So, yesterday I ran my second ever 5k.
My first ever in 18 degrees.
For this race, I threw fashion out the window. It’s hard to see your cute leggings and matching compression top when you’re wearing two pairs of pants, two long sleeve shirts, a hoodie, and the race shirt over that. Add a grey ear warmer, my standby blue Nike hat and a balaclava to the mix, and I’m that kid from A Christmas Story.
Or I’m a bank robber dressed in a tutu and listening to a 3OH!3 Pandora station.
The race itself was less agonizing than one would think running 3.1 miles in 18 degree weather would be. I got warm fast, and the balaclava became somewhat unnecessary. The tutu, of course, was very necessary. The first two miles were a breeze. And then…my right foot felt funny…oh wait, it’s now numb. Party foul, foot. The extra pair of socks I wore managed to both keep me warm and cut off my circulation really well.
Despite my right foot bowing out of the race, I still finished within 20 seconds of my 36 minute goal. I was nearly four minutes faster than the 5k I ran 2 months ago.
A small but meaningful victory.
(Yes, the picture says 36.25. My time is based on the chip times of the people around me, because mine fell off during the race, effectively making me a big sad DNF. It took me at least 6 or 7 seconds to cross the start line. Trust me.)