Back it up to last Thursday and I woke up with a cold :/ Who gets sick two days before their first ever 5K? This girl.
I diffused/applied my essential oils (OnGuard for the win!), guzzled Vitamin C and napped while the dishes didn’t do themselves. That put me nearing wellness by race morning. Phewf. Crisis averted. Quitting out of the question.
I woke up, rallied the troops and carefully selected my race outfit. Appearances are everything when you’re a glistening mess. Amiright? Then I moisturized my face with a lil’ SPF, donned my 3D mascara (still love it!) and braided my lion’s mane. And that’s as 5K as I know how to be.
Now, the play by play of how this 5K went down.
Arrived at the race site, barely in time. The kids were still in their pajamas because they refused to get dressed.
Fed them applesauce pouches and exchanged my shirt size because I registered for a medium and was swimming in it.
Wrestled Max into his buckle as he yelled “DOG” every 1.4 seconds. There were a bazillion furry creatures at this race because it was in support of a local veterinary hospital – Max was majorly amused. Jem kept telling me how tired she was and how she just needed the stroller to be a cozy bed.
They rallied the racers to get in line. Fast people, then fast people and fast dogs, then dogs, then us normal folk. No mention of first time mother runners with ginormous strollers so I just nestled myself in the middle.
We started off and I breezed through mile 1. Really up to 1.5 miles I was a cruising’ lady. My only struggles the first half were a dozen dogs hell bent on cutting me off and becoming BOB stroller road kill. Little four-legged friends! I cannot stop the orange beast at a second’s notice. I need at least 2 seconds. So, bark or something … ok? And stay by your master. I am not she. Now, dog runner people. When there are a bazillion people and dogs running in a pack on a small trail I’ve got two words for you. Short leash. Deal?
I took a minute walking break around mile 1.6 because there we merged onto a road there was a darn incline. I suck at running up any sort of incline with the stroller. It morphs into 200 pounds instead of its regular 100 and I just can’t handle. So, walk, breath, walk, breath, crest the hill and mentally prep to jog again.
By this time, I’d found my place in the race – no more tripping on dogs! – and Jem could not longer keep her thoughts to herself. Of course, dogs were on her mind so she started off her conversation like so …
Jemma: Can I get a dog for my four birthday?
Gretchen: Um … huff, huff, … no.
Jemma: I really really want a little cute dog! A fluffy yellow gold one with a tiny nose.
Gretchen: That’s a pomeranian. Definitely NO … huff, huff … maybe Kiki will get a dog someday though. Her’s will be big though … huff, huff … called a lab.
Max: BIG!!! BIG!!!
Jemma: Quiet Max! I’s talking’ to mama! Now, mama, I’s gonna ask Kiki to get some kinda dog for my four birthday. I really love dogs and I PROMISE I will take care of it. With food and water and lots of walks. And protein so it stays healthy.
This conversation happened alongside a few other runners and they thought we were pretty funny. I agree. Jem is my daily hoot.
At mile 2.1 I thought to myself – This is stupid. People who run are just stupid. I wonder if I text Dom if he’ll just come and find me so I can get a salted caramel hemp latte (new obsession). Uh, and I’m soooo sweaty. I hate sweating.
I pushed through thanks to Pink crooning in my ear; girl always comes through for me. And then, on the verge of mile 3 I passed someone. A three legged dog. But whatever. It was someone/some dog!
I rounded the corner towards the finish line and some darling volunteer told me to stop. WHAT?!? Yep, we needed to cross a road and there was a line of cars (not in a race) who needed to take their turn. BAH! How was I supposed to win now???
Anyways, I caught my breath while the cars moseyed on by and then sprinted towards the finish line.
110th place out of 336 runners.
My running app actually said I went 3.2 miles too! And I pushed 37 pound Jemma, 36 pound Max and a 34 pound stroller. I say I’m awesome because running is hard. Running with 107 pounds is extra hard and therefore, extra awesome. I am extra awesome.
I smiled with my medal. Chugged some water and ate a banana. I did it!!! I ran a 5K!
Well, jogged. But that’s neither here nor there. Because I’m extra awesome. I’m a mother runner!