Victory. Is Mine.

There is something to be said for walking into a race with extremely low expectations.

Usually when I go to a race I am hoping to meet or beat a time goal. For the 15K I ran last weekend, my out-loud goal was to somehow ambulate through the entire course. My in-my-head goal was to actually run it—at whatever speed I could.

Per usual, I walked through water stops. Because of this:

Panel from The Oatmeal web comic showing a runner choking on water at a race aid station. The text reads "Do not stop running when getting a drink at an aid station. By enduring the "sprint-choke," you could shave three, possibly four seconds off your 5+ hour finish time! Remember: marathon success does not come from training or perseverance, it comes from waterboarding yourself at aid stations."

Please go buy the book this comes from immediately. You won’t be sorry.

But other than that, I ran the whole damn thing. All 9.3 miles of it. I really wasn’t sure I could do it based on my total lack of training—or any running at all—over the past month and a half. I was hopeful, but skeptical, especially considering the sharp incline that I knew I was going to have to run up roundabout mile eight.

My strategy? Run super ass slow. I averaged 13ish minute miles. I actively worked to not run fast for the first couple miles when I was still fresh. I was the tortoise letting all the hares pass me.

But the tortoise finishes.

Photo of me post-race with my Finisher medal around my neck. I am also holding a popsicle stick.

Related: The strawberry ice pop that used to be on that stick I’m holding was the best thing I’ve ever eaten.

I’m proud of me. Plus, since it is the first 15K I have ever run, my, like, two-hour time is totally a PR.

What’s more, I feel reinvigorated. I am ready to start hitting the (snow-free) sidewalks. My new treadmill was delivered to my house so I am prepared in case of rain. I have a full and fun race calendar ahead of me this year and I am ready to go. This race was hard, but I am so glad I did it. Bring on the next one.

10 thoughts on “Victory. Is Mine.

  1. You rock and don’t even know it. Pretty impressive for someone who hadn’t trained and thought you would walk. Way to go!!!!!

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