As promised, I wrapped up my "training" and entered a 10k this weekend. Now, I have never been a fast runner. My last race was a marathon in 2002. And my training now that I work full time and have a preschooler is pretty…minimal. And I don’t do any running on a treadmill now and never drove my regular course, so I had no idea how fast I have been running. But I really hoped I could break an hour for the 10k. Overcast day, cool, clicked off–woah! 9 minute miles for the first three! For me, this is outstanding. But around mile 5 I slowed down a bit. Did "sprint" for the last .2 k, passing a few people (heh heh). Saw G and C on the sidelines. And check this out:
9:17 pace! So proud! A new personal best! (Looked up my previous 10ks–58:40 in 2001 and 59:54 in 2000)
Afterwards, met up with C and G. C said "you don’t look very happy. I did not cheer for you" and had been crying because a race official asked her not to hang on a rope (the same race official who stood directly between me and G as G was trying to take my picture in the last seconds of the race. Jerk.) G said "Let’s get out of here. I was up too early. I sacrificed to be here. I didn’t want to come, you made me. The only reason I came was to get a picture of you for you to scrap and that jerk stood right in my line of sight. You should be thankful to me!"
Oh. Note to self: plans that involve waking C and G up before 7 are a bad idea.
But later he said "When I saw you round the corner, I was so proud." And we went out for crepes and they both cheered up a bit.
No pictures available right now, and no promises that I will put one up when they are (I tend to be a very red-faced runner).