I ran a 10 km race yesterday. It wasn’t my first, and it probably won’t be my last.
I actually didn’t want to run it at all. For the past couple weeks I wasn’t feeling great about being out and running. It didn’t feel as fresh as it has in the past. It just felt tiring. I wondered why I had even signed up for this race. Last year, I had done the half marathon run with Run Melbourne as part of my marathon training.
I’m not training for a marathon this year, and since I ran the half marathon last year, I’d already run the 10k route as part of that.
I signed up because I wanted to run a sub-1 hour 10k. I had never done that before and I thought it might be possible on the Run Melbourne course because it’s a pretty flat course.
I never run races with a time in mind to beat. In fact, before smart phones and sport watches, I usually never had any idea how fast I ran any of my runs. My goal is usually just to finish a race and not have to walk as much as possible. But at this point, I’ve run a 10k distance quite a few times, so I know I can run that far without stopping, and I thought maybe I should try to beat my time too. Try to actually get under that one hour mark.
I told myself that if I tried hard and really worked at it, I’d be able to do it. So I wanted to prove to myself that I actually could.
However, leading up to the race, I wasn’t really feeling it. I meant to do regular strength training to improve my form and time. I didn’t really do that. I mean to run more frequently during the week, and I didn’t really do that either. Last weekend I ran 9.5 kms and had a massive migraine the rest of the day. It made me question my choice of running as a sport. I took it easy running during the week on Tuesday and Thursday.
I had not only one, but two dreams on Sunday night that I had missed the race.
My family wasn’t planning on meeting me there. Late Saturday night my husband said he’d try to get down with the boys to see me finish, but I wasn’t planning on having my cheer squad to look forward to during the race.
On Sunday morning when my alarm went off, I thought I should probably just stay in bed.
But I didn’t.
I got up. I got ready. I rode my bike down to the race. I decided to just run and see what happens. I know I would feel worse if I didn’t run.
So I ran.
At the 5k mark, I looked down at my watch and saw that it was over 30 minutes, so I didn’t think I’d have a chance at finishing under one hour.
But I kept going.
And I finished in less than an hour… with 15 seconds to spare!
I was reminded of why I love running.
There is a famous quote by Kathrine Switzer, the first woman to run the Boston Marathon wearing a bib (she didn’t tell them she was a woman). It was so outrageous back then that they tried to pull her off the course:
If you are losing faith in human nature, go out and watch a marathon.
-Kathrine Switzer
I always get a bit emotional at the beginning of a road race. Being around so many people who have all pulled themselves out of bed early on a weekend to run, for whatever reason they have, but there were literally thousands of people running for thousands of reasons.
When I’m running, I remind myself of how lucky I am to be running a race. I have my health, I have the time to train, I live somewhere that’s safe enough to run in with clean air and beautiful scenery.
One day, I may no longer be able to run, and I’ll probably wonder why I didn’t run more when I had the chance.
And even though I didn’t think I’d have a good run. Even though I didn’t want to do it at all. I did it. And it worked out with the best outcome I was hoping for.
Even now, after running dozens of 10ks, three half marathons, and a marathon, I can still surprise myself with running.
So I guess I won’t give up the sport yet.