THE GOAL
After completing "Couch to 5K" and completing my first goal of running an entire 5K race, I was ready for my next goal. It seemed only natural to pick the 10K distance as my next goal. So, I chose the "Goblin Gallop" a local race that benefitted a medical clinic for needy families.
THE NIGHTMARE
I continued with my training and all was going well until a few days before the race when I saw this horrible photo on the internet. This lead to googling and discovering many blogs and articles about getting runner's trots. And I even had some bad dreams about this happening to me!
A few days before the race I went and drove the course. It was through a neighborhood so there were no bathrooms at all unless a kind resident decided to take pity on you and welcome you into their home to do your business. I became consumed with worry. This would be my longest run to date and I was so worried about having to go to the bathroom... and also worried about being LAST.
A friend and I decided that we wanted to wear costumes but didn't want anything elaborate because I was already too worried about the race itself. It's pretty ironic that I was consumed with nightmares of pooping my pants and our "costumes" consisted of Depends undergarments and a sharpie marker proudly proclaiming that "We've got the runs!"
THE RACE
The morning of the race finally arrived and it was cold and rainy. A few minutes before the race started we decided to ditch our diapers in case they swelled up in the rain. We lined up with the crowd and I prayed that they 14 times I had used the bathroom since I woke up that morning would do the trick.
The first two miles were with a large crowd because many were running a 5K course. When the 5K crowd headed back towards the finish line, things thinned out significantly. Our course had us running all the way to the front of the neighborhood, then turning back to run all the way back. Soon I had other runners on their way back on the other side of the street. I admired their costumes and running form. None of them had pooped their pants.
LAST
My side of the road got more and more lonely and the runners grew further apart. I started to fixate on my other worry... was I last? Was there anyone behind me? From time to time I would look back to try to hopefully catch a glimpse of all those runners who were so much slower than me. But, I never saw anyone.
So, I started to rationalize and tried to talk myself into not being crushed with disappointment. It's ok to be last. I might be last, but I'm not on the couch. Who cares if I'm last? I've lost 40 pounds and many pant sizes. No one can judge me or put me down for being slow... look at how far I've come!
Soon, coming in last was not the worst thing in the world. I was beginning to embrace the idea of being last.
Finally, I reached the turn around point and started heading back towards the back of the neighborhood and the finish line. Each time a shuttle bus would pass filled with people who had already finished their race I would repeat my mantra, "Being last is not the worst thing that could happen to me. Finishing this race is a victory even if I am last!" And that's when it happened. In the distance on the opposite side of the road a small figure appeared... running towards me... still heading to the turn around point... it took a minute for it to sink in... I was not last! I was filled with such exuberance and a joy that can not be explained with words. I WAS NOT LAST!!!! I strained my eyes to see who else would be heading towards me. But no other figures were coming my way. I was not last. I was next to last.
As the lone figure grew closer, I recognized that this person was clearly a senior citizen. The only reason I was not last was that I was beating a grandma.
I remember coming around the final curve towards the finish line. A large crowd was waiting on the shuttle bus to take them to their cars. They looked my way with confusion on their faces- people are still running?!? I ran past them. All the food and festivities were in another area, so no one was at the finish line. But that's ok. Because I was. I crossed the finish line. I didn't have diarrhea. I wasn't last. And that was a victory to me.
AFTERWARDS
I went to enjoy my free banana and water and other goodies they were giving away. I clapped and cheered for my friends who won age group awards. And I cheered for the grandma who came in last place... she was first in her age group and beaming with pride. I guess being last isn't so bad after all.
One step at a time!
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