I’ve been on a upturn in a sense, just making sure that running and exercise is part of my life. I’ve been struggling getting back into upper body work but whatever, I’m trying.
A month or two ago I registered for a 10k race that starts about half a mile from my condo. I was probably drunk when I registered for it, full of ego and whatever. I had already been training but there is something about the looming dread of a race to inspire you.
I’ve been drinking too much. There, I said it. I’m going to drink less. That’s not the point of this.
I get really bad pre race anxiety and you stack that on top of my insomnia it turns into basically sleeping poorly.
I wake up and start hydrating, stretching and the sky looks fucking dark as fuck, like something out of a NIN video. I drink some protein powder after the emergenc/gatoraide mix that I live on now.
It’s easy to start thinking “fuck this, it’s raining”. You already have the shorts on. Ginny is texting you and you are texting her. She’s encouraging you. I love having her in my life, anyway.
I walk outside into the rain and walk to the starting line in bucktown. I cower under the pavilion while I wait for my wave to start.
It continues to rain as we start. I don’t like this sport anymore. I didn’t start strava because i could barely unlock my phone because of being soaked and was barely able to unlock it and start spotify.
Fuck it. Let’s go. The first 2-3 miles were rough but once I got through those I started to just really push myself. The fun part about this race is apparently the 2 sets of hills that are fucking tricky to scale while in the rain and even more tricky running down the hills.
Edit 12/15/2020 So this was set in my drafts until Ginny told me that I haven’t posted in a while so I published everything in my drafts except this.
I finished the race in a fury. The last 2-3 miles I was keeping pace with a woman who was running at about my pace and then the Tool really kicked in and I just left them all behind. The finish line was in sight and my sight started getting blurry when Chocolate Chip Trip started to hit.
Ginny, being almost a child at 29 to my 40, had never seen the Animatrix before. I didn’t even ask if she had seen all of the movies but it’s one of my favorite movies. In one of the novelties (sp, fix later), one of the characters is running a sprint and the matrix agents are watching him to see if he breaks through and then disconnect him if he does.
It felt like this, it went beyond the spear and the woolly mammoth hallucinations I get often when I run +5 miles but I could feel matter stripping away.
You have to keep it into perspective. I am…struggling with my life, not eating well, drinking too much, everything else. I’m both training, running several times a week and body fitness everyday but also doing everything to destroy my psyche and body because…i dunno anymore, that’s for another post.
So when I hit mile 5 and I could see mythical fountains, I turned on the gas and tuned into the ancient mitochondria that fuel my hate and love for this world. The pain started to melt away and the last half mile, it didn’t even hurt.
I crossed the line and a gentleman said “you look like you need a beer” and handed me a budlight. My body is trying to acclimate itself it stop moving through time and space and chug the budlight and toss it in the can before I watch the winners.
It blows my mind how fast they can run looking at their times but I just feel admiration and respect, not shame or disappointment. The people that win these races are barely even related to me as a species when you compare us physically/mentally, so I feel nothing but admiration and very little jealously because my parents are not really not that tall either.
My fucking shoe tag didn’t record my exact time so I don’t show up on the internet results. I was, mad, at first, but then I kinda thought about it and I wasn’t doing this for internet points and it was so cold and wet I couldn’t start strava and barely was able to unlock my phone to start Fear Inoculum which I needed to start, finish this test of spirit.
I grab 2 beers from the cooler, which is a dick move but I didn’t have any beer at home and I paid for the race number, etc, let me have a extra beer. Also took a banana and took a sweet NOTC wine yeti cup that was free too.
Catholic guilt is a bitch.
I stumbled home and laid on the couch after laying in the shower like Elizabeth Shue in Leaving Las Vegas.
I’m so glad I did that race, I saved the number since this was kind of a special race since it’s the first i’ve done in forever and want to frame it and remind me that I can go from the depths of hell to…hell, just, different, rainy hell, with a banana and 2 ipa’s at the end, and the sweet yeti cup and the shirt that doesn’t fit.
Doesn’t matter, 10k at 60 minutes isn’t bad for someone who had to drink a miller light before he even got on the course and made a better time then…well, not many men in my age range but at least…blah…this post felt optimistic but whatever.