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Monday, October 11, 2010

I Am the Champion!


That's me! #161. I haven't been labeled with a number involving sports since the 6th grade. Even then I was chosen last. I'm going to start signing everything "Julie K. #161" like everyone signed my yearbook in high school. If you'd like, you can even start referring to me as "161". I am willing to answer to it.

C. and I were in a 5k race on Saturday. Before we were even invited to be on our bank's team, I had been jogging on an almost daily basis, just to avoid that jiggly feeling that comes after sitting on the couch too much. I was fairly diligent about practicing, not because I cared about finishing in a good standing, but more because I didn't want to embarrass myself by passing out halfway through the race. I didn't really care how well I finished, I just wanted to make it across the finish line. After we were asked to be on the team, C. started jogging a few times a week to get in shape for the race. His daily work prevents him from having that jiggly problem. I think he secretly wanted to be the first one to cross the finish line, pumping his fists in victory as his chest broke the finish line tape.

I went into it with two goals:
1. Finish in 35 minutes (I know that's nothing special, but I like to set realistic goals)
2. Run across the finish line (as opposed to dragging myself across, wheezing and gasping for breath)

I enjoyed jogging in the race. The course was fairly flat, which is extremely unlike the path I am used to taking. My daily path is a fairly steep hill for the first half, then downhill for the second half. That hill really wears me out! On a normal hilly day, I take quite a few breaks to walk, but I managed to jog a good portion of the course on Saturday. Maybe I just didn't want to damage my pride by walking when everyone else seemed to be running. I especially looked forward to the halfway point where there was a water table. I wanted to be one of those cool marathon runners that splashed water in my face, then threw my cup into the nearest yard. Since I'm not a cool marathon runner, I slowed to a walk to take water from one of the nice ladies, took a few sips, then politely sat it on the curb not far from where the water stand was. My proudest moment was passing three people in the last few blocks of the race. That was super fun. I deemed myself the winner at that point.

I was very pleased with both of our results. They give you two times, one is your "gun" time which means your time starts when the gun goes off at the beginning of the race. The second is your "chip" time, this one starts when the little plastic chip that is attached to your shoe crosses the start line. We were pretty far back in the crowd at the beginning of the race, and it me 10 seconds to cross the start line after the gun, which means my chip time is shorter. I prefer to say that I finished the race in 34 minutes, 39 seconds (as opposed to the 34 minutes, 49 second gun time that decided the official results). They divided the women and the men, and of 101 women, I placed 35th. They also divided us by age group. In my 20-35 age group, I was 14 out of 41.

C. is a punk. I don't like racing against him. He went jogging maybe ten times to prepare for this. Maybe 10. He finished the whole stinkin' thing in 27 minutes and 49 seconds. He was the 32nd man to finish out of the 65 who raced. And the was 9th of the 18 in his age group. Next time I'm in a race I have decided that he can't come.

1 comments:

Glynn @ A Reel Lady said...

C is a dr pepper fueled running maniac I decided. I would have been the person crawling across the finish line. Kudos to you 161! I'm proud of you!