SARC (Summit Athletic Racing Club) sponsored the Great New Year's Eve Race at 4:00. The weather looked cold, but runnable. . .until I set foot in the parking lot. I've been running for less than a year, so every race I run is a new experience. My running buddies told me that this was a fun race, and the jacket is super-cool. Okay, I can endure anything for under thirty minutes, right? It had BETTER be for under thirty minutes.
|This is the hill I had to run. Twice. Look all the way up.|
As soon as the siren blew, the snow blew along with it, right into our faces. It got colder and slicker with each step. I was amazed to see a group of women dressed as Playboy Bunnies, complete with bustiers and tiaras. "Don't mock them, " a friend told me. "They are much faster runners than either of us."
I didn't match or break my personal record for the 5k, so I have to take my victories where I can find them. As I was running uphill (again!) to come back to the finish line, a man next to me decided he was going to blow by me. Because I have a good coach who makes me do the painful stuff, I knew that wasn't going to happen. I kept my pace, and within thirty seconds he dropped back, gasping, while I chugged on ahead. Maybe I had a tiny, smug smile on my face. More likely, I was trying not to keel over.
After the race, I basked in the glow of endorphins while sipping lukewarm soup. Was it worth it? The runner's high was incredible, but I don't know if I'll do it again. I suppose that because of global warming I'll be able to run this race in shorts and a tech tee in future years.
But that damned hill will still be there.