Don't Sell Yourself Short
Dakota and I had the fun opportunity to run the Freedom Run yesterday celebrating the 4th of July.
He had his race.
I had mine.
A couple of years ago I had the chance to run this same race (my first 10k back then) with a good friend and trainer of mine, LuAnn. We trained for the race, and on race day, we were ready. I think we finished up right around 54 minutes, and we were extremely proud of our accomplishment. It was a great time and a fun memory.
Last week Dakota and I decided last minute to sign up for this year's race. We hadn't put much thought into it.
Part of me was concerned for Dakota. He had absolutely no doubt in his mind he could do it. He kept telling me he could run the 5k in 30 minutes. Like every mom, I just smiled and nodded, thinking, "Yeah, right...when have you done that honey?" I was concerned he'd get winded and give up. I told him "slow and steady wins the race. Don't lead out too soon. Don't push yourself too early on. Find a nice pace and stick to it. Try not to stop because once you stop it's hard to start. Save your energy for the end. Then push hard. Give it what you've got......More than anything, I'm proud of you for doing it...for wanting to do it." I didn't want him to be disappointed. I didn't want him to give up. I didn't want him to not enjoy himself. I wanted him to have fun.
Once we signed up, he wanted to do everything that mommy did. He wanted to eat what I ate pre-race. He wanted to drink what I drank pre-race. He listened and obeyed every word relating to the race. From the moment we signed up, he took the race very seriously. He asked me more than once what time to set his alarm the morning of. He wanted to wear Daddy's Glide to prevent chafing. He wanted to have new music for his iPod. He wanted to drink electrolytes in the car up to race time.
He was mentally prepared.
That still didn't prevent me from being concerned. I didn't want his hopes of a strong finish to be shattered.
The night before I started looking up previous results from past years for this same race. Just how fast were women running in my age category anyway? What were the records? Should I even attempt it? Or should I just let this be a fun run? I couldn't stop thinking about the temptation of pushing myself and seeing just how fast I could run. My previous best 5k time was 8 minutes per mile flat. I hadn't time myself recently for a 10k, but even during the Ragnar my best time downhill was 8:18 per mile.
I'd need to run a 7:35 mile to compare to last year's 2nd and 3rd place winners in my age category. Could I shave another 25 seconds per mile off my time and still run 6.2 miles? My goal was to get under 8. I prepped like I did for the marathon. I ate my steak and yam dinner the night before. I drank gallons (plural) of water. I tried to get more sleep the night before. I got up early so I could eat 3 hours pre-race (my usual).
I was mentally prepared.
Yesterday morning turned out to be a little cooler than normal, but that was okay. It would help us cool during the race. They definitely got the turn out they expected. There were people everywhere. Oma and Opa were there to help me with Dakota. Both our races started at the same time - 7 a.m.
As I lined up for mine, he lined up for his. I was off to run 6.2 miles along with 1200 other strangers; he was off to run 1 mile along with 400 other strangers. We were just one in a sea of people. Anticipation and butterflies building. Music going. My Garmin set (he wants one).
Then it was time to run.
During my run I thought about Dakota a lot and how proud of him I was. He was doing it. He was following through. He never doubted himself. He never complained. He wasn't scared. This was his first REAL race. A mile is no small task. It's a respectable distance, and my boy was running it.
I never once looked at my watch to see how far I'd gone. The only number I was concerned about was my pace.
Running yesterday didn't feel great. It didn't feel as natural as it did running the St. George. I had a tummy ache and the prempting of a side-ache. I was running faster than normal, and my heart could feel it. My stomach was in my throat and at any moment I felt like I could lose it. I didn't want to stop though. I just stared straight ahead, tuned into my new iPod playlist, and pushed along. I wasn't going to give up. I didn't want to have any regrets.
By the end of the race I was sick. I couldn't wait for the finish line. It didn't come soon enough. But somehow I managed to do it. I reached my goal. My Garmin said I averaged 7:52 minutes per mile with an overall time of 48:54.
I didn't place top 3 or even top 5 in my class this year, but I had achieved my goal - a goal I thought no way I'd come close to. Even if I would have averaged low 8's, I would have been happy.
With a sign of relief and a huge sense of satisfaction, I went to find Dakota. I wanted to know how he did. I finally tracked him down. There he was with a huge smile on his face and his first real medal around his neck. My boy. When I found out he'd run the mile in 9:44 I got choked up. I gave him the biggest hug imaginable. I think it's safe to say I was prouder of him at that moment than I was of my own recent accomplishment. He was so excited to tell me all about it. He told me he pushed hard and didn't want to give up. He said he only stopped twice.
We should all learn something from Dakota's words. Push hard and don't give up.
Don't sell yourself short. That's the lesson I learned yesterday. Set your dreams high. Go for it. Test yourself. Don't limit yourself. Expect the best of yourself and rise to the occasion. What's the worst that can happen? Even if you don't reach your goal, you are trying harder, doing better, and expecting the best of your abilities. That's how we grow. That's how we get better, stronger, faster, more self-confident.
Don't sell yourself short. You owe it to yourself to expect more of yourself. Reaching your goal or not, you're a winner.
jen.fit.training@gmail.com
