There are so many times in our lives when we set out to achieve a goal and the anxiety of accomplishing the goal overtakes the process. This almost happened to me with the 5K race in Hartford on Saturday. For weeks I’d been training, using the “Couch to 5K” plan, which starts beginning runners off slowly, walking ten minutes a day, then leading up to running three miles at the end of the program, which is eight weeks altogether. Well, I hung the schedule on my refrigerator, checking off the days, running each segment as was suggested. But, as John Lennon so beautifully said, “Life is what happens when you’re making other plans.” I discovered that the week before the Run, when my knee became swollen and sore from osteoarthritis. After all of the training and sacrificing, would I be able to run in the 5K?
That week, I iced and rested my knee, propped it at every opportunity. I didn’t walk unless I had to, and I stayed away from the gym and running trails. Finally on Thursday I made the decision to try to run, telling myself that if I experienced pain, I would consider not doing the 5K, or walking the entire route. Well, as luck would have it (and probably thanks to Motrin), the running wasn’t bad. My knee felt weak, but I finished the training three minutes short of my maximum time goal, and decided I would run the 5K on Saturday.
Saturday morning turned into a beautiful day by the time I stood at the Starting line at 8:00 a.m. My “cheering” crowd was there and I met a few people in the lineup who like me, were running for the first time. The bell went off, and I began the three point one mile run. I had studied the map route and knew approximately where each mile began so that I’d push myself to continue on without feeling overwhelmed. Amazing, how the body responds to the mind! Here I was, a middle-aged woman who hasn’t run in her adult lifetime, jogging and running through the streets of Hartford, on my way to completing my first 5K. It was exhilarating! People were standing and cheering along the route, music was blaring from speakers, and I could hear the announcers at the Finish line.
Rounding past mile two I began to feel the creaks in my knee and my thigh muscles ached. There are a lot of hills in Hartford that I’d never before been aware of during my car traveling. I looked at my watch and noticed the I was running ahead of my “time”; which isn’t to say I was setting any records (quite the contrary), but I knew at that point that I’d “do it.” I’d cross the Finish Line and I’d be standing. My chest was heaving (should I have taken my “rescue asthma inhaler”?) and I was thirsty, even after drinking at the water station, when suddenly a woman in orange approached me and said, “You’re at mile 3–keep going.” So I did. Up one more hill and around the corner, and there was my daughter Allison with my granddaughter Talia in her arms, my son Dan, and friend Beth, all yelling, “You’re doing it!” Later Allison would tell me I looked like I was having one of the happiest times of my life. Then, under the Soldier’s Arch, where all runners finish, into the orange fences where my husband Tom was yelling and cheering for me. As I crossed the Finish line, I noticed I’d exceed my time by twelve minutes–more than I’d ever thought. And while that time wasn’t anything that would merit a medal or “place”, it was MY time, MY goal.
Afterwards, I was handed a “Finisher” waterbottle, snacks, and a 5K necklace. But the memorbilia I’ll cherish most is the handmade sign from Talia that reads, “Go Grammie! 5K! We love you!” and the “Runner” sign from Tom. Later that day, laying on the couch with hot and cold packs, I thought back to eight months ago when walking up a flight of stairs hurt my knees and caused me to lose breath. What a change had occured in eight months; it was like giving birth to a different person. And I am different, in so many ways, since that first time I wrote about why I wanted to participate in Connecticut’s Biggest Loser. Most importantly, I feel “new” and each day is a day to try to achieve a little more.
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