O.K., MAYBE that is a slight exaggeration.
- I am a woman and he is a man.
- He has prolly no body fat and I have… do.
BUT, for a brief moment (approximately 10-20 seconds) I was Just. Like. Lance. Armstrong. You see, it is rumored he races at 95% of his maximum heart-rate. And for 10-20 seconds, I raced at 95% of mine! BFF, Lance!
On Saturday my sister and I ran in a local 4 mile race. Picture. Picture. We were so race-ready, on the heels of disco-ing away Friday night at a local casino. We danced from 9 to 1:30 – and only took breaks when the band did. And might I mention it is imperative that one maintains adequate hydration when one is disco-ing like a fool the night before a race.. and only gets 5.5 hours of sleep.
OK, that is another area Lance and I are NOT alike, he probably would have rested. I, on the other hand have not been able to figure out how to balance my passions – dancing, blogging, training/racing… He probably has no fun – Does he blog? Does he dance? I’m sorry. That was my horrible, jealous self slamming a superior being for making better choices and being physically superior. Bad me. Go Lance and go good choices!
Back to me.
My “dream finish time” was 32 minutes. That’d give me an 8 minute mile average. Real runners – feel free to laugh and snicker and point. You may make fun of me on your blogs, but be sure to link! I will never run a 6 minute mile. Ne-vah!
My “big hope finish time” was 35 minutes.
My REAL finish time was 33:22! That works out to an 8 minute 20 second per mile pace. I’m all over that. I did track my actual splits though:
- First mile: 8:14
- Second: 9:08 (monster hill – gah!)
- Third: 8:23
- Fourth: 7:37 – that’s right! Under 8 minutes – can you feel the heat?
While standing on the podium accepting my Speedy Speederson award I I’d like to thank the lady in the orange shirt for giving me reason to push beyond reasonable limits and reach 95% of my heart rate maximum (JUST. LIKE. LANCE ARMSTRONG!) for I don’t know how long, but it was long enough that I felt my throat starting to… to… close up.
“Orange Shirt” (will refer to as OS the rest of this post) and I kept playing a little game of “I’m ahead, no you’re ahead”… until the hill. Then she was ahead and I let her be because I knew if I didn’t manage the hill well, then – Bad Jenny *shakes finger*. The hill was early in mile 2. Somewhere in mile 3 I spied OS again. HAd I not been so serious onto-her orange shirt-ness, I’d have done a little jig. Instead I chanted, “Bring it in, run tight… stop flopping your head Jenny! Keep it tight, girl!” I passed OS somewhere in mile 3, and then early in mile 4 she passed me.
Drats. I panted in my head, “I’m too tired for this crap!”
I then began to visualize my running partner, Katie. She is always a stride or two ahead. I kept looking towards my Imaginary Katie and pushing a little more to keep up with her. I rounded a corner with my Imaginary Katie and saw OS. Oh yes – O.S.
Then Kanye West’s song “Stronger” started playing in my head,
That, that, that, that don’t kill me…. will only make me stronger…
My head told me, “Girl, you ain’t even close to killed. Turn it up sister. Turn it up!” So I accepted my own selfs’ call-out and turned it up. The gap began to close between me and OS.
That, that, that, that don’t kill me…. will only make me stronger…
Aughr-ight. Game. On. My head is still saying, “You got more. You are NOT DEAD.” I’m not kidding. So I pushed more.
We rounded the corner with, say, a quarter mile to go. Now, I am NOT a sprinter, nor am I big on a hard final push. I need Katie, but I didn’t have Katie. But I did have: Kanye, OS and Imaginary Katie. I passed OS with a few hundred yards to go. I never looked back, but I could feel the space between us growing (note: me in front, her not in front). However, being the paranoid person that I am, I thot:
OK. I turned it on All. The. Way. What if she hasn’t yet and she’s gaining and I can’t see that she’s gaining and… I can push it a little… A photo-finish is not acceptable… I can pu… Oh no. What’s that noise? That’s ME! That’s my breath! Oh my heck! Is my throat closing up? Crud. Maybe I’ll keep pushing, but not push harder afterall…
I looked at my heart rate monitor and my heart rate was at 199… and my “limit” is 189. Ooopsie. No wonder. My self said to me, “Dude! You are totally lIke Lance Armstrong!”
I crossed the finish and was so a-dither with regaining an fully-open air space I never saw when OS came through. But, OS, if you ever read this – thank you. There’s nothing like a good competitor for a good race. I usually refer to these things as “events” not “races”, but I feel that on Saturday… I raced.
My place? 172. Out of ??? I don’t care. I can breathe!
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You are a superstar! Awesome race and fantastic telling…felt I was right there with you (closed throat and all). See, you looked like just a nice normal fit woman there at BlogHer but you’re really super athlete! Dancing and running in a 12 hour window – Lance wouldn’t dare even try.
Hey just about the same, I always thought so anyway. I agree with Kathleen, Lance wouldn’t attempt what you do.
Holy crap! I’m tired from just reading that! You. Totally. Rock.
I guess you are like Lance in the same way I am like Chuck Norris, eh? ;-)
Just call me Walker.
YAY!!! You are so awesome. I am proud to be your friend, girl. And I’m totally giggling about Bubba’s Sis. I’m going to have to email her now, calling her “walker.”
This post actually exhausted me. Congratulations!! I am by no means a distance runner, not even when I was in my athletic prime. I’ve always been a sprinter, so I am super impressed! I’m so stoked you got so close to your dream goal! I hope OS miraculously falls upon this blog entry and feels the burn.
You. Are. HARD CORE!!!
Even if I ever attain my much missed fitness level from my brief boot camp days, I will never be a runner. Humungo flat duck feet like mine are not meant for pounding the pavement. I shall run only if chased by a pack of ravenous raccoons. Or if I’m watching one of my nieces or nephews and they get away from me again.
Good on you, Jenny!
Many kudos to you for finishing!
Hurray. That always looked like a fun run, but I’ve never made it over. I like to play the your butt is bigger than mine so I better bump it up and pass you game. This totally sucks when walkers pass me….annoying!
*grin*
Can I count reading this post as my “workout”, ‘cus seriously felt like I ran with you!!! Way to go Jenny!!!!!
Congrats! When I clicked on your page my first thoughts were, hey, she kind of reminds me of Lance Armstrong.
You? Are a Rock Star. I am awed by you. Wow.