My first 10K race

Yesterday, I ran my first 10K race.  It was a beautiful thing.

I ran well, at a good pace.  Felt good the whole race.  At the finish line were Brad and my daughters Layne and Paige, cheering me on.

My prep during the week leading up was pretty simple.  Because my left ankle bothered me after my last long run in Ottawa, I ran no more than 3K last week.  I ran on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday morning.  Short, fast runs.

Saturday night, I went to bed early to make sure I had a good night’s sleep.  So important.

Sunday morning, I got up and did 15 minutes of relaxing yoga to calm my pre-race anxiety and to stretch.  I ate oatmeal with berries, nuts and milk.

And then I waited for the girls to get ready…….

Brad and the girls drove me to a couple of blocks away from the starting line and then set off for the finish line where they would greet me later.

I put myself in the last coral when I registered for the race.  I arrived about 30 minutes until my coral, the orange one, would start.  First thing I did was find the port-a-johns.

(Most important advice for running a race ever — DO NOT PASS A PORT-A-JOHN BY.  Start with as empty a bladder as possible.)

I found my group (big orange flag) and joined the front of the coral to stay ahead of the walkers.  I kept limber by stretching while in the coral waiting for the start.

Soon enough we were off.  And I was passed by wave after wave of runners.  I paid them absolutely no attention whatsoever.  I’ve been through this before on 5K races.  I knew I’d be passing many of them further down the race route as they walked.  (People think running is easy until they actually try it.)

So, I just ran, and ran.  I felt my left ankle just once or twice.  My right ankle complained a bit at around 6km for about  two kilometers and then I didn’t feel it again until I was finished.  Even then it was just the usual soreness from running that distance.  (Today I am pain-free.)

Unfortunately for me, I did not look at the route in detail and so I didn’t know exactly where the race would end.  A man near to me said to his wife with whom he was running, “See that bridge, Janet?  That’s the end. You can do it.”

I was counting on Janet’s husband being right.  He said it with such confidence.  But, Janet’s husband was really wrong.  He was about 800 meters wrong.  That’s almost 1K.

When I got to the bridge, the finish line was nowhere in sight.  I made the mistake of asking someone along the side of the road where the finish was.  The act of talking at the end of the race caused me to start sucking wind.  Which caused me to panic.  Which caused me to start sucking more wind.  Which caused me to start making a shocking noise that was very much like a siren.

With some serious self-control, I got myself in order just in time to hear my husband whistling and my girls screaming as I approached the finish line.

I was so happy when I crossed that line…and relieved.

When I finished, I looked at my watch to see how I did, of course.

My watch told me I set a personal record.  It said my 10K time was 1:13.  Then I got home and found my official race time on the web — 1:17.

It was my first 10K race, on Mother’s Day.  Which time do you think is MY official time?