I had the kind of run on Saturday that gets me excited about running. The kind of run that makes me jump up and down and clap my hands. The kind of run that makes the early morning wake ups and long miles worth it.
"What exactly happened?" you might ask. Well, a number of things...
1. I ran my fastest 20 miles EVER. Partly because...
2. I was involved in a battle of wills with two dogs. Now, if I could only find some wild hounds to scare the snot of me during the marathon I might be able to finish well under 5 hours. A safer and less frightening choice would be to use a pace group but that kind of takes the thrill out of it.
3. I tagged along for a few miles with two runners that I have only ever seen but have never spoken to. This was right after the dog incident and I could have wept with relief when I saw them coming up the road. They graciously allowed me to highjack their run and even invited me to run with them during the week. I'm glad my fear of feral animals didn't make a bad first impression.
4. At about 8 miles into my run, I crashed a 5k and helped a friend set a personal record.
|"My running buddy this morning! Made my PR of 29:45 for a 5k! What a blessing that Lauren crashed our race! :)" -Chanice|
Normally, I strictly adhere to running etiquette. Race crashing is a big NO NO. It's not fair to the other participants or to the race directors. In my defense, it was a small race, I didn't use any of their supplies (such as water or bananas), and I didn't cross the finish line. It wasn't my intention to crash but as I was headed against the flow of the race, I saw my friend Chanice (who is one of the many people in my life that inspires me to keep running) and I couldn't help myself. I just had to crash. So, take me to runner's jail because I have no remorse. I am guilty. Guilty, guilty, guilty.