How to Not Run a Race (not to be confused with How Not to Run a Race, which implies one actually participated in the race)

Step 1 - Fake Yourself Out.
For ultimate effect, make yourself feel as though you are very prepared for race day (even though this is far from the case - see Step 2). Add the race to your calendar months in advance. Follow a carefully thought out training regimen. Purchase gels and new running tights to add to the excitement. Pick up your packet ahead of time to prevent waiting in lines on race day. Lay your race day clothing and gear out the night before. Plan out and partake of your lucky race day breakfast - whole wheat english muffin with peanut butter, a banana and green tea. All of this should perfectly set up a false sense of preparedness guaranteed to intensify the effects of Steps 2 and 3.

Step 2 - Forget that You Forgot to Preregister.
This is where putting the event on your calendar really comes into play, and it's much better if the race is very popular with no chance of last minute sign-ups.

You thought you preregistered. You thought you had, as you are want to do, saved a pdf of the registration receipt and filed it neatly in the folder designated for race receipts. So, you go to pick up your packet the day before and find your name missing from the list. You are bewildered, of course. For added effect, convince the race organizers/volunteers that something must have happened with their system so that they feel bad, take down your information and promise to check into it. This should be more than enough to keep you out of the race. Unless........

I had this one nailed until a registered runner showed up - at the very moment when I was going to give in and admit that I had lost my mind - to say that he was injured and could not run. He generously offered me his number and the race officials agreed, as long as I didn't mind looking up my time under "Dan" and Dan didn't mind my time being recorded under his name. They even gave both of us the free tech shirt.

So, if some such nonsense happens to you at Step 2, proceed to Step 3.

Step 3 - Drive Yourself and Arrive Late
Since you are the type of person who hates arriving early to anything, set your alarm so that you have just enough time to throw on your clothes, grab your breakfast and go. Tell your spouse not to worry about getting up and going with you - he can come later for the finish. You don't know any other runners, so carpooling is not an option. Stop at a gas station along the way to use the restroom so that you won't have to wait in line at the port-a-johns. Arrive approximately 15 minutes before the scheduled start so that you can be waved away from all of the full parking lots and told that you will not have time to make it back from the furthest lot to the starting line. Drive around frantically anyway until all hope is gone and you finally accept the fact that you will not be participating in this race. Sulk as you drive to the nearest Dunkin Donuts to drown your sorrows in a hot latte.

Step 4 - Stage Your Own Race
(optional but strongly recommended)
As you drive home, think about what a waste it will be to NOT run the race distance today - all that training in vain. Start to ponder the possibility of doing it anyway, just for yourself. Come to the conclusion that this is indeed the best way to both get over the embarrassment of what has transpired and put all that hard training to good use.

This is exactly what I did, and what my husband helped me do when I returned home. We set up the inaugural Butner I-85 Service Road 10 Miler - complete with Honda Fit odometer certification, official iPod timing, a water station and designated race photographer. And, just to be clear, the Butner I-85 Service Road 10 Miler is a headphones REQUIRED event. No exceptions.

I finished the BISR 10 Mile race in 1:40:06, a decent time given the absence of a crowd to pace with. My husband ran the first 4 miles and then stood in as the race photographer. Honestly, it was probably more fun than the actual race I had planned to run in. Though I do not plan to repeat what happened today, at least I know how to respond if faced with a similar set of circumstances.

and so it goes

Well, it's almost been a whole year since I started this experiment, and I ran 7 miles today without getting winded. With the exception of taking a brief summer hiatus after the Boone marathon, I have kept up a 4-day a week running schedule and have continued signing up for about one race a month to keep me motivated. I have a 10-mile trail race this Saturday and, though I have not really been doing much distance training, I feel pretty good about it.

This time last year, running was about the furthest thing from my mind. Today, I think I've advanced beyond poseur-dom and could possibly get away with calling myself a real runner. I no longer feel like a spectator when I read Runner's World and the idea of dropping a couple hundred bucks on a gps watch is seeming more and more sane every day. I have now run in 3 5ks, 3 10ks, 2 half marathons and 1 full. By the actual one year mark (Thanksgiving), I plan to have added this weekend's 10 miler, and another 2 5ks.

Races have to be my favorite part of the whole business. Signing up early and having tangible goals to work toward is exactly what I need to stay focused. Races are the best kind of SMART goals because they carry the possibilities of injury and humiliation if I blow off training. And, even better than setting a new PR, is the opportunity to do it with my new running partner - yes, my hubby has now been running with me for over a month and will run with me in those next 2 5ks.

So, how long is it they say you have to do something before it becomes a true habit? I know it's not quite been a year yet, but I think I can safely say that I have become a habitual runner. Hopefully, I'll look back a year or so from now (as I am hopefully getting ready for the NYC marathon, wink, wink) and recognize the first glimpses of the accomplished, almost middle-aged, overworked grad student athlete I will become.