5K Training - Running in the Rain

I'm training for my first 5K race scheduled for Thanksgiving morning. This is my first "training" run - previously I had been running just to run, or to warm up for hockey. For my first "training," I had planned to run two miles last night. Then, well, maybe 1.5. I barely made it 1.

It was POURING yesterday. I wanted to have the experience of running in adverse conditions. Of course I have no "gear" for running in the rain - just a gortex rain jacket (thanks, Smarty Pants!) and, well, clothes. My Runner has all this stuff - spandex underarmor, arm bands, tech shirt... I have yoga pants and a long-sleeved tee from Old Navy.

All day I had been ready to run. I was psyched about signing up for the 5K with Pocket Size, and she and I had made a schedule to run together before the race. I'm working on a training schedule - there's a lot of "couch to 5K" type programs that are easy to adapt. All my planning is based on the thought that I could go at least 1.5 miles on this run.

Even when the day turned as dark as night and the rain was coming down in sheets, I was ready to go. I was excited to get wet. It felt hardcore to run in the rain. Like, maybe now that I'm a jock, I can *also* be a runner. My Runner asked me, "You sure you want to run?" about eight times while we were getting ready. YES. I want to run.

We drive to the park where we usually run, but it's so dark the thought of running through the woods is kinda scary. Even though it's wetter, we decide to use the track. This was bad choice number two (bad choice number one happened earlier, but I didn't know it yet). There are three guys working on speed - THEY are hardcore. I am an amateur. But I'm ready to run. I'm excited to be here. We start running as we approach the track. About 50 yards in, it hits me: I don't wanna run.

My body is more than complaining, it's fighting me. Every muscle that I use to run is bitching that it has the day off. It starts cajoling me - just walk, it says. We don't mind moving, but not running, please, anything but that!!

I slow my pace, but I keep going. My Runner has upped the positive energy to help me through it. "How do you feel?" he asks a few times. "Fine." (Subtext - I don't want to think about how I'm feeling, I just want to finish and get it over with.) The rain isn't bothering me. The cold is there, but not with a mission, not with a vengeance. I just don't want to be running.

I know 1.5 won't happen. But I can't run less than a mile. I won't walk - I know this is something my body CAN do, and I know I'm not going to hurt myself running a mile. Besides, I'm here, I'm wet, and I've dragged another person with me. I tell myself these things over and over. I think about Sherpa and the fact that he did this for THIRTY SIX HOURS and I'll be done in less than 15 minutes.

Why is my body rebelling? I played hockey on Monday, ran a mile before that on the track with no problem. I didn't even drink the night before. I ate lunch at.... oh. There it is. The last thing I ate was a banana at 2:30pm, more than 3 hours ago. Mistake number one has reared it's ugly head.

I can't not eat. Well, I can, but it turns me into Mr. Hyde. My blood sugar levels completely affect me emotionally and physically. I've made this mistake before - most recently at a hockey practice where I became dizzy and sick after playing a hard 15 -20 minutes of 3 on 3. Now I carry the granola bars Mop bought me that night in my hockey bag - half of one will stave off any issues without filling me so much I don't want to move around. Tonight I have learned that lesson again.

We complete the mile. I have a little pang in my side and a pit in my stomach a mile wide. Smells from The Puritan Restaurant are driving me wild. When we get back in the car, my brain shuts off and I'm floating through the world. I need to get food now.

Home's not too far, food's heating up less than 10 minutes after leaving the park. I wolf down the fabulous smoked beef and local veggies My Runner cooked up and brought over, washing it down with a Gold Lager from Soudt's, I make my third mistake: food overkill. I stressed my body by exercising with no fuel, and it was not interested in the high octane it was getting. I kept eating, knowing that I needed it, but I was not feeling good, and it was all I could do to keep my brain on the conversation My Runner and I were having. Even then, I'm not sure I was all that successful.

So - lessons learned: 1. Set appropriate goals. 2. EAT, fool! 3. If you break a rule, don't overdue the fix.

Next training run: Friday. Plan: 1 mi, + up to .5 if I'm feeling it. Goal: distance.