clearly understood this was just a race I made up, she found it hilarious to print “finisher” on it. After all, there was no guarantee I would place.
Well, for your information, I came in first, but that is only because my annoying trainer (you know, the one who talks all the time) dropped back to let me come in first. It was my best race time of the year, and certainly the one with the least amount of pressure for a gal who’s really bad at competing. (Bad because I hate to lose and therefore do not wish to play. Know what I mean?)
Of course, I will race in a “real” race again, but this was just the perfect thing for this moment in my life. I was able to run the route that I have been training on the whole summer. I was able to run part of a section of my first 5K. I was able to retrace that first mile. Remember that one? The mile I didn’t think I could run?
Look at me now in my bad (ahem) a** mother runner headband and the world’s greatest t-shirt!