Challenger Mission, Part III

The following takes place between 12AM and 10:30AM on the day of the Fleet Feet Ravenswood 5K Run. (blip.. bleep.. blip.. bleep..)

The cab dropped me off at my apartment at almost exactly midnight. I sighed when I saw that the broken glass in the front door had not been repaired while I was away. I stopped to check my mail, and sighed again when I pulled out a large envelope from the state of Illinois, knowing it must have something to do with my 2008 tax return.

I climbed the stairs and greeted my poor lonely cat, only to find more mail waiting for me on my desk. On that pile, there was a second letter from the state of Illinois. I rubbed my bleary eyes and opened both envelopes, only to find that they contained conflicting information. One said I had to fill out another form, while the other said I needed to take no action. Wonderful. It looked like another morning on the phone was in my future. However, I knew I could not do anything about it until Monday, so I set them aside.

I unpacked what I had to and looked up exactly where I needed to go for the race in the morning. As I put on my pajamas and brushed my teeth, yet another thing I had been fearing happened: I coughed, and I felt it all the way into my chest. In the past, congestion had almost always followed when I got a sore throat, and congestion was seriously going to affect my ability to run. After all I had been through, I was determined to get to the race, so I silently pleaded, please, phlegm, hold off just a few more hours…

I was about to lay down when I realized I had to go to the bathroom. So, I did, and just because of everything that could go wrong had to, the toilet clogged. This is not uncommon in my crappy apartment, and usually easily fixed, but of course this time I could not manage to get it unclogged. I gave up after a few tries, assuring myself that I’d remember and try again in the morning. I set my alarm for 6AM, and finally fell into bed at about 12:30AM.

I slept fitfully, both because I was nervous about not waking up on time and because my attention-deprived cat would rather I be awake. I got up with the alarm at 6 and started to get ready. I knew I had to leave by 6:45, so I tried not to dawdle. Unfortunately, I did not remember the toilet had clogged until after I flushed it again. I narrowly avoided an overflow, and then decided I would just wait until I got home to deal with it. I ate breakfast, checked the radar (no rain!), put on my race number, and drank some water. Then, as per usual for a race day, my nerves got to me and I had to go to the bathroom again.

I knew I had to leave in about 5 minutes, but decided to try to fix the toilet first. It was a ridiculous scene. I was using an old Cool Whip container empty some (clean!) water out of the toilet bowl into the sink so I could flush and plunge it again. I was on my second round of this, pondering what else could possibly go wrong today, when I heard my cat start throwing up.

Generally speaking, this would not be a big deal. But it meant I had to clean it up, which would cost me more time. Time that on this morning, I just did not have. But wait… it gets better! I stepped out of the bathroom to see that Fraidy is not just throwing up, she is throwing up ONTO MY RUNNING SHOES! I rushed to grab the shoes but didn’t quite get them out of the way. She at least threw up onto the toe, and not into the shoes, but for cripes sake! Even any other pair of shoes would have been better than this!

Now completely resigned to being late, I managed to unclog the toilet, clean off and lace up my shoes, and get out the door at about 5 to 7. I ran to the bus stop, realizing at some point that I forgot my watch. The least of my worries, really, but still annoying. I got on the bus and made it to the race site by 7:30. I drank a cup of coffee, dropped off my stuff at the racing team tent, and then stepped into the starting corral. I decided to line up between the 9:30 and 10:00 pace markers, which is where I would need to be if I wanted to break 30 minutes.

As I stood in the corral, it finally occurred to me that I was tired. I tried to tell myself that my finish time did not matter, but the truth was that I REALLY wanted to break 30 minutes, and was trying to prepare myself to be disappointed. I ran into a few people I knew, which was a nice distraction. But eventually, the race started, and I was in that solitary place that only a runner understands.

I looked for a clock when I crossed the start line, but did not find one. So, I just ran at a pace that felt doable. When I reached the 1-mile mark, the clock read 11 minutes. Since I didn’t know how long it took me to cross the start line, this did not tell me much, but I figured I was going at about a 10-minute mile. I knew this would not allow me to break 30, but I also knew I did not have the energy to speed up. So, in Energizer Katie style, I just kept going.

I crossed mile 2 when the clock read 20:10 or so, which meant I was running at just over a 9-minute pace! I was excited, but I tried not to overanalyze and, once again, just kept going.

In the end, I crossed the finish line when the clock read almost exactly 30:00, so I knew I broke 30. Satisfied – actually, elated – I wandered through the post-race festival, ate my fill of free bagels, cookies, and cinnamon rolls, and headed home. When I got there, I took my usual post-race photo and stretched out, then unpacked my suitcase. At about 10:30, I checked for race results online and found out my official time: 28:20, almost 50 second faster than my time at this race last year.

Victory, in the end. The past 24 hours had run the gamut of challenges and emotions. I was sad, satisfied, grateful, scared, bored, and frustrated. But none of that conquered me in the end. Just like I do when I run, I just kept going, and eventually I got through it. I’m actually quite proud.

However, remind me never to ask to be challenged again.