The Ankeny Optimist Summerfest 5k

Today, I ran and completed my second 5k race. My first since Dam to Dam. I had decided almost immediately after completely Dam to Dam, I knew I wanted to do another 5k race. I stepped up the intensity and frequency of my training runs hoping to improve.

Every couple days, I would hop online and look at other 5k races in the area. Nothing too serious. Window shopping I suppose. I was at MC Sports in Ankeny this last Sunday and saw a flyer and registration form for The Ankeny Optimists Summerfest 5k. Three days later, I registered for a race that was only five days away.

I figured I didn't need a lot of advance to get ready for it. I was already planning on running seven miles that day so what was 3.1?

Just like with Dam to Dam, the nervousness and excitment hit me the night before the race and built rapidly. I woke up around 6:00am and until race time at 8:00am, I was running on pure adrenaline.

My goal was to just simply beat my Dam to Dam time which was 33:48. I started out feeling really good. When my RunKeeper app on my phone told me that I hit the ten minute mark and had already gone 1.08 miles, I got concerned. I usually run about a 10-11 minute pace for long runs. A pace of under ten minutes per mile was definitely not where I've pushed my body before. Could I keep up this pace?

Why not? I thought. I felt great. I wasn't hurting too bad and my breathing wasn't ridiculous. I kept pushing. At the twenty minute mark, RunKeeper told me I was about 1.96 miles in. Well, I slowed down a bit but that's cool. That's still a good pace for me.

I noticed I began slowing down. I was hurting bad. It became a struggle to put one foot in front of the other. My breathing was labored and deep. I've read that you're supposed to run at a pace where you can have a conversation and talk without gasping for air. There's no way I'd be able to say my name without sucking air. I kept pushing. There was no way I was going to walk. No way.

I kept pushing and pushing up State Street. The strength of my legs weren't going to get me across that finish line. I needed to get mentally tough.

When I turned I got to the corner of State Street and Prairie Ridge Drive, the finish line was a matter of meters away in the Aquatic Center parking lot. I wanted to be done so bad. The only way to be done was to finish. The quickest way to finish was to sprint.

My legs were burning. My lungs were on fire. But I took off and pushed with every strength I had left, moving as fast as I could. Sprinting across the finish line, I could see my family waiting for me. I went over to them and lied down as I tried not to throw up.

I ended up getting a final time of 32:16. This was 1:32 better than my Dam to Dam time. Part of me was proud. I beat my previous time. Part of me was very frustrated. I know I started out too hard. I had a very real shot at getting a half an hour time but didn't pace myself well enough.

But, remember, I love to compete. Especially against myself. I thought about the race and the fact I could have done better for maybe twenty or thirty minutes. Then, it was time to move on.

I began thinking about my next race, my training for that race, what I was going to do better.

My decision is that I'm going to do one more 5k. Just one. I will get a 30 minute time on that 5k then I will be able to move on to 10k training.

Sometimes, I would like to sit back and look at how far I've come so far. I've lost 50+ pounds, I've lost almost ten inches off my waist, I've ran two 5k races, I improved on my time, blah, blah, blah. I can't seem to focus on these accomplishments for very long. I keep looking at what I have left to do. I have 12 more pounds to go until my goal of 205, I have to get a 30 minute 5k, I have to move on to 10k, I have to log more miles on bike, I have to do RAGBRAI next year, I have to get in a pool and work on my swim, I have to do a triathlon someday.

The old me, the 270ish pound lazy slob, would have been intimidated by that list. The old me, the fast food inhaling depressed loser, would have been satisfied with this part of the journey and call it good.

The new me, the 217 pound runner, is not intimidated. The new me, the guy who hasn't had a fast food burger since December, is so far from satisfied with how much I left to do.

I'm excited and motivated to keep going and to keep pushing what I thought I was ever capable of doing. I don't have to lose 12 more pounds, run more, bike more, swim more, do a tri, or keep improving myself physically. I get to do those things and I am going to do those things.

First thing's first: another 5k. Training resumes Tuesday. Bring it on.