Once upon a Saturday

I ran a little race.

My first official race post baby.   

I probably shouldn't have, because late Thursday night the stomach flu hit me, and kept on through Friday.  

But I was really looking forward to it, had a friend who I knew I could keep pace with to run with me,

(My cute friend Ashley)

 and dangit I paid for the entry fee and I am cheap enough that I will get my entry fee's worth-stomach flu be darned. 

 Ironically it was the Love Your Body 10k/5k race.

Off to the race, baby in tow.

I promised Aaron Sam would be good and sleep through the whole run.  Thank goodness he made good on that for me, since Aaron is still in a sling from his shoulder surgery and has only his left arm (he's right handed).  That could have been awkward.  

This was the first time I've run a 10k event.  It was a beautiful course that wound through the Thanksgiving Point gardens (beautiful but hilly!), and was an all women event.  I have a 10k out and back (from my house) that I love to run, so I had a pretty good idea in my head of the time I wanted to hit, and when I fall into my groove on that distance.  

My pre-sick goal was to finish in an hour flat, but I sure would have loved it to cross the finish line before the clock read 1:00:00.  

Had I not been sick, I think I could have done it.  

Unfortunately, this is how I felt for almost the whole run:

(yes, I realize how unflattering that photo is.  Still, pretty accurate.)

My official finish time was 1:05:51.  

Not what I had hoped for, but considering the circumstances, I'm ok with that.  

(the course was also a tad bit longer, my Garmin reading 6.45 at the finish)

The atmosphere of a race really is a lot of fun, and this was the second time I have done an all women race-the first being my first Triathlon last year.  It's a funny thing; sometimes finishing an event can be kind of emotional.  It just feels so good to accomplish crossing that finish line.  It was neat to be milling around in the herd of women beyond the finish line and see a handful of criers, knowing that they were proud of what they had done that morning.   

(no, despite the fact that I am a total boob, I did not cry.  I was too busy being thankful I hadn't puked.  I did almost cry after my first Tri, and I'm sure once I knock a marathon off my list I will then too.)

There were a handful of other people we knew at the race, and it was fun to see other friends there. 

This is Sherri, who has been friends with my husband since high school:

No, she usually doesn't look that pained.  I'm thinking I must have stunk more than I realized?  Hey good sweat means good run.

Next year I would love to rope a whole group of women into running it (Mom, Kel, you've been warned), and getting matching shirts so it's easy to spot our whole group and cheer each other on.   

Also next time I will wear a cuter headband, as I didn't realize just how much this one makes me look like a man.

Or a pirate.  Argh!!  

Methinks the polkadots would be less manly?  or at least less piratey...

Race location: 2 thumbs up

Running while sick: not so much

Paying for running while sick with a violent return of said stomach flu 12 hours later:  The suck.  Big time.  

The only upside to having the stomach flu: dropping 4 of those pesky pregnancy pounds still hanging around.

The best husband in the world:  Mine.  Who was up with me last night while I was sick, seeing if there was anything he could do for me, rubbing my back (with his functional left hand), and offering to hold back my hair.  Who while in a pain-med induced nap this afternoon while talking in his sleep was saying "I'm so sorry you're sick....are you sure I can't do anything to help you?  Can I hold your hair back?  I feel so bad that I can't make you feel better..."  Apparently living through Saturday night once wasn't enough so he re-visited it in his dream.  Poor guy.