More accurately, I ran in the Carlsbad 5000, the race they call the World's Fastest 5K. They call it that for good reason, the world record has been broken there 16 times.
We ran this as prep-race for Team In Training. There's so much to learn about Running In A Race, e.g., where you want to wear your race number so it doesn't annoy you, how to line up at the start, how to protect your pace in the mob of runners. You don't want to learn those lessons during your first marathon. Running the prep event is essential for people who've never raced.
As of Tuesday, I wasn't going to do it. I called Steve from a business trip and said no way. I'm not a sprinter; my pace is more like waiting for the earth to rotate beneath me. Really, I'm that slow these days. The fastest 250 finishers get a medal, but the rest of us get to walk around medal-deficient announcing to all our lack of speed. I didn't want to run dead last in a sprint and feel bad about myself. I had decided to go to the race to cheer on my teammates and mentees, but skip the race myself.
A big driver of this pouty response is my overall stress level - I've been traveling a bit for work, Steve's been sick, our jobs are extra-intense lately, and the house is a mess. I regularly find myself at the very end of my tether. And that is no place to be.
On Saturday, I smartened up about the Carlsbad 5000. Who cares if I'm slow? I've always been slow and it never stopped me. I was being a big, whiny baby. Run - not because you're fast, but because you love to run. The race was actually pretty fun. I ran with a nice group and I wasn't nearly last.
Bonus surprise - all TNT finishers did get a medal. It absolutely rocked to see my teammates get their medals.
Not a surprise, but a bonus - my friend Raul and a bunch of TNT teammates picked up a top 250 medal.
Run on my speed demon buddies; I'll be right behind you.