The Miracle of Racing

As I wade through yet another recovery day as tomorrow is race day it gave me a chance to redirect my soulful pining for Orange Theory, and my low lying anxiety that exists with every workout day missed as if somehow I will wake up the plus sized lady I once was. Today's reflection is on my first solo race of last year. One year ago I ran the Insane Inflatable 5k. My sidekick was stuck with cheerleading duties at U Albany and I was on my own.  I considered for a brief moment playing the sympathy card and pushing my ever understanding husband to come with the kids. However at that point my 3 youngest were 4,5 and 10. To have that brood in the midst of a crowded place with inflatable stuff was probably not something that would make me wife of the year. My second option was to not go at all. After all I had never done any kind of obstacle racing and now with nobody there to push me through like I had with the dry triathlon about six weeks earlier it seemed so daunting. 

Yes. I took a gentle ribbing from Spartan Racing friends who teased about my "silly little bounce house thing". Maybe this was the thing that pushed me as if I bowed out of this event it would have made facing my own quitting that much worse. So I went. I pulled into a local farm on a warm day in Sept and parked amongst the recently harvested corn rows. I walked to the check in by myself and had a good look around. Lots of groups from every walk of life and fitness level and every age. As is human nature, I found myself looking around for people who probably would be a little slower than me or maybe struggle a bit. Not that I wanted them to fail, I just did not want to feel the anxiety of being last that had been instilled in me back in my Hadley Junior High days and being the last one finishing the Cooper. 

Finally it was my wave time. We were off. Over the obstacle, and down the trail I went. One by one I took on the obstacles. Some of the runners were faster than me, some were slower. However, I will never forget one woman. She outweighed me by about 50 pounds. She did not appear to be the picture of fitness yet there she was running along the trail and ultimately encouraging me. She explained she had started racing a year before and had fallen in love with it. We did a good chunk of the course together as she pushed me along and reminded me when you take on obstacles size does not necessarily matter. Ultimately we got separated but she tossed a few words of encouragement to me as we did. That I will not forget. 

Finally I came up on the last hill. I could see the final slide gleaming in the sunlight and I realized I just may be able to do this. To some it may have seemed like a silly bouncy house thing, but to me, that last slide looked a whole lot like the backside of Mount Everest. As I slid down I realized that I had conquered this race all by myself, not because of someone else dragging me, pushed along by the kind words of a stranger, but essentially by myself. In the moment of the photographer snapping my picture as I slid down, I began to realize I was probably capable of more than just this, not only in the world of obstacle racing but in life. 

So tomorrow I will set off on the same race. This time with my sidekick Jack, my 20 year old son and life coach who is really more like the Batman to my Robin. This is now one year later, the race is now our warm up. What once looked so huge and so scary is the warm up for our much bigger 5 mile 30 obstacle race in two weeks. Yes. The terror of that impending event is already keeping me up at night. Nonetheless, it is amazing to me what one year can bring. Cannot wait to share my race day reflections and as always believing the best is yet to come.