Hot Mess 15K

No, I did not get caught in the traffic.  I had a brilliant plan to avoid that.  But I did not have a plan to avoid the myriad issues created by race management. 

Let me back up just a moment and admit my responsibility.  I registered last summer for the "DC Hot Chocolate 15K" without reading the fine print that this race was actually in Prince George's County, MD.  PG County and I go way back - as in, I grew up there.  I never could run there (a topic for another blog). I thought I'd be running... um, in DC. Silly me.

I registered for this race as a sort of "consolation prize" for my inability to train the way I wanted for the Army 10-miler.  That was before I injured my foot in September and had to scratch the ATM, so this would be my only big race of the fall/winter.  Not quite a 10-miler, but close enough.

Our brilliant plan to avoid traffic involved my brother and his new (to him) houseboat.  He's docked at Belle Haven, literally across the river from National Harbor.  Two months ago, when I got the threatening email about parking at the Harbor, I asked my brother about the possibility of taking the boat across.  I bought a pass just in case, and ended up giving it to my neighbor.  So I could have predicted the mess that developed on the Wilson Bridge Saturday morning. 

Unfortunately, our brilliant plan did not anticipate that the race management would delay the start for the traffic. As we walked up the hill for the 15K and tried to make sense of the corral system (only my sister was in a "corral" the rest of us were "O" for "open") we realized the 5K hadn't started. So we froze for an hour and 15 minutes. If you know me, you know I am a "start on time, end on time" kinda gal, so a late start is inexcusable. (OK, I'll give a few minutes for unforeseen circumstances, but an hour and a quarter is ridiculous).

Once the race got underway, I tried to let the fast people go first. In fact, I sent my sister, brother-in-law and friend on out. I waited and then started running. I did okay, but was suprised by how many elbows I hit as people passed me, and I passed people. I stopped at the first set of portapotties on the highway (only 5, really????) and did my business, and thought about the hundreds of portapotties behind the fence at the finish festival. I ended up walking more of the highway than I wanted, but there were BIG dump trucks ten feet away!

20,000 people through this tunnel? Really????

As I ran down the hill back into National Harbor, I was looking forward to the last 5K. Sadly, I was in the Last Wave, and the early and mid-pack finishers were sauntering across the course to get back to their cars. Apparently that's what delayed the 5K start (besides the parking). Then I had to run up hill at the Harbor. And at mile 7.2, right on schedule my right calf began to cramp. I hadn't run more than 7 miles all fall, due to my foot injury, and so it was to be anticipated. But I wonder if I had been able to run right away after warming up, would I have cramped up? Then my left foot began "talking" to me and I decided to walk the rest of the way. Why risk another injury on this course? I finally crossed the finish line, not the greatest time (a 14:11 pace, though, and I wasn't sure I'd meet their 15-minute pace limit a month ago).

So I walked up the hill to the finish, but turned the corner and ran as fast as I could across the finish line. Then another long walk UP the hill to the fondue tent where my husband was serving chocolate to the masses.

All of this to say, personal goal: met. Family time: fabulous and enjoyable. Race experience: worst I've ever seen. Seeing how RAM Racing, an out-of-town firm, managed this race makes me thankful for groups like Potomac River Running, Pacers, and the fabulous military folks who do great races in this area! I won't be running another RAM Racing event, but I LOVED the boat ride!

BOOTED TO THE (REALLY) SLOW LANE

Just over a week ago, my nasty running habit caught up to me.  The summer wreaked havoc on my training plans for the Army 10-miler, but I was committed to making up for it in September.  I aggravated my plantar fasciitis.  My doctor put me in a walking boot for two weeks. 
And life in the boot puts you in the slow lane.  I haven't weighed this thing, but I think I have 10 extra pounds on my left leg to drag around. Fortunately I found that my Dansko clogs (almost) match the height of the boot, so I'm wearing one clog and one boot.  I am definitely in the Fashion Slow Lane this week!  With all the extra weight from the boot, and the altered gait from the boot, I am moving SLOWLY this week.

I've taken the opportunity to not exercise and I can feel the fat growing around my middle.  OK - not an opportunity, just an excuse.   Of course, extra weight also aggravates plantar fasciitis.  And extra weight slows you down.   And I miss the emotional and psychological benefits of running - I always felt better after I ran.  (Maybe that's just because the run was done!)
So as I sit in my living room looking out at a rainy Friday, I wonder, "what would I be doing if it weren't for this boot?"  I am kidding myself if I think I'd be doing more housework (the bane of my existence) or more activities.  The truth is that except for the exercise, I've kept up with most of my activities - just slower and more laboriously.  And that's why I am in the (really) slow lane this week.  It takes work.  It takes work to climb the stairs.  It takes work to walk through the grocery store or the mall. It takes work to return books to the library or even get to the phone before it stops ringing.  So the answer is ... nothing different.  I just wouldn't even think about it.

One of the blessings of the boot is just this: it forces me to slow down.  The awkwardness of the boot reminds me to rest and to heal. It brings my routine activities out of the routine and back into my consiousness.  I must think about how to do things that I used to do automatically.  And in that mindfulness, maybe there is something that needs changing. (My eating habits, for instance.)    As I look forward to the day I don't have to put the boot on, I will relish these last few days of becoming aware - once again - of my routine.