Race Report

Yesterday was the local Fireworks 5K that my sister and I ran in last year (the first year of the event) and again this year.  We both got faster and we both finished at the top for our age group (we flip-flopped - this year she was second and I was first - different age groups.  Very.).  My official time was 27:15.90 - a PR for me.  WOOT!

At least this year they managed to STOP traffic - last year?  Notsomuch.  Of course, this year one of the officers handling traffic flow was the husband of a former high school "friend".  She and I have had a falling out (apparently, because I sent her a Christmas card?  Yes.  That was it.) but, ya know, I'm a friendly kinda girl.  So I acknowledged her husband as I ran passed.  I'm sure that broke some kind of former friendship rule that she'll let me know about in the rudest way possible but, hey!  What else is new?  At least he didn't trip me.

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The course is a 5K/10K with the 10K being a double loop of the 5K.  As we were nearing the finish, I was running next to some older (as in, 70-year-old) guy (no shirt, of course.  This IS western PA).  Because of the double-loop set up, the first of the 10K runners ran passed on their way back.  As the first guy came up I muttered under my breath, "Show off..." and the old dude about fell over laughing.  I musta said it louder than I thought.  I was wearing my earbuds, but still.

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Everyone has different reasons why they run.  Mine change, sometimes daily, but a repeating theme is the girl I was in high school.  I was one of two girls who were ALWAYS last in "the mile".  As in, couldn't complete it in under 20 minutes the first time so I had to run it AGAIN to try to make that time.  (Mind you, no one ever told me what the hell I was supposed to actually DO to be able to run it in less time, quality phys ed teachers right there).  The girl running next to me was the "friend" I mentioned above.  Sometimes, when I'm running, for each step I take I'll picture her sitting on her couch eating another chip.  And I'll take another step.  And another.  My mile is usually under nine (9!) minutes these days.  It's nice to picture someone who has hurt you eating your dust once in awhile.