I made it

....through the week and the race. Both were pretty much exactly as bad as I had predicted, but I powered through. The first week back at work, and the big annual meeting, went fairly well - despite the snow that never came but still forced an unplanned 'early release' for the meeting (a wee bit stressful) and a necessary '2-hour delay' on Friday (translation: getting to end the week by sleeping in and launching the workday in pjs).

Since I would be giving up my Saturday long run for the race, I was even more determined than usual to stick to my training schedule during the work week. I did end up having to switch a couple of the days and do a couple of evening runs (which I loathe), but by Friday, I had nailed the mileage total. A small success. And the knee pain had gone away, at least for the moment, so score 2 for me!

I kept a constant eye on the weather forecast and steeled myself for big chill on race day, but signs were pointing to the fact that I would likely be on my own. All week, I was receiving emails from my mom asking things like, "How dedicated are you to the race on Sat.?" And, believe me, I was a little tempted to take this bait. Instead, I responded, "Very." I knew that if it snowed, I would definitely be on my own, but even my offers to buy coffee and lunch post-race didn't seem to be convincing my mom that the cold temps wouldn't be that bad.

In the end, even with my Dad coming down with a cold mid-week, he and my mom both joined me for the race on Saturday morning. It was 20 degrees. Polar fleece was indeed on full display. My dad ended up putting the race t-shirt on over his leather coat. And my loving husband never wavered in his commitment to cheer us on and take pictures from the sidelines, which actually ended up being no picnic either.

So, this was my first race. I had never even watched a race, so I really had no idea what to expect. On Friday, I actually bought the most recent issue of Runner's World hoping to get some good pointers. And it was helpful - especially the tidbit reassuring me that running in sub-zero temps does not damage the lungs. Very good to know.

Today's event, The Run for Young, was in honor of a local teenager who was killed in a car accident, and the proceeds went to 2 funds set up in his name. Although I knew about all of the charity stuff and agree that it is a good cause, I had not expected that, at 10 o'clock (the advertised race time), there would be speeches and prayers before the starting signal. They really weren't even all that long, but with it being so cold, I could barely contain my impatience and I don't think I was alone. The entire crowd seemed to be wincing, teeth chattering, as they bounced on their toes, through the prayers and speeches and door prizes, right up to the anticlimactic announcement to "Start". (I guess I'm being silly, but I really expected a gun or, at the very least, a megaphone.)

I made the mistake of starting near the back with my parents and other walkers, so it took my a while to get well enough out of the throng to establish a good pace. However, once I broke through, it was smooth sailing. I regained feeling in my thighs and toes at about the mid-way point and happily waved to my parents when I saw them on the way back. It was motivating to always have someone in front of me, especially when it was a little kid - which their participation I found to be absolutely astounding.

I crossed the finish line at 29:27, not far off my treadmill pace for 3 miles but not as fast as I thought I would do. I grabbed the bottle of water that was offered to me and looked around for my husband. When I saw his red, puffy face, my eyes actually teared up. It was obvious that his lot had really been the worst. Running had warmed me up. Standing on the sidelines had turned him into a popsicle. He smiled, gave me a big hug and a kiss and assured me that he had gotten good pictures - not one complaint. True love indeed.

We had time to walk a couple of blocks, to cool me down and warm him up, as we waited for my parents to come around. They jogged across the finish line together at 48:23. Both are 50+, non-exercisers, one a cancer survivor, the other a meat-eating coke-guzzling chain smoker. I have never been so proud. And they are both already talking about the NEXT race! Seems there is a 5k in their town next month. And my dad might even wear actual running shoes (as opposed to the work boots he walked/jogged in today). My mom is all revved up, and still talking about that full marathon in October. We'll see.