Going for a Sub-26: Madison Aruna 5k Recap

Location: Madison, WI

Date/Time: Saturday, October 1, 2016; 8:30 am

Size: 156

Weather: high 40s, slightly windy, cloudy

Course: Road race with rolling hills throughout

Charity: Aruna Project

Time: 24:45

Rank: Overall: 28/156; Age Group (F20-29): 4/23, 5th female

Madison is pretty :)

Ever since I ran the Geneseo Trio last year, I've had my eye on a sub-26 5k.  Even last year, I knew it was in reach.  Now that I'm in the best shape of my life, it would be no problem.  But I wanted to wait until I had moved and settled down a little before chasing down a new PR.

I have to admit, I haven't been adjusting well.  I moved to Madison, WI four weeks ago (willingly, I should say) and I still feel like my world has been turned upside down.  On top of that, I had one of those weeks when nothing seemed to go right.  It got even worse when I realized I could get in my car and drive 500 miles in any direction, and I still wouldn't reach a single person who loved me, and could soothe me in my loneliness.

So you can imagine the morning I woke up for the Aruna 5k, the last thing I wanted to do was run.  I just wanted to stay in bed and cry all day.

I talked myself into going, though.  My bed could wait for me.  A potential sub-26, however, was long overdue.

The Aruna 5k supports women in India who are trapped in sex slavery.  I wish I could say I was noble and charitable and that's why I chose to run this race.  Nope.  I only ran it because it was nostalgic.  My undergrad had an Aruna 5k on campus every year, and being in a foreign place, I desperately clung to anything that reminded me of home.  The fact that my entry fee was going towards freeing enslaved women was an afterthought.

Anyway, enough with the homesick tangents.  On with the race recap!

There were about 200 people in the race so I was able to seed myself towards the beginning.  I was afraid I was being too ambitious, but I tried to pace myself by following a pair of teenage identical twins.  About half a mile in, the course winded uphill, and that was when I found my stride.  I passed the twins and started to pull ahead of the pack.  I've heard about Wisconsinites complaining about the hills in Madison, but they are nothing compared the literal valley that I ran routinely back in New York.

I was feeling good right up until the beginning of mile 2, when I started to flag a little bit.  I focused on not letting people pass me, and for half a mile, I didn't.  I wasn't gaining any ground on them, but as long as I kept ahead, I felt I was in good shape, maybe even for an age group award.

Then at mile 2.5, a woman passed me.  And then another woman.  I tried to catch them but I didn't have it in me.  I watched them gradually pull farther ahead, and tried to remind myself that I was still running my race.  Even if I couldn't compete with others, I still had to give this race everything that I had.

Unfortunately, this was the point that the pain started to set in.  My legs started feeling weak, I carefully controlled my breathing to stave off the imminent side stitch.  But no amount of breathing was going to help the churning in my stomach.  I was approaching mile 3 when I heard footsteps gain on me.  I did a big race no-no and quickly peeked over my shoulder to see a middle-aged man in a green shirt still several strides behind, and struggling.  If I kept my pace, I would finish ahead.

But my body would not cooperate, not even for the last 0.1 miles.  The green-shirt man passed me, and I knew my legs had what it took to regain my lead.  My stomach, however...I was not willing to vomit today.  I resigned myself to letting him pull ahead.

As I rounded the corner to the finish line, I squinted to look at the clock.  I was hoping to see 25:XX, but to my surprise, the clock read 24:XX.  Just a few more seconds and I would not only get the PR I wanted, but blow it out of the water by a full minute with a sub-25!  

My stomach was not doing well, and despite my elation, I could not pick up the pace to the finish.  But deliberately running the first 2 miles had paid off, because I ended up finishing 24:45.  An average pace of 7:58, which I didn't think I was capable of sustaining for a mile, much less a 5k.

After the race, I immediately rushed past the volunteers (who were apparently trying to hand me a bottle of water, but I was too sick to notice) and collapsed on the grass.  After a minute or two, I felt settled enough and hobbled over to the refreshments tent, wondering where everyone else had gotten their bottles of water.  Luckily I found a cooler and sprayed water everywhere before managing to chug a couple cups.  While I was water-boarding myself, the green-shirt man from earlier tapped me on the shoulder and thanked me for pacing him.  I also got a free hot dog, but forgot the name of it, so I just pointed at the desired sausage with an empty bun and said, "I want the..not the brat thing...the red thing."  Then I made duck faces with the hot dog and sent out tons of snapchats about a race well done.

Was I suffering from exercise-induced hypoxia?  Possibly.  Was my behavior embarrassing?  Definitely.  Was I too excited about my sub-25 to care?  Hell yes.