After my comically crap showing at the Squantum 5 last week, I was ready to redeem myself. (Funny, I think I may have written that line before.) I figured a nice, easy 4K ought to do the trick. I’ve got this 5K thing down (sort of), so a 4K should be a piece of cake. Right?
In the words of the running gods: HA!
Best race sign ever.
I’m never getting up.
The occasion of my latest display of badness was the 4K on the 4th (which confused me by not actually being on the fourth) in Concord, NH. With the eastern states in the grip of a heatwave, it was a helluva hot morning for a run. Whipping up some pre-race bacon and eggs on the hood of our car wouldn’t have been out of the question.
I’ve made no secret of the fact that I am a terrible runner in hot weather (to the point where you’re all probably wishing I would shut the hell up about it and go bloviate about Lululemon or something). I know I am not alone in this affliction. But looking around after this weekend’s 4K was over, I couldn’t see anyone else who had been reduced to a pathetic, quivering, jelly-legged wreck (see photo).
Maybe they were just able to hide it much better than me … Continue reading
The setting doesn't get more Australian than this. The start of the Brooks Spring Into Shape Sydney Series Race 2, in Parramatta Park.
When I was in high school, some (ahem) years ago, I got a zero on my report card for failing – twice – to run the mandatory cross country (I can’t recall the precise distance; it was a few kilometers masquerading as an eternity. All I know is I had to get picked up in a car). For someone who prided herself on doing well in school, this epic fail was unacceptable. I never quite got over it.
So it was with mixed feelings that I returned to the site of my shame – Parramatta Park, in Sydney’s western suburbs – to run one half of the Brooks Spring Into Shape Series, benefiting the Heart Foundation.
But this time I was ready. No knee-length skirt and sensible brown shoes for me (I was forced to run my second attempt in my Catholic school uniform. Not that it really mattered; I failed wearing sneakers too). No, this time I had eight 5Ks under my belt, a pair of brilliant shorts and an iPhone. And it was only a 4K. I was going to triumph.
In your face, Parramatta Park!