I competed in a running race today, which is Sunday. Not to be confused with the previous day which was Saturday - the day I thought the run was on. Which isn't a big deal when you live in the city the race is in. Then, getting the day wrong is an annoyance. But when you live in the country and you drive an hour into the nearest town to find out that you got the date wrong, that can be classified as a royal pain in the ass, not to mention a waste of gas. And now after writing that last sentence I can't help but think of that obnoxious bumper sticker I used to see on the odd vehicle: "Ass, Gas or Grass - nobody rides for free". I wish I hadn't thought of that to be honest because now I have visions of some big, stupid truck with that bumper sticker along with those mud flaps that have a female big boob'd silhouette and probably some fuzzy dice hanging on the rear view mirror. Jesus, this is like a bad song in my head. Oh shit... now I have the song "Oh What a Night" going off. Most likely one has to be over 40 to even remember that crappy song. Now I'm dating myself. Boy, these tangents can get perverse.
Lets get back to the race shall we? I got there this morning to see what I expected to see yesterday. People in tights and shorts milling about, a race clock and orange tape marking the finish line - this looks right!
I got my race number and began to feel the familiar jitters that accompany a race. These were very mild jitters compared to trail marathon butterflies which, when I think about it, are more akin to marauding elephants. An 8km distance is fun and even if it isn't fun, at the very least its short term non-fun compared to 4 or 5 hours of marathon non-fun. The main difference now though is that in years past when I ran plenty of 10k races I was only competing against myself and not my peers. The easy answer as to why this was is simple; I was a slow runner. It wasn't for lack of trying, I trained diligently. However, the idea of being competitive enough to even make it into the top 10 of my age category was kind of laughable. I'm not being hard on myself, its just the plain truth. It never dulled my enthusiasm for racing though. I loved getting the T-shirts, training, the camaraderie of like minded friends and of being a "runner". Being a slow runner was immaterial to me, I was happy to race against myself and keep improving. Getting on a podium was completely out of my league.
After 20 years of running, the unthinkable happened, this fall I made it on the podium for a second place finish in my age category in a trail Half-marathon in Canmore. To say I was on cloud-nine would be a gross understatement. It didn't matter to me that there were only 4 women in my age category. Making it to the podium in my mid-40's was like a minor miracle, I didn't think I had it in me.
What has been on my mind since then is: "Can I do it again or was this a one off?" I was eager to test myself on the Trail Marathon in Napa and I trained like a dog for that race in preparation. But as un-luck would have it, I started to feel poorly a couple days before the race and once I was actually in the race I quickly realized that finishing would be my reward - and it was. So after a month of recuperating from pneumonia, I got back running again and started to feel strong enough to try something less strenuous but still interesting. This 8km race seemed like the perfect venue.
I hadn't run a shorter distance road race in so long I really had no idea of what to expect from myself. I knew from the last relay race I participated in this past summer (Hood to Coast), that my overall speed had improved and I had every reason to assume I could run faster than I did 10 years ago. But how much faster? I checked out the last years race results that were posted online to get an approximate benchmark of the times in my age category: 40-49.
After guestimating my race pace, I surmised that there was a "reasonable" potential that I could finish in 2nd or 3rd in my age category. Maybe - why not? It was worth a go at any rate.
Once the race started I promised myself I would push in pursuit of my time goal - I could suffer for 38 or 40 minutes if need be. The suffering was minimal and by the 7km mark I knew I would make my time goal. Man that felt great! Based on last years results that would have gotten me a second place finish (in my category) but this year it was a third place finish. The 2 other gals were faster than last years placings and good on them! What jazzed me was getting on the podium again, it's a rush! I know it doesn't mean much in the big scheme of things but finding some measure of personal success in this sport "now" in my mid 40's is super-cool to me. My glory days aren't in the past, in fact it's the complete opposite. The best is NOW and who would have thunk? Talk about delayed gratification! I think I enjoy it now way more than if it had come easy to me when I first started running.
What ever age we are I think its important to acknowledge our accomplishments when they present themselves. Not just in sports of course. Perhaps the win is in satisfaction from a career, raising great kids or surviving life's difficulties. Maybe the win is more subtle in the knowledge that we can persevere with grace and actually get better at things like acceptance, patience and empathy. It might be as simple as recognizing how far we've come and choosing to focus on the pluses not the minuses.
I'm going to stop now lest I turn this blog into some sort of Hallmark Card euphamism and say something really barfy like "Dance like nobody is watching" or "Love like you've never been hurt."
In light of that: "Ass, Gas or Grass - Nobody rides for free" doesn't sound so idiotic after all. Now if I could only get that stupid song out of my head it would all be good. Sing along with me! "Oh I... got a funny feeling when she waaalked... in the roooom..."
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