My First 10K!

For a first-time 10Ker, your inner monologue during the race can be a blessing or a curse. Here are 38 totally normal thoughts you have during your first 10K race.

1. I am so ready for this. 
2. But nervous, I am more nervous. 
3. What if I don't finish? 
4. It's not a big deal if I don't finish? Right? 
5. No. I'll finish, even if it's three hours from now. 
6. Are we going to start soon?  I don't want to wait any longer. Let's get this over with. 
7. Why aren't we moving yet?  
8.  Wow, she looks fast. Moving away from her. 
9.  And that little kid. I can't have a little kid beating me.
10. Here we go. Is it too late to back out? 
11. This isn't too bad. I'll be OK. 
12. The herd is thinning out, too. 
13. Dang it, there's that little kid. He's totally passing me. Speed up. 
14. Nope. Too fast. Gonna die. 
15. Is it considered quitting if I stop to walk for a little bit? 
16. Too late. 
17. How much longerrrrrrr? 
18. What does that sign say? Only mile one? MILE ONE?? 
19. I'm gonna need a drink after this.
20. Why did I sign up for this?
21. Thank you, mister volunteer, for cheering me on. I definitely needed someone to tell me that "You Can Do It." I can do it. 
22. Already mile two? Yaaaaasssssss. 
23. Crap, I think I'm getting a blister. I'll own this battle wound proudly. 
24. Gah, what's that pain my side? Is this one of those things they call "stitches?"
25. Ouuuuuuccchhh.   
26.  Hey, I know him. Act like I'm not about to die. Smile through the pain. 
27.  I'm never walking again. 
28.  Wait, is that the finish line? THE GLORIOUS FINISH LINE!  
29.  I don't really know how but I'm speeding up right now. 
30.  Push. Push. Push. Almost there. 
32.  Was that the little kid from the starting line I just passed?  Miracles do happen. 
32.  I feel famous with all of these people cheering me on. I'll take it.  
33.  Haaaaaaa-llelujah. 
34.  Oh. My. Gosh. That was not fun. Legs like jelly. Must sit. 
35.  A medal? For me? I'm so awesome. 
36.  I deserve nachos after that. 
37.  I'm totally Instagramming my medal and my race number.  Picstitch, here I come.  
38.  When's the next one.

  At the end of 2014, I was thinking about the new challenge I would be setting for myself. I had done several 5Ks over the last couple of years, but I had never taken on a 10K so I decided that would be my challenge for 2015. I was very hesitant at first because I have only done 5Ks up to this point, but I guess that is the meaning of a challenge, right? Taking on something you hope you can accomplish but not totally sure you will.   

The organized races have enjoyed a considerable surge in popularity over the last few decades, and every one sees a large number of participants trying it for the first (and often last) time. I find it ironic that this has occurred while on average we are becoming a bunch of couch potatoes. But here is the whole point, when you are actually walking in an organized race, even though there may be thousands there, it is an extremely personal endeavor. You are not racing anyone. It is a battle between yourself and this idiotic notion that formed months ago when you thought this would be a good idea. For many first timers, it is their Mt. Everest.

It was a very bright and sunny day Sunday morning as I headed to Cascade Locks with Kate, Maria, and Rose for the Bridge of the Gods 10K/marathon. Walking is addictive and contagious, admittedly, I fell for it. When the day came I was petrified! I really did not train as much as I would have liked and I was afraid I would not be able to make the whole 6.2 miles, let alone in the time limit I had set for myself.  

For several days before race day, I woke up feeling anxious, kept thinking..."What if I can't make it?" over and over again. I went to bed Saturday night thinking the same thing over and over again..."What if I can't make it?" It's like counting sheep but you are not actually counting the sheep, you are counting the time and hope this nightmare would be over.

Come race day...excitement gushes thru my blood while I get ready. At this point, everything began to move quickly. What I felt would be like an eternity whizzed by and the start of the race began. We were moving, the mats underfoot were beeping, we were moving slowly, then faster.

The route was longer than any other race I had ever done. As the race began and I was walking, Kate and Rose were gone in a shout but Maria stayed with me. I plugged in my earphones and went to that place that walkers go...got into my zone. I met many wonderful walkers on the trail, all there for different reasons but yet, all with the same goal...to finish this race. 

Before this race even began, I had a finish time in mind -- less than two hours. For the longest time I did not want to tell anybody of my time in case I could not meet it, and I did not want to be embarrassed.  I feared that I would not be able to keep the pace needed to finish in two hours.  I know what you all are thinking, that the time does not matter, the fact that I am doing a 10K is what matters. If you haven't noticed, I can be competitive.  I like having a “goal” to work toward and finishing 6.2 miles in less than two hours was my goal. 

I will not lie though, the last mile was killer and I really just wanted to stop, but I just kept hearing that voice telling me that I could do this. I wanted to prove to myself that I am capable, I could do it even after having both of my knees replaced with the last 4-1/2 years. As I was coming into what I felt was the end of the race, I felt as if I was moving so slow, like a crawl (was I crawling?). I finally saw the finish line and hoped that it was as close as it looked. I heard the beep, looked up at the clock and saw 1:50:19.5.  In that moment I was just glad at this point to be standing, but barely, so glad to have finished...but then I was told to keep walking as I was holding up others trying to finish, but let me tell you, the first place I found to collapse, I did. 

Today marks a great day for me, I have completed my first 10k. It all boils down to setting for yourself realistic challenges and telling yourself you CAN do it. Thanks for all of you who have helped.  You led me here and got me through it.  I was befriended, inspired, coached, and supported.  You have helped me set new goals, face new challenges, enjoy new accomplishments, make new friends, and enjoy my racing even more.