Atalanta's Victory Run 5 Mile

Each year on Mothers' Day, my local running club hosts a women-only race. Similar to the Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Day, it draws both runners and non-runners alike. Today's event, while technically for girls only, it's not unusual to see a boy in a wig line up next to his mom. He won't show up in the results, but he gets to celebrate the day alongside her.

Families can compete in categories of two, three or four generations. I always feel a little sad that my mom will never be able to share this with me because she's two thousand miles away, but a special race reserved just for all of my favorite club ladies really helps make up for it.

My gal pals and their moms. Rachel's mom adopted me for the day. :) Kristal M, photo.

Y. Kim, SRRC photo.

I look down at the timing mat spread across the ground at my feet. I've never been this close to the front of the pack in a chip timed race. Never ever. I don't know why, but when I toe a starting line, I have trouble picturing myself ahead of more and more people. Some days, I still think I'm that solid-mid-back pack girl.

Y. Kim, SRRC photo.

Unlike last weekend's ten kilometer race, I have a decent idea of where my pace should be. Since the McMillan calculator seems to predict my marathon vs. half marathon races well, I've always relied on that for comparison. My 10K time still predicts slower times than my PRs at longer races, but I assume that its predicted time for five miles will be pretty accurate. Goal time: 35:38, 7:08/mi.

The countdown begins and suddenly we're off. With nobody out ahead of me to swerve around, I start off way too fast, keeping pace with some Humboldt Roller Derby girls. Once nearly the entire packs drops off, I survey the competition. Tami and Kristal are up ahead. They always beat me handily. I know I can't hang with them so when I'm still not far behind after the half mile mark, I make sure to slow it down a little bit.

Mile 1: 6:56

Since the very beginning of the race, I've sensed someone tucked in just off my right shoulder. As I round another turn, I look back to see who it is. I'm not surprised at all to see that it's Laura. This year, we've taken turns beating one another. It's been nice having female competition lately, especially someone who is not in my age group, hehe.

Cute calf, taken on Friday afternoon.

The race course makes a few more turns before we reach a long straightaway through farmland. The road is broken and I notice myself weaving around trying to find the best path through the potholes so I don't have to spend as much energy focused on the roadway. Laura is still there.

Mile 2: 7:16

Now that we're out in the open, cattle grazing on both sides in great green pastures, I realize the headwind. Laura mirrors my zigzags. She's so close that I can hear her breathing. I slow to let her take the lead. She slows too. I can feel my lungs tighten up. Wind triggers my asthma and I can feel myself struggling. I try to speed up, angry that she's making me do all the work. She follows.

Arghhh. Interestingly enough, Matt has a guy who does this to him too. Once the guy out-kicked him for the win. He was not pleased. I'm determined to shake Laura. She is not going to beat me today. I round another corner and now the wind is at my back.

Mile 3: 7:16

Suddenly the breathing right behind me stops. I can't tell if it's because of the change in wind direction that I can't hear it or because she's dropped back. Either way, I've just spotted a roller derby skater up ahead. I don't know if they were assigned to help push us along or if she senses my desperate need for company herself, but she drops back to let me catch up.

Mile 3, taken Friday afternoon. Rachel and I wore the same shirt by accident. It's weird how often this happens.

I know that I'll never be able to pass up a roller skater, but I tell myself I can catch her. I pick up the pace, she pulls ahead more. It's a wonderful game of cat and mouse and I'm so very happy to finally have someone up ahead to push me. I fixate on her jersey, amused by her derby name, Peaches N'Scream.

Mile 4: 7:07

The course merges into a large pack of two milers. Just as it is when we lap people in the Turkey Trot, all of them are walking, focusing more on their family outing than the fact that people who are racing for time are behind them. I had mentally prepared myself for this inevitability, but to my surprise, my roller derby escort is parting the pack straight down the middle. "Runner coming through!" she hollers out. We make the same turns as we had in the beginning of the race. I'm still right behind my pacer girl. When we reach the final straightaway, she turns back and engages with me for the first time, "You're doing great! Almost done!" Thanks Peaches!

Y. Kim, SRRC photo.

The world existing outside of my head has dropped away. All I see is the finish arch. It's still pretty far away. My lungs and legs are on fire and all I can think about is stopping. You can stop at the arch. Get there soon! There's a frantic sharpness to the voice in my head. Go!

The last hundred yards is uphill and I can feel my form collapsing beneath me. All I can do is hang on.

Mile 5: 6:49

Y. Kim, SRRC photo.

35:24
7:04/mi. 
3rd place overall, 1st place F30-34

I pause my watch, doubled over as I catch my breath. A few moments later, I finally get the chance to look down at it. Not only have I knocked ninety seconds from my previous PR (36:52), I've beaten the scary goal McMillan set for me.

Top 3 ladies. Tami B. photo.

As Tami's daughter snaps our picture, it finally dawns on me that I just finished in third place. Over the last year, these two ladies have become so fast it makes me wonder if there really has to be an age-related slowdown. Kristal keeps getting faster and faster and Tami recently broke a marathon PR she set twenty years ago. They're perfect examples of what one can accomplish through hard work and grit. Maybe someday I'll finally be able to keep up with them!

Up next: Summertime goals.