It was an odd little event. There was a half marathon that was supposed to start at 8:00 that didn’t set off until closer to 8:15. Then there was a 12 mile bike race scheduled for 9:05, the 5k run at 9:10 and a 5k walk at 9:15.
I was chilly despite doing some easy warm up jogging, so I went to stand in the sun. There was an older lady there doing the same. Come 9:15 and the bikes hadn’t yet left.
“They’re always running behind,” the woman told me.
I noticed that the runners were bunched up near the bikes. I commented that they looked like they were prepping to take off, the bikes in one direction, the runners the other.
“The bikes will go first,” the woman said. I responded that I thought that was how they said it’d go.
We were wrong. Suddenly the bikes, runners and walkers all took off.
Crap, I thought, quickly taking off to close the space between me and the start line. Well, this is one way to be sure I don’t take the outcome of this race too seriously.
I didn’t try to make up the time of probably about 10 seconds. It didn’t take long for me to pass a few people. It’s probably better I started out with a deficit because I might’ve tried to keep up with the faster runners.
My foot felt fine for the first half. This was a pretty hilly course, with a good-sized climb starting in the first half mile. The second half my foot started paining me. Nowhere near as badly as when I hurt it a week and a half ago, but it didn’t feel great. I think the harder part was that my right leg felt really heavy. The last hill going back didn’t do any favors for either my foot or my tired leg. I did speed up at the finish, but not like I’d have liked.
Still, it was my second best 5k race time despite being about 2.5 minutes slower than my personal best.
I was noticeably limping after and my foot did not feel good. I might’ve sweared a bit.
The race served some terrific tasting cantaloupe and, being Vermont, they had crackers and cheese too. I thought about staying for the corn on the cob they were preparing, but my husband was back at the B&B and I knew he’d want to get home. I don’t think they were giving out age group awards as the race probably had less than 40 people, many of whom seemed to be serious runners. It reminded me of the race in Ireland in that regard.
We’re headed home now, an ice pack on my war wound. I see my chiropractor tomorrow. I think staying off the foot as much as possible in the next week is my best strategy.
I’m overall happy with my performance, but I wish my foot felt better. I purposely didn’t really “race,” but rather tested out trying my half marathon pace. If you consider the fact that I started about 10 seconds behind the gun, I just barely made the upper end of my half goal pace.
After the half marathon, I think I’ll ask for an MRI so we can know for sure what I’m dealing with and progress with a plan for how to strengthen it from there.
Plans are good, even if they mean modifying your goals to give yourself time to heal.