It's Just Abbey

So I had my first 5K of the year this morning! It was the Sting 5K in Sidney Ohio.

This race holds a special place in my heart because it was the first 5K I ever ran. Ever. I finished at 28:09 last year and spent the summer trying to beat it. The race was through Tawawa Park I hold is one of my favorite races so far. Racing it twice, I can say it for certain. It is my favorite race.

I ventured on this one alone so I loaded up my care with fruits and other light snacky, runners foods and was on the road. I also packed a Dark Chocolate Starbucks Frappachino for some caffeine before the run. I knew I would need it. I would drink it at 8am, an hour before the race. That was the plan.

So… 8:30 rolls around and I was rigging my chip to my shoe when I realized I hadn’t drunk my frappachino of happiness. I cracked it open and in about three gulps, it was gone. I can’t tell you why I chugged it but I did. I licked my lips, looked at the empty bottle and said, “Whelp, that was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” And I made my way to the start line praying my stomach wanted to be nice today.

I had a brief discussion in line for the only port-a-potty about marathons and held my own and gave advice. Unlike last year I just stood there, looked at the ground and pretended to be invisible. These are my people now! They have accepted me into the runner’s clan! Warm and fuzzies all over guys. All over.

I’m not gonna lie to you, I wasn’t feeling hopeful about my timing prospects. I haven’t been training for speed so coming close to last year’s time wasn’t even in my head, let alone beating my personal record of 27:18. I just wanted to get less than 30 minutes. That’s it. This was a run for nostalgia and to see where my training had put me. I stretched, scoped out the other runners. Before I knew it the air horn sounded and we were off!

Nice and slow. That was the plan. Don’t kill yourself. That was also the plan.

Air horn sounded. New plan. FAST. RUN FAST! TRY TO DIE YOU RUN SO FAST.

I was cookin’ along for the first mile. I didn’t dare look at my Garmin. If I knew how fast I was really going I would freak myself out and throw the whole damn thing. The first place runner zoomed by fast (his final time was ~15:40. I wasn’t catching him. No way, no how) and the woman next to me made a comment about it. From that we chatted for the better part of a half mile about running and where we were. I knew I was okay because even though I felt like I was running like a spooked horse I could still talk. Excellent. Everything was going to be alright. Anyway, she was clearly faster than I was so at one point I just faded back trying not to embarrass myself by throwing the brakes mid sentence or something ridiculous.

Yeah, I can be running an 8:40 mile and still worry about social graces. You only wish you were this crazy.

I ran by the mile two water stand because, yeah, I am a bad ass like that. Plus I was worried anything compounded onto that frappachino would just be the final nail in the coffin leading to a puking mess near the children’s play area. That would just be unpleasant for everyone involved. Mostly the innocent children. And my shoes. New race goal: Abbey, if you puke. Don’t puke on your shoes. Check.

My legs started to get mad around the 2.5 mile area. My calves always complain so I just let them ride but my quads started to fatigue. That was new. I looked at my Garmin and realized I was dangerously close to beating not only last year’s time by my PR too. Uh, hey Abbey’s legs. Shut up. Run faster.

So I started to book it around the final bend. The finish line was in sight and I had never been happier to see a giant clock. That clock meant free bananas and water. GO LEGS GO!

I zoomed by the finish line and damn near collapsed. I was completely out of gas. I was running on fumes. I put my whole heart into that 5K without intending to. There is nothing worse than finishing a race and feeling like you could do a few more miles. I looked cautiously at my Garmin.

27:14.

Hells yeah 4 seconds off my PR! Boom. If I had a football I would have spiked it in a touchdown looking area. I felt like I was going to keel over at any moment but I just wanted to poke everyone who passed me and say, “Yeah, new PR. No big deal.” But that would be lame. So I tweeted the hell out of it.

I hung out for awards and guess what? Bam! Second place in my age group. And before anyone asks, there were more than 2 people in my group. I have a new silver medal to add to my collection of third place medals from last year. Move over bronze! Silver is in town! I am so excited! But what is that strange feeling in the pit of my competitive belly? Crap. Now I want a gold. It’s gonna be a long summer.

As I drove home, wearing my medal, I was hoping I got pulled over speeding. Mostly because I was really hoping it would play out this way:

Officer: Ma’am. Do you know why I pulled you over?
Me: Because I am so freaking fast! See this medal? Yeah. I have the need for speed!

Then I would Val Kilmer teeth chomp at him and tell him I was dangerous! I’m sure nothing could possibly go wrong with that plan. Nothing at all.

Side note: There was no BFFriday for two reasons. One: I was helping my dad move bees to beehive yesterday and no matter what anyone tells you, it is hard to blog while covered in bees. Two: The next BFFriday is slated to be Hoppie and God help me I can’t make it sound like ANYTHING worth reading. It just gets all gooey and gross and much like this:

In the desolate hole that was my bleak spirit, a light emerged to carry me from the darkness and help me mend the pieces of my broken heart.

No one wants to read that. I don’t want to read that. I’ll try again next week to make it sound less dramatic and intense. I make no promises. Have a great weekend guys!