Finishing was an Added Bonus - My First 10K

Me with Katlyn after
Princess 5K

When my good friend and RunDisney partner Katlyn told me to register for the Star Wars Dark Side 10K, I thought she was insane. I was lucky enough to make it through the few 5K races I've done, let alone double that. But, ever my cheerleader, she convinced me to do it and I registered and began writing up my training plan.

That was in the last quarter of last year, and in typical fashion, I chose to wait until the weather cooled down to start my training. But we had a strange year, with Christmas in the 80s and cooler weather didn't hit until January--then some health issues came up, work became more tiring, and before you knew it, the Princess 5K was here in February. I muddled my way through it, knowing it was more of a fun run to begin with.

Diana in the middle - Princess 5K

I then had two months to prepare for the 10K-- 2 months and a trip to DC that resulted in a multi-blistered foot. The universe was voting strongly against me--it seemed everyone was. I didn't mention the upcoming 10K often, but when I did I was met with skeptical glances and doubt. I was determined to prove everyone wrong, and mad at myself that I let the world get me down enough to not complete training for the race. Defiantly, I bought a shirt for the race that said "I find your lack of faith disturbing."

Race weekend came, and packet pick up day I walked around with Katlyn and Diana (RunDisney buddy number 2!) making small comments about not finishing. I had never done 6.2 miles in one go, and for the first time to be during a race that held certain pacing requirements, I was certain I wouldn't make it. I resigned myself to believe that starting meant more than anything, and having registered for the Wine and Dine 10K in November, I knew not finishing would drive me even harder to succeed for my second 10K.

Katlyn and Me with Jabba

Then, the night before the race I found myself up all night with food poisoning. I didn't get any sleep. My stomach was killing me and I was certain that would be my out - I would start and they would find me sick on the side of the road somewhere.

When the alarms went off, Katlyn and I got up, donned our race gear, and made our way to the shuttle bus. We took pictures with Jabba the Hut and hydrated before getting in our corrals. We were in the corrals for a good hour. On our way, Katlyn pointed out a shirt to me that said Finishing Dead Last > Not Finishing > Not Starting. I looked around in the corral and saw runners of all types of sizes and varieties. There was another woman close by that looked about my size and I heard her mention to her friends that it's her first 10K as well.

Corral Photo - We look tired!

We slowly moved forward as the race started in the upper corrals. I thought about the course and how much I wanted to make it to mile 4 - the last mile inside the theme parks. Mile 1- a boring path along a dark gravel road - would go quickly, and walking through the theme parks is a different mind game. I would be proud of myself if I got to mile 4. The fireworks were set, and off we went! It was an exhilarating first few minutes, and as I felt my shin splints start, I moved to the right side so I could slow down without getting in anyone's way--that was my huge mistake.

The first part of the race was slightly inclined and curved, and being on the right side made my foot nearly sideways. My shin splints at that point felt as though my legs burst into flames and I nearly had to hobble along the side. My first instinct: "Where are the medical bikes? I want OUT!". I didn't see any, so I continued to hobble along, practically walking right-together-left-together. I was embarrassed and ashamed. Who gets out on the first mile? But Katlyn had told me to not stop, to keep going, one foot in front of the other, and so I did. I made it to the first character meet and greet - R2D2 - and the attendants said he had about a 20 minute wait. I NEVER wait for characters during races, as I can't afford it with the pacing requirements, but my legs hurt so much, it was a great guise to stop. Once I stopped walking, my legs nearly buckled from the pain, and I almost fell over. I get shin splints often - trained or not trained - but these had to be the worst.

As I waited in line, the pain started to ease, and I thought I might be able to get a little further. I made it to the first mile marker, I was in Epcot. As I walked through the park, I took my time and stopped when I saw other people taking pictures and offered to be their photographer. Dammit, if I wasn't going to make my goal, I was going to be friendly and help other people.

Perfect shirt for this race. 

Once I got through Epcot, the shin splints started to cease. I was able to pick up my pace, but I had no idea how much time I had lost. In my head, I went back to my old goal - make it to mile 4. Mile 4 would mean going further than I had in any other race. It would mean not giving up until they told me I had to. Mile 4 was something I could live with. And gosh darnit, I made it to mile 4! I can't begin to describe that relief, the know that anything after that was an added bonus. But then I looked down at my shirt "I find your lack of faith disturbing" and I thought of all the people whose faces said "you can't do this" and I thought of Katlyn and Diana telling me I could. Then the person with the "Finishing Dead Last > Not Finishing > Not Starting" shirt passed me. Suddenly, I had to finish. It was essential.

Between Mile 4 and Mile 5 I saw the woman who was in my corral who looked like me. She looked like she was struggling as well. I caught up to her and told her "I started with you, we're doing so well! We've got this!" and she smiled and agreed "We got this!". That was my last added boost of adrenaline. I'm not sure how I got through those last 2 miles--all roads and 2 bus pickups ready to clear the course at a moment's notice--but seeing the finish line was one of those rare happy moments when you're surrounded by people, but at the same time you're in your own happy place.

That clearly didn't come across on camera.

My Face: "I hate everyone."

And so I survived. I conquered. I finished. And what was in my mind an added bonus, truly became everything. And the smile in my finisher photo, as I lift my medal to be sure my shirt was not blocked, is the result of realizing I proved everyone wrong, and that I would do it even better come November.