First Time

There is NOTHING like running your first marathon. When you line up, have your number tacked on you, with crazy socks on your hands to throw to the ground after mile 3 or so when things start to heat up. Jumping up and down like a fool to keep your muscles "warm" for the race. Someone should have told me it is not like those cross country races where you warm up for a 3 mile "sprint." This is a place where warming up, for me at least, happens along the way.

I remember my first time like it was yesterday. All the anticipation. The fear. Will I even be able to finish? Could the training possibly have been enough? Did Contompasis and I cheat by doing that 11 mile run on the treadmills at JO South when we couldn't bear running outdoors due to the inclement C-bus weather?

Who knows. All that can be done is to get to the start line.

Turns out, this is the race that I was born to do. I happen to be decent at the 5k. But put me in a 10k and you will think that is where I was meant to run. Place me at the starting line of a 42k and it is my natural environment.

Back in my cross country days, once the gun went off, all the girls would sprint out at a mad pace. Parents would cheer, coaches shout instructions, and get ready for the next spot to see the pack race around. My parents would wait. Without fail, I would be the last girl "jogging" along. But little did the other bystanders know, their girls were going to die down in no time and I would slowly pick them off, one by one. My coach would give me exact times to hit. I would hit them exactly. It is pretty easy to do when you are programmed at one pace. Slow and steady.

I digress, back to that first time. I made it. I finished. I did not get the time I had really hoped for, but the time was good. Good enough for me to keep training and doing this 5 more times.

Good luck to all the first timers. You will either love it or hate it. Either way, welcome to the club!