Dead Last

It started last month, or so, when I commented to a group of friends that, because my next scheduled half marathon event is not until September, currently, I’m in the “off-season.” Someone suggested I might sign up for an event before September and mentioned a 10K local to my home.

In my arrogance, I figured, why not? A 10K? In half marathon training, we call that Friday. I regularly walk further than 6 miles when preparing for a half, 10K would be no problem. After signing up, I felt mildly concerned: I know how to prepare for a half marathon, but how far should I be walking to prepare for a 10K. I walked a little bit in the weeks leading up to the 10K but really, I figured, how hard could this be? The event advertised no minimum pace and hey, check me out, I finish half marathons with 2000 people slower than me at least. I had this one in the bag.

Then I stuck my foot straight down my throat. I posted on a message board the question: “People train for a 10K?” A friend of mine responded – someone I really like and respect a lot. She, along with a few other friends I know, are training to build up their endurance for their first ever 10K events. Some want to build up for half marathons, others I hope will build up their confidence to consider half marathons. She replied to my snarky question, “Yes, some of us do.”

I felt 2-inches tall. As a back-of-the-packer, I regularly figure, “If I can do this, anyone can do this.” I really appreciate the support of the runners faster than me who do not diminish my accomplishment. And in one short sentence, I trivialized a group of people who are my friends. I, naturally, felt defensive: I completely believe in my heart that my friends can do this. I have more faith in them than they do!

But the reality remained: I trivialized their challenges. That’s just not the person I want to be.

But I still had more lessons in humility to come: As I posted last week, the day of the 10K, I lined up at the start line… a rather primitive start-line compared to my typical events. Yes, they had a chip reader set up to cross. But we just stood there – no corrals, no microphones and speakers, no DJs, just a guy talking to us and saying “OK, GO!” That was it. My friend and I started off running but not for long. By the time we finished the first mile, not only had every person behind us in the 10K passed us, but most of the 5K participants who started five minutes behind us had as well.

I watched my Garmin watch for our pace and time. Logically, someone should have been slower than us. My running buddy and friend Frannie walked with me. We had a respectable time for a couple of mostly walkers. Yet, still, we passed every turnaround and saw the walker/runners faster than we were ahead of us – and no one behind us. Ultimately, we crossed the finish line dead.last. (The official results report that someone crossed the finish line 30 seconds behind us but no one in our group remembers seeing anyone else come in after us. We would have seen someone behind us or if we passed someone on the course. Who knows what happened.)

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I struggle with this issue: As a walker, I feel inadequate – or I feel that somehow the endurance event world considers me inadequate. Various events have different minimum time requirements. I appreciate runDisney events for the same reasons that many runners avoid them: runDisney offers walker-friendly opportunities. Yes, walkers are welcome on the runDisney courses! Imagine that. Even when most running experts agree that runners perform better in distance events when they take breaks and run with walking intervals, many runners refuse to stop for intervals. One runner I know so frequently makes dismissive comments to me when I say that I walk that I avoid mentioning any of my workouts or events to her. For months after earning my “bling” at a half marathon, I carry it in my purse and show off to friends and family. I keep my bling tightly secure in her presence. I just do not need to hear it from her. One time I saw her on my way to walk with my sons at their school and she said “Are you going to run with them?” Not thinking I said “We’re walking” and she said “Oh, come on, Adrienne! You should RUN!”

Why should I run? Really? What is wrong with walking???? Why is she diminishing my accomplishment????

I have experimented with interval training. I found that, thanks to the recovery time between even short intervals, my average pace significantly slowed when I tried to run. I realize, and I hope, that with training, my endurance and pace might improve, but I find myself very frustrated with just how hard this seems to be for me. I don’t know what my problem is: Is my body just not made to move faster? Does my BMI handicap me? Do I just not workout often enough? Am I not pushing myself hard enough because I like to avoid pain?

I have heard about programs designed to help people finish a 5K and I wonder “Why would someone need help to finish a 5K? A 5K is only three miles. My arrogant, flippant endurance distance athlete self would say of three miles: “We call that Tuesday.” A friend recently shared her experience with that program and the first thing I realized was “They don’t mean to help you finish a 5K, they mean to help you RUN a 5K.”

I asked her about the program she had and she said that to start off, the program suggested a running and walking interval of 1 minute 30 seconds. That is, run for 1:30 and then walk for 1:30.

One Minute Thirty Seconds.

Ok, so first of all, since September 2009, I have finished six half marathons and a 10K. I cannot run for one minute thirty seconds. By the end of my one minute intervals I’m ready to stop. I have even experimented with 30 second running intervals instead of one minutes, hoping the shorter recovery time might help my pace. But even the programs designed to encourage people to try the shortest event distance available set up an expectation to run. Running is the goal, not just conquering the distance.

I see many people who started participating in events after I did. Some found motivation on their own, some tell me that my stories inspired them to make and achieve their goals. And almost every single one of them finishes their events faster than I ever have. They not only caught up to me, they zipped straight past me, leaving me in their dust.

When I tell people I participate in half marathons, I often hear “Oh, I couldn’t do that. I can’t run like that” and I reply “Oh, I don’t run!” I feel so much healthier and so accomplished, I want others to know that they can, too! But somehow I still sense that walking isn’t good enough.

Are some people just lazier than I am? Don’t they see that this fat, middle aged, menopausal mom of three can do it? How do they realize they can, too? Do I not give myself enough credit?

When I redundantly ask, “People train for a 10K?”, I’m not trying to dismiss their challenges and accomplishments, I’m minimizing my own.

I get validation from my “peers.” I know plenty of runners who think my pace is fine and dandy. They encourage me and support me. They answer my questions. They virtually cheer for me over Facebook and internet message boards, even when we live thousands of miles apart from each other. When an online update misreports my split times, they worry about me. When an online report shows me making up time between splits, they cheer for me. My cup overflows and my heart swells when I read their cheers hours after the race was over – I know in the middle of my events that even though they might not be standing on the side of the road, they follow my progress.

But then…

Then I come in last. I question myself. Instead of congratulating myself for getting my butt off the couch, I criticize myself for not being good enough to get better. I beat myself up and throw myself a pity party.

The good news is that I have a new sense of pride for my friends starting the path. I need to find the balance and the perspective.

Here is my new hope for myself:

If I cannot train myself to a faster pace, I hope I can come to accept my accomplishments and give myself the credit I deserve instead of beating myself up for not feeling good enough.

I guess we’ll wait and see.