Monday, February 28, 2011

2011 (feeling) Green Hope (I don't puke) 5K





Saturday morning started with Shannon dry heaving in the bathroom.
It's normal for people to puke at the end of a 5K, but usually not before the race even begins.

It was 15 minutes before the race started, so I got our bibs and hurried down to the bathrooms by the track at the high school.
"Are you OK? You really don't have to run this if you're sick"
Shannon can be suborn though, "No! I did this to myself, I am going to do it"

The night before we had gone out to celebrate the sale of Shannon's house with beer and pizza. Normally Shannon does not drink much, because half of a light beer will get her drunk. But trying to sell the house had been a long and painful ordeal, and she wanted to party.

But the pizza place only had IPAs on draft, too bitter for Shannon.
"Have the barley wine", our friend Lori recommended, "it's sweet".

It's also very potent, because one glass left her with a bad hangover. "I can feel the alcohol seeping out of my pores" she moaned.

But she lined up with me at the start of the Green Hope 5K anyway. This was race was our benchmark test going into the Umstead Marathon this Saturday. We did this same 5K the week before Umstead last year, so I thought we could use it set our goals for the marathon this year.

I did not feel recovered from Uwharrie, but I was still hoping to at least match my time from last year.
Shannon was just hoping to make it the whole way without throwing up.

The gun went off and I was surprised to feel pretty good. Our friend Tim Gautreau jumped out in front and was never challenged, winning the race despite being in a boot for the last few weeks.

I paced myself with my Garmin, keeping it just under a 6 and staying just behind 3rd. But at the mile 2 mile marker, I realized the watch was off and I was 12 seconds behind schedule.
The last mile is a nice downhill, finishing on a track, so I pushed as hard as I could.

Coming around the last turn, I began to feel green myself, with the contents of my stomach roiling up. The clock was already at 18:45, and I had missed my goal by a long way so I decided to retain my breakfast and jog it in. I ended up 26 seconds slower than last year, which is not a good sign for Umstead.

Shannon wasn't far behind.
"How was it? Did you get sick?", I asked
"No! I felt great. 21:14, 20 seconds faster than last year!"

Crap. Obviously I did not drink enough. Further proof that hangovers make you faster.


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