The gun went off and I started my watch. Headphones were in, music blaring at a quick tempo. I looked like a walking Nike and Brooks ad with my Nike tights and vest and my peacock colored Brooks Ghost 8's. It was 8:45 in the morning. I am seriously crazy for doing this.
This thought cycled through my head as I started off running and weaving through the other women running this race. I dodged people as per usual with the starting line clog up. Today I would be running five miles. For me, miles one and two are usually the worst. I don't know what it is, maybe that the reality of an entire race is still ahead of me has something to do with it.
Mile three comes in a blink, I am shocked at how far and fast I have come already. The day is cloudy and drizzly, so I am the perfect temperature. I start thinking about the time I am aiming for, challenge yourself but don't be unrealistic. My thoughts lock onto a reasonable time.
My legs feel less sluggish and I focus on passing people as I curve through the course. Runner's high kicks in and suddenly, I remember why I woke up early on a summer Saturday morning. I feel strong, fierce, and extremely excited to be surrounded by a bunch of other crazy running lovers like myself.
Mile four. Wow, okay, feeling great. My next focus is that dreaded kick I need to have at the end. When running in high school, my cousin told me that I should not leave anything in me, put all my energy and endurance on the course. My strong point in racing is my ability to be extremely consistent in pace, the kick? Yah, not so much.
Between mile 4.25 and 4.75 I am gearing up for this last bit. I can see the inflatable arch where I will cross the finish line. We have to round a track in the final shoot. One woman is only a few paces ahead of me. Go. I start gaining on her and feel two others start catching up with us. We run as a unit for a couple strides. I feed off their energy and decide I won't be passed.
Take off. I start sprinting towards the finish. I hate that feeling where I almost can't feel my legs, but I keep going strong.
I left it all on the course.
Crossed the line.
And that feeling is why I keep running.
