Two weeks ago Bailey and I participated in our first 5K.
As expected, we crossed the finish line somewhere close to the end, but our goal was to jog the entire thing, regardless of how slow that jog was.
I am proud to report that we did just that.
We came in with an embarrassing chip time of 45:42 for a 14:44-minute mile.
I may have been able to shave off a minute or two had Bailey not stopped to do her business three times, but when you gotta go, you gotta go. Also, unlike some people who were running with their dogs, I actually stopped to pick it up.
Shame on you, dog owners.
While I was familiar with the race-location, I had never traversed it on foot, only by car. I knew there were some fairly steep hills, which of course, were awesome.
Half the race, as it turned out, was up hill.
My neighborhood has its hills, but I’ve been purposely avoiding some of the more challenging ones. At this point, I avoid one because it’s in a dark part of my neighborhood. The other, I just avoid.
Maybe some more time on those hills would have helped me out.
The weather was beautiful that day. It was sunny, in the low 70s and a bit breezy.
But man, was it hot. The North Carolina sun is strong and 70 felt like 80. I’m used to jogging in the dark and getting home before the sun has even started waking up. I don’t think I ever wanted it to be 5:45am so badly.
One of my friends jogged alongside me even though she could have just as easily walked. We chatted quite a bit, which is something I’m also not used to. It was great to have her there to keep my mind off of how much I hated that damn race at that moment.
Another friend finished the race well before I did, but came back to finish it with me.
It made my heart so happy to have them both there. I don’t think I would have been able to keep jogging without their motivation and their support. I wanted to stop so badly so many times, but thanks to them, I kept going.
Too Focused on Numbers
I was hung up on my race numbers for a good week. I couldn’t stop focusing on them as though they were some sort of representation of how hard I’ve been working. I focused on those numbers like I focus on the numbers on the scale. I keep hoping for both to go down.
Sometimes I think I focus on the numbers because I can’t seem to wrap my head around what I have actually accomplished. Less than year ago I couldn’t jog a complete mile and here I was doing three. I couldn’t jog a mile as a skinny kid in high school, but here I am, doing three while 40-ish pounds overwheight.
And maybe that’s why I can’t give myself credit I deserve. Despite all of the jogging, I’m still 40 pounds overweight. The goal weight still seems so far away and unattainable, it’s hard to focus on the weight I’ve lost and what I’ve been doing to get here.
Although my goal weight seems unattainable, I do feel like I have the ability to jog longer distances. I feel like if I wanted to, I could train to run a 10K or a 15K. Those numbers don’t seem so scary any more. They seem real.
Will I do it? Probably not. I’m not convinced jogging that far with a dog on a regular basis will be good for Bailey’s joints in the long run. I don’t want to cross over from making her stronger, to making her weaker.
And quite frankly, I hate jogging. Well…maybe hate isn’t the right word, but I don’t really enjoy it either. I find it boring. Because my neighborhood lacks sidewalks, I need to stay alert for cars. This means I can’t listen to music. Six miles without music? Ugh. No way.
A blogger friend of mine who is also a runner asked me if I was addicted yet. I told her no, but then I went on to sign up for two more 5Ks.
This weekend Bailey and I will be participating in a race to benefit animal shelters around North Carolina.
The second race I signed up for is on Thanksgiving. I’m not entirely sure if Bailey would be allowed to run with me, but I don’t intend on doing it with her. As much as I love having my workout buddy beside me, I kind of want to try this one on my own.
Just me, a rockin’ playlist, and no bags filled with poop.