Flashback

"Picture it: Sicily, 1922." (Any Golden Girls fans in the house??)

Ok, let's not flashback that far.

Last weekend's Fruitport Old Fashioned Days 10k was a hot mess of a race for me. I failed to read the fine print on the 2013 FOFD registration and so was not aware that the event was held on an open course. As in a winding country road, open to traffic going 55 mph, 9:30am on Memorial Day weekend (read: trucks hauling boat trailers, overzealous yard salers, funeral procession). Also, there were a grand total of 46 runners in the 10k, so yeah. The drivers couldn't even tell it was a race. I felt like I had a "hit me" sign on my back and ran stiff, nervous and slow due to my fear of dying. Oh and still being out of shape. I finally finished, a personal slowest in the 10k, 2nd to last. The race finishes on the Fruitport High School track. With everyone watching, waiting for the last finisher so the awards ceremony to begin. The 5k winner had been finished for an hour!

All of this brought back memories of my origins as a runner. As in the first time I was a runner.  Now that we've got that out of the way, let's go back, kiddos. Back to the scary and wonderful place called the 90s.

In this blog I've marked myself as "starting to run" in the Spring of 2012. But in reality, I started to run nearly 20 years before (SERIOUSLY?!? 20 YEARS?) on the junior high track team. My previous sports experience was spotty: I played softball for two years in elementary school with a singular goal - wait for the walk. 8 year-olds aren't good pitchers. Oh and pray no one hit the ball to me. So 2 goals. I spent 2 years on the basketball team in 5th and 6th grade, never to score a single point. In the fall of 7th grade I inexplicably joined cheerleading. Mostly, that kept me from having to join the basketball team. So once spring rolled around I found track. All I had to do was run in a circle. Preferably fast. No coordination, no catching, no clapping. Perfect!

Oh yeah, I was a cheerleader. Fall 1992.

As with most slow, athletically challenged runners, I was pegged as a distance runner, destined to run the 1 and 2 mile races. The problem with these races is that as I got older and the skill differential became more pronounced between "athletes," I found myself frequently in danger of getting lapped by the fast girls. Ugh. The horror. My primary goal as a high school track runner was to not be last and not get lapped in the 2 mile (8 laps).

10th Grade track, Spring 1996. Note the sweet digital watch and WWJD bracelet. 

This isn't a sad story of what a bad runner I was in junior high and high school. I actually found a groove - and it came in the form of Cross Country. Our high school hadn't had a XC team in 10 years, but the track coach felt we had a talented distance women's track team and should start a XC team again. It started in the fall of my sophomore year with about 7 girls and a new coach (our track coach was a teacher and XC coach at another high school), uniforms and snacks subsidized by a sponsor and cheering section provided by our mothers. Cross country is a beautiful sport for a slow distance runner, especially compared to track. We ran in the woods, on golf courses, in state parks, around schools and colleges, and in all weather and all terrain. Just an example - in those days Muskegon High School ran their course at Snug Harbor. Running up (what seemed like) vertical hills, down sand dunes, over tree roots, tripping and falling over said tree roots... it was all an adventure.

Junior year Cross Country, Fall 1996

With a small team, I was able to earn a varsity letter, actually SCORE in meets (unlike my basketball and track experiences) and experience success. I ran 5ks in the summer, and considered myself a "real runner." It inspired my love of running and exercising outdoors. And you don't get lapped.

Fruitport Old Fashioned Days 2013

Run like a slow animal is chasing you!

Yesterday was the 36th annual River Bank Run! It was also my first 25k race. Or... not. As my loyal 10 (being generous, more like 5) readers know, my spring training has been plagued by inclement weather, life stress and general low motivation. I struggled through the last weeks with the thought of running 15.5 miles on May 11. Sure, I had completed a half marathon in April, but I swore I would not run another race so unprepared in the future. So in the end, I took the easy/hard way out. As a ridiculously stubborn person who is hell-bent on pushing my limits, it took a lot to pull back - and it was the best thing! Instead of dreading yesterday and fretting about it all week, I approached the 10k race knowing with confidence I could finish it, would be able to walk straight today, and would not mess up my approaching marathon training.

The joy and sense of accomplishment that runners get is the #1 reason to do it. Not the t-shirts. Not the medals. Not the ability to eat and drink 1,500 calories guilt free. The 25k was hanging over me, weighing heavy on my mind and on my legs. So I decided to trade the sense of accomplishment of running my longest distance with bringing back the joy. Bring in 'da noise, bring in 'da funk, bring in 'da joy, so to speak. Dreading the race was keeping me from properly preparing. The thought that at 12.something min/miles the 25k would take 3+ hours was horrifying. Like that little girl from "The Ring" crawling out of your TV. "Psycho" shower scene. Severus Snape being a good guy. Yeah, that bad.

I went to the Race Changes booth and they just crossed off the "25" and replaced it with "10" on my bib and ensured that I'd be entered into the computer to change my race distance. I was able to trade in my 25k tech t-shirt for the LAST WOMEN'S MEDIUM 10k shirt. This is very important, as I told the woman that if I got and wore the 25k shirt, it would jinx me and I'd never finish a 25k. She looked at me like I was insane, but did not slap me (as I would have been tempted to do, if a woman was shrilly freaking out about a damn t-shirt). That was that. I'd run the 10k, just 6.2 miles confidently and hopefully smiling.

In short, the pre-race was great, seeing my Aunt Jean, Aunt Beth and cousin Justin who were running the 5k. We found Uncle Gary and my cousins Ross and Lauren who were competing in the 10k as well. I was so cheerful in the morning and on the ride there that Mike and Kari were genuinely concerned that it was a sign of the end of days. Luckily, by the time we reached our destination, I was back to my cranky morning self and was swearing in a church parking lot. The world made sense again.

The race was a little chilly with the wind on the river, but I race confidently, but not quickly. I was afraid to push it in the first half, not sure how I'd do in the last 3 miles. I'm glad I didn't go out too fast, as I've not done any speed work this season and would've had a tough time. I did, for once, have enough to kick during the half mile and smile for the finish line cameras, so I was happy with the finish. My only criticism of the finish line area is that they didn't have pretzels. I always want pretzels. If you organize a race, have pretzels. PLEASE.

The absolute best thing that came out of this race will be 12 months from now. With all the Helsen family members already at the race, we got an idea. An awful idea. A wonderful *awful* idea. Oh wait. That's the Grinch. This was just a wonderful idea. Next year, we'll round up as many of our 60+ members to enter the River Bank Run 5k for Mother's Day. Call it the Mother's Day 5k. Call it Forced Family Fun. Whatever you want. Whether you're a kid, a grandkid, married into the family, or just hang around the family of Ike and Dorothy Helsen, be at the River Bank Run next year. We'll have t-shirts. At least 15 people are already in. We've got some babysitters committed.  And we will run, walk and jog the 5k as a FAMILY. Kick ass, y'all.

That's it. I ran 6.2+ miles yesterday. Probably walked over 3, given how far away we parked. And it was great. And about 1/2 a mile from the finish, somebody had a sign that said Run like a slow animal is chasing you. I pointed at her, yelled, "HEY! That's ME! I'm that person!" and kicked it into gear. Pretty good little Saturday, if I do say so myself.

10k Results - Would have been a PR, had nature not called while I was at the John Ball Zoo water station.

Cousins! Check out Ross' sexy legs!