Operation: Race Weekend
11:37 AM |

I remember the downtown scene this time last year very clearly. Skinny people filled the healthy, swanky restaurants, the grocery stores seemed to be empty of anything organic and it was time wasted to look for bottled water. Booking a massage? It was impossible!
It was race weekend. I was affected by temporary frustration caused by road closures, but was otherwise removed from the whole process. Running ridiculous distances? For fun? Why? Are you being graded on it?
I have gone through bouts of motivation in my life where I have run for about 10 minutes before coughing up a lung and resolving to walk the rest of the way. That was never fun. There were also my rugby training days of throat burning, heavy-chest, heaving breathing running, which also was not fun.
I have always laughed at the packs of joggers who wear identical Running Room windbreakers as they inhaled and exhaled in unison down the city streets. Who volunteers to do that? Is this part of a parole program?
In March, I resolved to find something meaningful to do with my lunch break, as I was to have one every weekday with my full-time job until fall classes resumed. I started running on the treadmill in my building’s gym, or at least run-walking, resolving to get beyond the coughing up my lungs stage. I did! Then I wanted to see if I could run two miles (3.2k), which I did. I developed some more small goals for myself and conquered them all. So I took the plunge, with some motivation from my running roommate, and signed up for my first race ever during this year’s marathon weekend.
“Which one are you running? The half?” “No…” “Oh, the 10?” “Uh, no...” Five kilometers. “I’ll pick something easy, and if I decide to go for ten k, I’ll switch as we get closer to race day,” I thought. Well, five is challenge enough for me, who never ran before ever. (I decided my high school track days don’t count because I was a 100 meter-dash sprinter, which isn’t really running).
Last weekend, I ran 4k in 17 minutes, and it felt so easy and FUN! This week, I reached my final goal and actually found myself in what had previously sounded like a myth to me. It is called the “running zone” by most, and it is a weird, transcendental feeling where your legs keep moving and your lungs keep breathing, and you just don’t stop running. It actually is kind of calming, and liberating. It made me smile.
I went to pick up my race kit yesterday in the big tent of converging pro runners from here, from Kenya, Russia, you name it. I felt a bit sheepish being the only person in the 5k line at that particular time of day, beside the longer 10k line and the longer still half and full marathon lines. (Which means a staggering 21k and 42 k race—yikes!) My free T-Shirt says “5k!” in big green letters, which I excitedly wore to bed last night.
All the skinny people were converged under one roof. At first I was intimidated by all the pro runners converged around me. The race weekend here is pretty big, with healthy people runner events and dinners. After beating the mentality that, “They are runners and I am not,” I actually felt proud to realize that I belonged. I am a runner. I am one of those people I used to scoff at. Running IS fun.
Tomorrow is the big day. I half expect the other 5k competitors to be recovering over-eaters and seniors whose only option is to run 5k. But I am excited, I have set my time goal, and I can’t wait to finish it, knowing I gave it my all. I am actually excited to be out of breath, sweating and pink-faced after sprinting the last leg of the run.
I’ll let you know how it goes! Unless the obese people and seniors all pass me and I end up being the last pathetic wannabe runner to cross the finish line when it’s dark out. (Then I will delete this post and never speak of it again)
Luckily, mum, sister, boyfriend and best friend will be at the end to cheer me on. I’m even getting a massage after from best friend who has just finished studying massage therapy! Wish me luck, but more importantly, give it a try!