Yesterday the Niff and I set out for the first race in our back-to-back-to-back racing series. In typical New England fashion, it had been nice all week, only to start to drizzle just as the race started. A drizzle when it's about 36 degrees out is not a drizzle. It's freezing rain. Through the ghetto of Haverhill.
We knew if we ran well we wouldn't have to be in the rain long so right before it started the Niff asked me how fast I wanted to run. Since she is the elite runner in the family and was running to be my pacer and support group, she figured 10 minute miles would be best and I agreed.
As the gunshot rang through the air I clicked my watch on so I could keep track of our splits. The first mile was the worst, mostly because it had a steady hill that seemed to climb forever. Once we got to the top though it was mostly smooth sailing.
At the first mile marker there was a clock and it said we covered our first mile in 10:06. That's right - the Niff was off the pace by only 6 seconds. She had no GPS watch telling her how fast she was running, nothing, just by feeling. Fucking INSANE.
Somewhere between the first and 2nd mile some 3rd floor fatties smoking cigarettes on their balcony asked everyone why we were running and mocking us. I started dying when Jen yelled up, "So we don't end up like you!!!"
Shortly after that, we coasted down the hill and say the photographer at the bottom, prime position for a pic. Note how she got that cool bib number. I guess when you run all the time you deserve cooler numbers.
We hit the 2nd mile marker almost exactly 10 minutes after the first mile. The rain was starting to pick it up, and about at the 2.5 mile mark Niff said we needed to pick it up for 20 seconds if we wanted to run a sub 30 minute 3 mile race so we did. Shortly after a bunch of young kids about 10 or 12 were gawking, asking us why we were running. Jen yelled, "Zombies!!!" and I said "You should run too..." I'm not sure if that scarred them for life or not, I didn't have time to look back to see if they were running.
With about 100 yards to go I looked at my watch and saw that we were at about 29:15 and we sprinted the rest of the way, clocking in at 29:27, all thanks to the best pacer out there. I couldn't have done it without her, I wouldn't have wanted to. She kept it fun by commenting on the surroundings and talking to me, while I struggled to breath and push my fat ass through the 3 miles but we did it. I told her the other day I didn't like running on the treadmill because it's not the same as running with her and it's true. It's not nearly as fun and is just "running".
I accomplished three goals:
- I wasn't the last person to finish
- I finished under 30 minutes
- I didn't walk or puke
Next weekend we have part 2: the 4 miler. Here is to hoping the weather cooperates and I can get the 2nd part of my tri-force like medal.
