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The Time I Learned Chef Boyardee & Beer is Not an Appropriate Pre-Race Dinner


Sure this seems really obvious to me now, but I pretty much epitomize the saying “Hindsight is 20-20.”

I shit you not, this is what I ate for dinner Friday night.

I really thought the Sunset House 5K was going to be huge for me. I also thought Beanie Babies were going to make me rich. And that dachshund was pronounced “dash hound” and people who pronounced it the correct way were just being pretentious pricks. In summation, I am a box of stupids and therefore should not have been disappointed in how Saturday morning turned out.

It wasn’t that anything too crazy happened–like my leg fell off or I soiled my Nike Tempo Shorts. It was just a bad race. It started out un-bad but I don’t know if it was the heat, the ridiculous amount of turns on the course, or the authentic Italian dinner that suddenly turned “un-bad” to “very bad.” I banged out my first mile in a 7:04 and needed to just lock in. Unfortunately, my legs had other plans. At the halfway point I felt insanely slow, like I was running though molasses. I couldn’t turn my legs over, and I hit mile two in 7:37–a huge (understatement) drop-off from my first split.

I would describe the rest of the race as a “Death March/Pity Party.” I decided I hated running. I decided I would never run again. I decided I was definitely not going trail running with My The Very Good Run Fast Shoppe Bestie Monday morning because I should never run in public where people could see me ever in my whole life ever again ever. Even if I was being chased by a puma. If I was being chased by a puma it would just be my turn to die. Because I was never running again. I decided that.

Yet, as slow I was going for that last 1.1 miles, I was passing a lot of people. Everyone around me seemed to grind to a halt. One girl even stopped and started walking. Maybe it wasn’t just me? …Nah, I still hated running. And I hated running all the way to the finish line. My official time was a 23:50 which, honestly, is not a bad time. It’s just not what I wanted to do. I wanted to go sub-23:00 and in the world of 5Ks 0:51 is a big chunk of time.

Post-race pic with my soccer star!

My nemesis Irony then added a twist to my quit-this-shit plans. Because the race was SO close to my house I ran there. This meant I had to run home and I wouldn’t be able to never run again for 12 more minutes. But the second I got home I sent a slightly exaggerated very true non-fiction email to Calves Sarah and Male Coworker, who is now unofficially/officially coaching Calves Sarah and I so I will henceforth refer to him as Coach Male Coworker, that read:

“Um, after imploding at the race today, I’m quitting running in favor of something I suck less at.”

This made Coach Male Coworker call and give me a very lengthy pep talk–although it probably wouldn’t have been quite so lengthy if he hadn’t laughed at my Chef Boyardee dinner for a solid 7 minutes. I was told I could NOT quit running and then I think he called me a tapir. That part of the conversation was a little unclear.


So I didn’t quit running…yet. I logged 9 miles on Sunday (my longest run in over 5 and 1/2 months!) and did some humid trail miles with Calves Sarah and My The Very Good Run Fast Shoppe Bestie yesterday morning. My hip is unhappy with me this morning, but–for now–I’m still in the game.

Sunset House 5K
Time 23:50
Pace 7:32
Splits 7:04, 7:37, 7:57, 1:12
Age Group 1 of 14
Gender 6 of 134
Overall 40 of 272

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