Saturday, November 12, 2011

A Race Report of Ridiculousness

Before the races.  Bean is wearing a skirt, Baby Legs, gloves, and a superhero mask.  And this is only the beginning of the ridiculousness!


Today I ran my first official race in over four years!  And Bean showed up to run his first race - a 1-mile Fun Run that his preschool class has been training for. 

He has been all psyched about this race - he apparently can run the whole way around their .2-mile track and he has been winning that length race at school.  The Beast and I have both been emphasizing that winning isn't the point - that I never win my races, and I don't run just to race; running, pushing yourself, and meeting your goals is the fun part.

The Beast and I were both a little concerned that Bean was going to be very upset if/when he didn't win (we expected plenty of older kids - we did not expect he would win.  We didn't even expect he would run nearly the whole thing.).  He likes to race in some of our daily activities and we have all-out meltdowns when he doesn't win (incidentally, I am demonstrating graceful winning and losing behavior, but he still just screams.  In fact, he tells me to yell and be angry when I lose!  He wants to rub it in!).

When Bean woke up yesterday morning, he said he was sick.  When we mentioned the run was the next day, he said he couldn't do it.  With a little more discussion, he agreed he would show up, and he would walk or run or maybe even be carried by his dad - but he would show up nonetheless.  In the evening, Bean and I went to pick up our t-shirts and numbers.  He seemed excited, and I was feeling a little more relaxed about it since he now did not expect to win and wasn't repeatedly saying "I'm gonna be the fastest!"


I was also highly amused that he decided he was going to pick up our race stuff wearing a skirt (part of his Halloween costume, which I still need to post about!), Baby Legs, and a Zorro-style superhero mask.  And he carried a sword made of pieces of musical instruments.  Hilarious.

This morning, we arrived just before my 5K's 8AM start time, running late after having to adjust the location of Bean's number so he wouldn't rip it off, deal with a meltdown when A-Train won the carseat race (because Bean was still fighting over what order his gloves and jacket would be put on.  Oy.), etc etc etc.

But I got there.  And I lined up.  And I kept thinking to myself "I'm never going to be able to make my 27-minute goal.  What was I thinking?  Shaving a minute off a 5K time in just 6 weeks?  Can't do it."

I smoked it.

According to my Garmin (it was not a chipped race, and I am not even sure if there was an official timer), I came in right around 24:21!!!!

My first mile (according to both my Garmin and the timer standing off to the side) was 7:38!!  I have not run a mile that fast since high school.

I. am. pumped.
  I could not settle into a slower pace because I was trying to keep up with, literally, 8-year-olds and my automatic response to a little kid in front of me seemed to be trash-talking in my head.  "I have two little kids!  I'm 13 months postpartum!  You think you're all fast and young and awesome!  OLD LADY MOTHER-OF-TWO COMING THROUGH."  And when they passed me?  "Oh uh-uh.  No way.  My legs are longer.  I know this route and there's a long hill coming up.  And I like uphills."  (Yes, I really do.  Weird habit from high school cross country - I run faster on the uphills.  The Beast thinks it's funny because it's not on purpose.)

So that's the boring part of my race report.

The exciting and truly ridiculous?  (Although, hello!  I beat my goal time by a ridiculous almost three minutes!!!!) Anyway.  Enough about me and my trash-talking competitiveness against 8-year-olds (hm.  Where is Bean getting his competitiveness from...?)


So Bean decided to wear his skirt, Baby Legs, and mask again for the race.  Already awesomely ridiculous.  Bean and The Beast lined up for the 1-mile kids' race (I was going to stay behind with A-Train) and off went the older kids, kindergarten and up.  Bean was running around and The Beast was just kind of standing there looking bemused.  I nursed A-Train and relaxed for a few minutes.

As they lined up the preschoolers, I could not see Bean or The Beast anywhere.  The preschoolers took off, and I took a picture of the small crowd wondering if I was just missing them...at least I'd have a picture of the start...even if I didn't see them at the time.

I called The Beast's cell phone.  No answer.

A minute or so later, a text message.  Bean had to poop!  ::sigh::

So a few minutes later they've returned, and we tell Bean he can just go take off and finish the race anyway.  The Beast takes him down the hill to the big balloon arch at the start/finish line and...

He tripped and fell.  Practically under the starting line of balloons.
 The Beast helped him up...
and held his hand as he limped a little ways.
And then Bean said he couldn't walk.  In fact, he insisted The Beast had to carry him to the car.













So today I PRed in a 5K.  Bean dressed up in costume, missed the start of his race, and then fell at the starting line and declared himself done - and PRed in ridiculousness.

P.S. In case you are not a geeky runner or other athlete, "PR" stands for "personal record."  Not public relations.  Though Bean was certainly doing that at super-hero caliber as well!
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