On Saturday morning, we ran the 5K. There were six of us in our group. While I had fun with the girls, I did not enjoy the run.
Call me a wimp, or whatever you'd like, but I don't like extremes. Extreme cold? Blech. Extreme heat and humidity? I'll stay as close to the air conditioning as possible. I prefer the 60-80 degree days with no humidity. (Which are few are far between in Maryland.)
Saturday morning is was cold. I mean cold. I can now say, from experience, that 28 degrees is too cold to run. It's best to just stay at home in your warm toasty bed.
Okay, I thought. It's cold, but it's not that cold. (I was in complete and utter denial.) And then the race began. While there was a paved path along the route, most of the run was "cross country." Or, in other words: grass. Like in high school. Except, this wasn't the maintained, groomed fields of the school system. It was the uneven, "potholes," stuff-in-the-way kind of run. Like, ducking under a tree branch, jumping over branches and rocks, and swerving around dips in the ground. I did not particularly enjoy this. Every step of the way I wanted to quit. But I'm not a quitter, so I carried on.
I was never so happy to see the finish line. Especially with Joe and all of my children waiting there for me.
It was an experience I'll never forget. I ran it in 33:08. I'm hoping my next 5K (May 2nd) will be better. I have been contemplating a lot since Saturday morning. Maybe I'm not cut out to be a runner. Or maybe not a "racer." Or maybe I should just stick to running on the pavement or treadmill. I don't know the answer to that just yet. My friend wants to run it again next year. I think it will take a year for me to think long and hard about that one.