Renovating Kaeti

Upon waking up at 5:30 a.m. Saturday morning, I decided that running an early morning race on my birthday was not a brilliant idea.

I felt better about it once I’d had some breakfast.

My roomie and I drove to St. Paul, and as we were walking toward Harriet Island we heard a huge crash and boom. And then another boom.

“Was that thunder?” I asked, starting to panic that the race would be interrupted by monsoons and lightning storms.

“Maybe it was a bomb,” suggested my roommate.

Turns out it was a bomb. Well, not really. It was a demolition. They blew up the High Bridge smokestack in downtown St. Paul Saturday morning. So we had some nice dusty cloud cover for the run.

Anyhoodle, the race went pretty well. I got a side stitch after mile two that dramatically slowed my pace during the last mile. My chip time was 27:03. (I guess I’ll have to work on shaving my 5K another day.)

I was happy with my time, especially considering the volume of training I’ve been doing. But when I crossed the finish line, for some reason I was overwhelmed with feelings of bitter disappointment. And I was mad. Like “ready to hurt people hogging all the post-race ‘nanners” kind of mad.

Has this happened to anyone else?  Usually when I finish I’m relieved (and might feel like throwing up a bit). This time I was downright cranky.

I sat down and ate my post-race snacks, and eventually felt better about the world. Maybe it was just a biochemical thing.

My roomie got a PR (woo!!) and we had a celebratory pancake breakfast. Overall, a very successful race.  Thanks for the birthday love, ya’ll!

On Saturday morning, I got up early after a fitful night of sleep so I would have time to eat and relax a bit before going over to the race. Even in the 6 o’clock hour I was ready to put my game face on.

When we got to the race, they were running a little behind schedule (maybe the race officials were celebrating St. Patty’s early), so we stood around freezing our bums off for 45 minutes before we started. Finally, we lined up for the start and I positioned myself somewhere near the front-middle of the pack.

The course was so icy that the entire mass of runners slid down the first hill we encountered. The route was incredibly slick, so my race-day mantra ended up being “don’t fall, don’t fall, there’s less ice over there, don’t fall.” But the condition did have its advantages. For example, it was kind of hilarious to watch the elitist-elite types pass me and then start skidding around on the ice. That’s what you get for running fast.

But all kidding aside, I was very impressed by both the 10-mile group and 5Kers. Especially the 10-mile runners who finished before I finished the 5K — way to make me look bad, guys. Thanks.¹

(Click to enlarge.)

So after running around the lake on a sheet of ice trying to pass as a road, I finally made it up the hill to the finish line.

Notice the stylish green gloves. I was getting into the spirit of things. So much so that my holiday cheer propelled me across the finish line with a 26:?? time! They haven’t posted the official times, but my watch put me at 26:38. We weren’t chip timed, so this is my best guess (I’ll have to wait and see if they post the 5K results online). I’m just so excited to have finished my first race — the 26 on my watch is just icing on the cake. And speaking of food . . .

Mmm . . . the post-race breakfast was definitely a highlight. And that was the day in a nutshell. Thank you everyone for your support and encouragement — I couldn’t have done it without y’all!