I learned a few weeks ago that Mr. P was planning to run a half-marathon in Gloucester as part of his heroic training to qualify for the Boston marathon (he needs to tun a 3 hour 10 minute marathon in May, gulp). I also learned that there was a 5K an hour before the half-marathon, so I decided to avail myself of the opportunity to run a race (and allow Mr. P to run a race) with optimal car-pooling and Little Boy supervision. A 5K! Since I’m training for the Vermont 100K, I hope I don’t sound elitist when I say that 5K is, like, a drop in the bucket to me at this point. But since my pace is turtle-like, I figured it would be a good opportunity to challenge myself, maybe set a 5K PR, and at the very least not go insane with jealousy watching the half-marathoners come in. I never expected this:
First Place! (Females 30-39)
Somehow I managed to finish 4th girl (out of a total field of 250), and 1st place females 30-39, at 22 minutes and 51 seconds — a scorching 7:21 pace for me, and 3 minutes faster than my old PR. Not bad for an ultrarunner who never does speed work!
But I wasn’t the only podium-placer in the household:
Mr. P finished 2nd for males 40-49 at a PR of 1 hour 33 minutes. As he came in to the finish line, I yelled customary encouraging things like “Go! You’ve got this!” coupled with “FASTER! Go FASTER!” because there were a few other males on his tale. Fellow spectators seemed amused by my encouraging nagging, but he pressed ahead decisively to the finish line.
Little Boy didn’t run today — except on the playground, like a little maniac. He won a helium-filled balloon.
