This weekend I was in the Peachtree Road Race, which is the largest 10K in the world, that takes place on the 4th of July. Every year, I look forward to it like crazy. This year was my seventh time. There’s always a lot of people, bands playing, runners, walkers, people cheering from the sidelines, people advertising, water spraying to cool you off, police standing guard, cross dressers, dogs in 4th of July gear, people in tutus, and every type of person you can see.
The morning of, my mom and I (who I run with) were going so slow. We began conversations standing in the hallway. I tried to sink wash my gyms clothes (I had nothing clean), throwing them in the dryer at the last minute, stalling for more drying time. It was my 7th time and her 13th and we thought we had it down.
Well, we were in the S wave this year, and the waves end with Y. (Why no Z wave? Idk) The Y wave left at 9:05 am… when were just arriving on our train’s platform. The platform, normally full of fellow runner’s, was empty. There was even a guy running back to his car with a finisher’s bag as we were boarding the train.
We crossed the starting line at 9:20. And when we got there, the strip used to track your time was already inactive, so we don’t have a recorded starting time. Also, we had to run 2 miles to reach any people. We ran for an extra mile just to solidify it.
In the beginning, I was so bummed. But my mom was positive (if only because I was negative) and as we ran, darting through the cleanup crews that were staring at us like we were crazy, as well as a few other late comers, I had to hold my composure and I put my months of training to work and ran three miles in. That was my shining accomplishment. I couldn’t believe training actually paid off. And after I was so depressed in the beginning.
It was still depressing, though, lol. They ran out of finisher’s bags that had the t-shirts and my mom was pretty pissed about that. And we missed a lot of the fanfare that I loved so much, even with the remaining people packing up cheering us from the sidewalk. And we both realized that had we not ran, we would have never caught up, which scared me.
After a mile, and then another with no people we were starting to lose hope. But we eventually caught up, my mom hadn’t had trained in running at all. I’m so proud of her.
But that’s never happening again. I love that race and all the pop and noise way to much to miss out again. But it did show me what I was capable of. So for that I’m grateful 🙂