Runnin' fool

I haven't blogged about it lately, but I've continued to run ever since I trained for that really cold 5k back in November. I ran on the treadmill all winter, and now that the weather is nice I run at a local park. I've been able to run longer and longer distances; I've had a couple of runs now where I've run about six miles without stopping, which amazes even me. I'm not really sure how I do it, even while I'm doing it. It's like my brain separates from my body, and my body keeps on running while my brain is going, "What the HECK, body? What the HECK?"

The whole six-mile thing made me get a little bit cocky, so when I signed up for another 5k, I thought it was going to be a breeze. I thought I'd sail through to the end and then say, "Oh, is that it? Isn't there any MORE to this cute little race? HA HA HA!"

Well, obviously, the 5k heard me trash-talking it behind its back and decided to kick my butt.

The first half of the race, I did really well. Then we had to turn around and run the other direction, and I discovered the reason I'd done so well during the first half was because I had a 100-mile-an-hour wind at my back, and now I was running directly into said 100-mile-an-hour wind. (OK, so it wasn't 100 miles an hour, but it was at least ninety-nine miles an hour.) Then we had to run back over this bridge in downtown Kansas City:



Now, running over the bridge during the first half of the race was fine. The bridge seemed like this:



Running over it the second time was a little different. The second time, it seemed like this:

Plus, did I mention it was, like, 80 degrees at nine o'clock in the morning?

So, there I was at the top of The Biggest Bridge in the World, trying not to cry/fall down/throw up, when an official race photographer took my picture. In the photo, I look really mean, like I'm about to grab his camera and throw it over the edge of the bridge. I might have done it, too, if I hadn't been focusing all of my energy on trying not to cry/fall down/throw up.

I had one last resort: My iPod lets me select an emergency "Power Song". If you get into trouble while running, you simply hit the "Power Song" button, and your favorite song will -- in theory -- help you get through the race. Mine is "Bad Medicine" by Bon Jovi, but it turned out that not even that could help me. Now my brain was going, "OK, don't cry, don't fall down, don't throw up, and SHUT UP, BON JOVI!! SHUUUUUUUUUUUUUT UP!!"

See? The bridge did me in. I was not myself.

But I finished the race eventually, and Jay and WCK were at the finish line with a big sign that said, "Run, Momma, Run!" I got twelfth place in my age group, and I didn't die. Bon Jovi and I made up a few days later, which is a good thing, because I'm running another 5k this Saturday. I'm sure THIS time it will be really, really, really easy, though. Right?

Don't tell the race I've been trash-talking it behind its back.