Jacked Up Feet

  I laid in the bed last night until 2 am, unable to sleep because of my jacked up feet. I was moments away from taking a hand saw and cutting my feet off at the ankles to end the pain.  Luckily, I snapped out of my sleep deprived hysteria and took some Ibuprofen instead. 

I have been training for a half marathon that is coming up in less than two weeks.  Ack!  I have been pounding out the miles day after day in less than stellar shoes.  Well, actually...the shoes were perfectly great running shoes until I trashed them on a muddy trail run.

I then tried to fix them by washing the mud out.  I used hot water in the washing machine...which melted the plasticky stuff in the lining of the shoes.  They shrunk up to warped and wacky junk shoes.  They poked my heels, lost the rubber support in the soles and pinched my toes. 

I was mad at myself for ruining my good shoes, so I decided to tough it out.  I would finish the marathon training and get through the half marathon before I replaced them.

In my stubbornness, I have acquired blisters on 6 out of 10 toes, I have gotten "black toenail" on two toes....one of which has already fallen off leaving the bare nail bed behind and the other hanging by a thread, and my feet ache after every single run.

Last night was the straw that ended the boycott on new shoes. 

As I lay in bed, with every... single.... beat.... of my heart pounding in my toes, I vowed that I would not go for a run again until I could replace the torturous shoes.  This was not a decision I made lightly.  I was horrified at the thought of replacing expensive shoes that are only a couple of months old.

Nevertheless, I am committed to running.

I have registered for the race.

I have paid the fee.

I have a hotel lined up with my gal pals.

I have made arrangements for the boys.

I have trained.

And trained.

And trained.

So, at 2am last night.... I made the decision to buy new shoes.

After school today, rain was falling....which meant that baseball games for the night were cancelled.  I made the 45 minute trek to the nearest (and best) running shoe store....The Trak Shak.

The running shoe specialist watched me walk toward him and away from him.  He examined my stride and measured my feet.  I am certain that he made a little gasp when he measured my foot at a whopping size 11.  Then he told me all I ever wanted to know about my feet.

Not only are my feet grotesquely large, but I also learned that I need extra "support".  I need this support because of my "overpronation in my stride" and because my "arch collapses when I strike the ground".

Good Heavens!  No wonder my feet have been hurting!

The specialist brought out three different shoes for me to try that were designed specifically for my kind of jacked up feet.  They even came in my honking big size!

I picked the Brooks Adrenaline GTS Running Shoes that are made with extra cushion and support.  They feel dreamy.

When I climbed into the car with my new shoes in hand, I texted Bradley to tell him all about my excitement of buying my new shoes.  I told him about the shoe specialist saying that I had an "overpronation and arch collapse" in my stride.

He sent back via text....

"I was thinking that myself, but I just didn't want to offend you by pointing out your overpronation.  I thought it might embarrass you."

Thanks, dear.

Hopefully, when I go for a run tomorrow in my new shoes and then collapse into bed, I will not feel the urge to dismember my jacked up feet.

Competitive Gene

  Is there a such thing as being too competitive?  Apparently so.  And..... I may be in trouble.  I found this article online in Glamour magazine. (Oh, yes it IS a very trustworthy source of health information...what do you mean questioning my sources?)  Anyway....here is a segment of the article....

Are you competitive? Would you label yourself as "aggressive" in terms of going after what you want? Here's the warning for people, our competitive nature may be slowly ... killing us.

Researchers who published a major study in Hypertension: Journal of the American Heart Association say that those who are most competitive are at increased risk for stroke and heart attack than folks who are more laid back.

The details: Italian researchers studied 5,614 Italians and found that those who scored highest for competitiveness on standard personality tests had a greater thickening of the neck arteries, an risk factor for heart attack and stroke.

Killing me??!!  Yikes!  That's harsh.

Thankfully, the article did go on to say that if your competitiveness is mostly geared toward your fitness and athletic competitions, that the competitiveness could in theory, be helpful instead of harmful.  The competitiveness gets dangerous when it spills over into friendships, your love life, and everyday tasks.  I think I may not die from being too competitive after all.

I have always known that I inherited my Dad's competitive gene.  All through grade school, I wanted to have the best grades.  In high school, I wanted to be the best softball player on the team....or even the county.  I always felt let down if I didn't get chosen for something or didn't win something. And I don't think that competitive tendency has disappeared over the years.  It still rears it's head up on occasion.

My competitive nature was in full force this past Saturday night.  I entered a unique night time trail run with two of my friends.

The idea of the run was that teams would compete out on the trails in the dark.  The event coordinators had hidden 12 books along the trails marked with reflective tape to be seen only in the dark.  Runners were to head out onto the trails wearing headlamps and run the trails in search of the hidden books.   When a hidden book was found, teams were instructed to tear out the page of the book that corresponded with their team number.  We were team #30, so we were to remove page number 30 from each book and bring it back to the finish line at the end.

Some hints to the books' locations were emailed to runners prior to the race and others were sent via text message during the race.  Prior to the start of the race, using the clues, we had determined that there was one book hidden on each of the trails that covered the mountain.  To collect all 12 books, our team would need to split up to cover all of the miles of the trails in the 3 1/2 hour time limit.

Our basic plan for the race was that I would cover the longer trails alone and my partners would cover some of the shorter, more challenging trails as a pair.  In the end, we hoped to find about half of the books each and meet back at the finish line as winners.

Our plan started out great.  I headed off on the first trail and within minutes found the first hidden book.  I ripped out page #30 and tucked it into my running belt.  I texted my team and alerted them that the first book was found.  I conquered the second trail, Buckeye Trail, and found book #2 almost as quickly.  I jogged on to my third trail, which looped around a wetlands area.  I was stumped a bit when looking for this book and ended up looping around the trail three times before finding book #3.  I moved on to Sandstone Ridge Trail which had some really steep inclines and grabbed book #4 at the top of the trail. 

On my way down this trail heading to my next trail is when I got the alert from my team that they had struggled to find their first book, but had finally located it.  We were now up to 5 books as a team.  I continued on to a long leg of my trail running and covered the Pipeline Trail, which was almost two miles round trip.  Then, Lizard Loop Trail, which was a mile long loop that I ended up running twice because I couldn't find the book the first time.  Locating the book on Lizard Loop was insane.  The book was hidden well off the trail and I had to cross a running stream to get to it.  I ran the rest of the night in shoes and socks saturated with mud, but I was determined to find the book for the team.

After all this trail running is when my competetiveness and determination really took over.  I really picked up my running pace and backtracked some of the previous trails to get to a new section of the mountain.  There were books hidden on The Crusher Trail and The Ridge and Valley Trail.  I looked at the trail map and realized that these were the most challenging trails on the mountain, but I was NOT going to let my team down.  I had books to find!

So I headed off on Crusher Trail and found the book fairly easily, despite the changes in elevation and the fact that I somehow ended up off the trail and was lost for a brief period of time.  I had now found 6 of the 12 books.  I had an hour left to return to the finish line.  I had one last trail to conquer....The Ridge and Valley Trail.  The trail map describes it like this.....

Ridge and Valley Trail (1.5 miles)

Our most demanding trail, it goes through 1000 feet of elevation change over its length. You will cross several small streambeds as you hike.

About 3/4 of the way through the Ridge and Valley Trail.....I thought I was going to die.  I was out of water in my water bottle.  My legs were ON FIRE from running the hills.  My body was exhausted.  I texted Bradley, who was at home with the boys, and told him.....

"I don't know if I will make it off this trail.  I haven't seen another human in forever.  I don't think I can make it back to the finish line. And I think I may even be lost or something.  This trail is sooo long."

But just as I was about to throw in the towel....I saw the faint glow of another person's headlamp.  The person ended up being the event photographer.  He snapped this picture of me as I was climbing yet another "Ridge" on the trail.

He had a thick Indian accent as he shouted...

"Hello, runner!  Are you OK runner?  I haven't seen any other peoples on this trail, runner.  I am take your picture, then I leave this trail.  Are you feel OK runner?  Yay, runner."

I have never been so happy to see another human as I was to see Suman the Indian at that moment.  He let me know that I wasn't lost in the the woods after all.  And I knew that I might make it to the book, get the page out, and get back to the finish line alive.

I continued running and finally got to the end where the most glorious book awaited me.  I cheerfully took the page and put it into my running belt.  I was more than elated to get to the end of the Ridge and Valley Trail to see that there was an alternative trail back to the finish line.  I think that if someone had told me that I would have to retrace my steps and run Ridge and Valley again, that I may have died right there on the spot.

I made it back to the finish line and my team mates arrived shortly after with the books they had found.  My legs were shaking like jello.  I was thirsty and hungry and exhausted, but I had had probably my best run ever.

I ended up covering close to 10 miles of trails in the dark and collected 7 of our team's 10 book pages.  Our collection of 10 hidden book pages was enough to win our team a 3rd place. 

For the past 3 days since the race, I have taken Ibuprofen every 4 hours to help with my aching muscles.  My legs have hurt so bad that I could barely walk.  I have never, ever been so sore from any exercise.

What did we get for this punishment to our bodies???

This medal.....

I know you are jealous.

And bragging rights for completing the race.

Was it worth it?

I don't know.

I'll let you know the answer to that when I am finally able to walk normally again without Ibuprofen.

I run

If You Have To Ask....

I know that I am suppose to be a "Mommy Blogger" and write about all the cute little things that my kids do, but over the last several years, running has become a part of who I am, so I will continue to include blogs about it.  I just can't leave out something that is so important to me. 

 

So anyway....if you are new to my blog, you may not know that I am currently training for my 2nd Half-Marathon.  It has been a challenge to squeeze training runs into my crazy busy life, but I have made time for it, and I am so glad that I have!

 

Today was President's Day...which meant a holiday from school...whoop whoop!  Since I didn't have to work, I was able to fit in a longer run.  The weather was absolutely perfect for running!  I was able to try out my new running skirt.  If you didn't read about my wardrobe malfunction with my last running skirt.....feel free to catch up on it HERE.

 

My new skirt worked out great this time and I felt sassy and girly while I was pounding out the miles.

 

And I like the white one better than my old black one anyway....so whoop whoop for my new skirt!

I was able to run 10.36 miles today and stayed on pace to beat my current personal half marathon time.  I was totally pumped about that!

I finished my run today sweaty, thirsty, dry lipped, achy, and with blisters on my toes and a toe nail that had pulled loose from my big toe......

...And I was all smiles!

I found this photo today and fell in love with the quote on it......

Running Wardrobe Malfunction

I was so psyched to pull out my favorite running skirt today.   Alabama weather is like Jekyll and Hyde.  Three days ago I ran in 30 something degree temperatures and was layered for warmth.  I finished the run wind burned and I made a bee line for the Vaseline for my chapped face when I got back inside my toasty warm house.  I was frozen to the core.  Running in freezing weather hurts.

Today, the weather was perfect for running....beautiful blue skies with 60 plus degree temperatures.  I am certainly a hot weather lovin' gal, so I was thrilled to exercise in the warm weather. 

 I rushed home after school and was so happy that it was finally warm enough to run in my running skirt.  I love running skirts because they add such a girlie flair to a sport that was once dominated by men.  I am always admiring the cute skirts of other gal runners when I am running in a crowd.  Mine, however, is several years old and just plain black. 

Sorry, I realize that the skirt is barely visible in this photo, but that's what happens when you try to take a photo of yourself with your cell phone while running.  Not quality photography here.

So anyway.....

The boys went next door to help my Dad work outside after school, so I took the opportunity to turn a short running day into a long one.

I decided today to just go run for about an hour, and not worry about the number of miles I ran. 

I have never, ever done that before in all my years of running.

I always head out with a mileage goal, but I liked the idea of just running however far I made it.

After only a couple of miles, I realized that my skirt was not cooperating like it always had in the past.

The undershorts were rubbing my legs and it started getting uncomfortable quickly.

I kept readjusting and pulling and tugging trying to fix the skirt, but it was getting worse by the minute.

I am not sure if the problem was that the skirt has gotten older and stretched out over the years and the undershorts were no longer holding tight to my skin, or if my thighs have gotten ....ummm...thicker....since the last time I wore the skirt.

I would like to believe that it was the skirt's fault.

After about 3 miles, the chaffing of my legs had gotten almost unbearable.

I had two viable options.

A.) Walk like a cowboy for a half mile home and call it quits.

B.) Trudge it home and make a speedy quick change out of the skirt and into some running pants.

I went with choice B.

I ran home, up the driveway, up the steps, changed in about 30 seconds, and ran out again....trying to break stride as little as possible......and kept running.

While I was running, I was thinking about how many little bitty things can negatively effect runs.

clothes rubbing

ill fitting jog bra

fatigue

shin splints

runner's diarrhea

blisters

wind burn

chapped lips

side stitches

runner's knee

dog tagging along

(Aww.....C'mon, Davy! Gross!

Do you really have to stop and do that every single mile?)

I have dealt with all of the above over the years, but each malady that I have dealt with is overshadowed by the joy I feel when the run is complete.

I ended up running 8.25 miles today, hardly ever checking the mileage.

I just kept running until I ran out of time and had to get home to go pick up the boys.

I ran for an hour and 20 minutes and it was all for me.

The whole hour. Just for me.

It was nice....

Despite the dog poo and the wardrobe malfunction.

Run To The Tree

This tree is exactly one mile from my back door.  If I run from my house to the tree and back, then I have completed two miles.  This morning, I ran to this tree... three times.

Two of my friends, Ronda and Autumn, ran a half marathon this morning and I was beside myself with excitement for them.  I was excited because I remember how awesome I felt when I ran my half marathon.  I have wanted that experience again ever since then.  But my busy life allowed me to make excuses and I fell short in the training area.  I was sad not to be running with them.

I decided that I would run in a shorter distance today at a race that I have run before.  It's called The Vulcan 10k, which is 6.2 miles.  It would at least be something. It's no half marathon, but it's a distance I could handle right now while I am building back up to half marathon distance.

But that plan didn't work out either.  Bradley had to work and my duties as a Mom wouldn't allow me to trek an hour away dragging the kids with me without Bradley.

So...I just ran at home.  Which sounds lame compared to a "real race".  As it turned out....It wasn't lame at all.  It was lovely.  On my third trip to the tree, I became overwhelmed with love for the little path I have run so many times.  I am familiar with each pot hole.  I know the dangerous curves. I could run it in the dead of night with my eyes closed, but I am glad I don't have to.  I enjoy what I see on my runs to the tree and back.

I turn out my driveway and run down this little road. I rode my bike on this road as a kid. I rode the school bus down the road to arrive home in the afternoons. This is my road. It leads me out on my runs and always leads me home again.

Just after I turn off my road, I can see this boulder peeking at me. It marks the half mile point.

I pass my little church every time I run. I attend the most beautiful little country church in the world. The building is lovely, but the people.....the people inside are gorgoeus!

Just past the church, I arrive at my tree. The tree sits on the side of the road on the edge of a pasture. The owner of this tree has no idea that I have a relationship with their tree. I am so in love with it every time I see it. It always marks another completed mile.

The tree is my turnaround point. I head back toward my house and retrace my steps. This little stretch of road is one of my favorites. From this direction, it is a gentle downhill slope. Of course, I want to curse it when I am heading uphill toward the tree, because it becomes less gentle and more brutal.

I see lots of this on the roadside. I get annoyed by it. I apparently have a lot of alchohol loving neighbors who drink this flavor. Stinkin Litter Bugs!

Except for seeing the litter....I am happy when I run. I get a peacefulness over me. I can clear my head of stress. I feel refreshed.

I arrive back at my driveway, ready to turn around and run to the tree again.

Rise and Shine

  My Mom used to say this to us when we were growing up and it was time for us to get up and get going.  She also said, "Up and at 'em!".  Although, I don't usually use either of these terms when I wake up the boys, I am happy that they do them both.

  I am beside myself with pride that the boys would voluntarily rise out of the bed on a Saturday morning at 6:45 to shine like this......

I have decided that my Mom was imparting such wisdom on me each morning when she woke me up. 

Each day, if we all could just simply Rise and Shine, we would make our little world so much brighter.  Shine at work.  Shine at exercise.  Shine as a Mom.  Shine in music.  Shine by saying something kind.  Shine by helping someone in need.  Shine by setting a good example.  Just shine.

I am thankful that on this day, my boys chose to rise and shine.

Dearest Reader,
  I made it all the way to #9 on Top Mommy Blogs because of your awesome votes.  In the last few days, I have dropped down to #11.  BooHoo.  Please click the banner below to push me back into he Top 10.

 Thank you, kindly.
Jennifer

Healthy Mommyhood Is Hard

  Let me start by saying that I believe that we, as a Nation, are doing a totally C..R..A..P..P..Y (I am a Mom, I have to spell out curse words) job teaching our children how to live a healthy lifestyle.  We feed our kids processed foods because it is waaaaay easier than the fresh stuff.  We grab fat ladened fast food on our way to ball practices.  We reward our kids at birthdays and Christmas with those exercise busters known as video games.  We pile up in front of the TV for "family time". And we, in general, don't model good exercise habits.

  I am guilty of ALL of these things.  Not all the time, but definitely guilty. I have been more guilty of these things lately. I do try to keep health in mind when choosing a meal for my family, but so often, we are in a mad dash to get to the next sporting event, that we choose the fatty route. It's just easier.  There is no other word for it.

  I also try to encourage good exercise habits.  We have very strict video game rules at our house.  We sign up for every sport possible to keep the kids active and a part of a team.  And we encourage play at home.  Football, trampoline, hiking, basketball....anything.  Just play something active! This is the one part of healthy living that my boys seem to do naturally.

But lately, my own personal model has been horrendous!  My personal exercise program has been basically nonexistent.  I don't know where my motivation went over the last couple of months, but I have let every excuse in the book interfere with my personal jogging routine.  Granted, most of my excuses involve a lack of time, which is a huge hurdle for me.  But they are excuses, nonetheless.

This is going on no more, I tell ya. Times, they are a changin'.  I am back in the saddle again.  My shoes are laced and I am not going to let my kids see me be a sloth.

I must admit that part of my motivation has returned because of this.....

I did not appreciate the number I found on it Saturday morning. 

But it's more than just the number.  It's how I feel when I am committed to an exercise program. I am much more vibrant at school with my class.  I am perkier at home. I sleep more soundly at night....without the aid of tylenol pm at midnight.  My skin looks better.  I feel more beautiful....or at least not like Fatty McFat. My clothes fit better ...um fit.  Even my guts work better for heaven's sake! Why would I ever stop running?

Because it's easier not to run.

Well, the law is laid down.  I will not take the easy route again.

I started back with my healthy choices yesterday.  I got up yesterday before church and ran 3 miles and it felt great!  We had Baked Tilapia for dinner along with baked sweet potatoes and steamed corn.  The boys gave it rave reviews and were asking for seconds.  They were thrilled to be served some of their favorite foods again.

Today, after school, I ran 2 miles. It didn't go quite as well as yesterday's run. I chose to run at school because the boys can play with the other teacher's kids while I finish my run.  My run was cut short, though. 

The track looks unassuming enough, right?

My running was cut short because of the BAZILLION gnats or flies or whatever was swarming the area.  What? Bazillion is not a real word?  Yeah right.  You run it and you will agree.  There are definitely a bazillion.  I finished with gnats all in my eyes, covering my shirt, up my nose, down my throat and all in my hair.   Again, not the easy route.  It would be much easier to go home and watch tv.

 There are other things that discourage exercise that I will have to overcome.  For instance, the correct gear.  I really need some new good running shoes.  These are currently the only shoes I have to run in.

My pinky toe can poke all the way through that hole.  There is another one just like it on the other shoe.  This is not the correct gear.

Today, as I drove home, it would have been much easier to pick up a pizza.  But, instead, I have chicken on the grill and fresh carrots and cabbage steaming.  Sawyer saw it and said, "Cabbage, my favorite!"  And Carter was equally as excited by the carrots. 

I feel good to be back on the healthy living bandwagon.  I wish I had never jumped off.  I am ready to conquer miles and miles of running.  I am ready to prepare delicious and healthy meals for my family. 

I am willing to take the time to cook healthy meals. 

To suffer through the junky shoes until I can get more.

I am willing to run through gnats, rain, or snow....well, maybe not snow.

 I am willing to do whatever it takes to experience moments like this again...

In this moment, I had just tackled a gigantic hill in a half marathon.  A hill that I really, really wanted to walk.  But didn't. 

My family was there at the top to give me a big cheer. 

At that moment, I was in love with my cheerleader family.  I loved my legs for not giving up.  I loved my lungs for hanging in there.

This was one of those amazing moments I live for. 

I want that moment again.

It will be hard, but totally worth it.

Encouragement that bordered on child abuse

 

  This past weekend, our whole gang entered a 5k race.  All five of us.  It was a dream come true for me.  All of my favorite people running 3.1 miles together. Well, actually, we started together and then found each other again at the finish line, but you get the idea.  It was probably not so much a dream come true for Bradley, but he endured and was a good sport about it.

  We started the race shoulder to shoulder with 1,300 other racers.  Men, women, children, dogs and strollers.  There were fast runners, who were there to actually try to win, and there were other runners, like us, who were there to try to give a healthy lifestyle a little nudge.

   My kids are pretty fit. They get lots of excercise from all the sports they play and from the playing they do after school. They aren't really video "gamers", because I won't let them be. I think playing outside is good for their body and their brains. So running is not super difficult for them.

    Being a jogger myself, I was loving the fact that they were all so excited to run in the 5K. Carter even wanted to run earlier in the week to practice. I headed out the door to run and asked, "Does anybody wanna go run with me?" Carter grabbed his tennis shoes and we headed out the door together. Everything about the practice run that day was perfect. It was at the end of the day, and we had a beautiful view of the sunset. It was spectacular enough that even Carter noticed. He also noticed the cows in the pasture, the houses, the fences, the bats flying overhead and even the grass. He talked absolutely nonstop for the entire two miles we ran. He wasn't tired. He wasn't winded. He didn't complain. He was perfectly content to run. We finished the run and I was certain that I had just discovered my own little 6 year old distance runner. I was beaming with pride that day.

Then race day came. It all changed.

  When the race began and we crossed the start line, I saw my two oldest whiz past me and Carter.  I clicked a quick photo with my phone and I didn't see them again until the end of the race. They both performed spectacularly.  They were proud that they ran the whole 3 miles and finished with fantastic times!

 

  Carter wasn't as confident about running the race without me, so I stayed by his side to cheer him on.  I was confident that he could jog at least 2 miles of it, since he had already done that a week before.  We set out.  The crowd was electric.  Everyone jostled for a place closer to the front.  Except not Carter.  We started out in a good groove.  I chatted with Carter about how much fun it was to be running with him.  We jogged at a steady pace for about half a mile.  Then he stopped.

  Whoa.  What?  A half a mile?  "What's wrong, Carter?  Why are you stopping?"

"I need a rest."

"Nah, C'mon.  You ran much farther than this at home.  Let's keep going!"  I started to jog again, but Carter continued to just walk.  Oh dear.  This was going to be a long 3 miles.  I wouldn't have really even cared, except that I had two other kids who had blown past us from the beginning and would be finishing the race in a crowd of 1000 other runners.  I was counting on Carter not being far behind them.  I counted wrong.

  He eventually started jogging again, but each time he jogged, he walked again shortly after he started jogging.  I tried every motivation tactic possible to try to get him to jog more, but it wasn't working.  I was getting a wee bit frustrated at him because he wasn't even trying to run. He could've run more if he had so desired.  The mood wasn't striking him one bit to run.  And when he walked, it was at a turtle's pace.  Carter has had the nickname "Turtle" in our family since he was barely walking.  He has always done everthing slow.  He dresses slow.  Walks slow. Eats slow.  Brushes his teeth slow.  Everything is slooooooow with him.  But to race slow!  For the love of Pete!

  After about a mile and a half, when he started to walk, I grabbed his hand and tried to get him to jog with me while I was holding his hand.  I was always about a step ahead of him and I felt like I was dragging him.  Other adults were running all around us.  I keep looking at them smiling, wondering if they were thinking, "Awww....what a cute little mommy and son.  Holding hands jogging."  Or could they tell the truth and were thinking...."Geez.  That Mom is trying to force her kid to run!  What a loser of a Mother."

  At the two mile mark, I had all but given up with the encouragement.  I finally figured...what the heck?  He obviously isn't gonna run.  I might as well go with the flow and walk whenenver he wants.  I even had him completely stop during the race at the two mile mark and I took his picture with the mile marker sign. 

A fellow runner saw me do this and asked if I wanted to get my picture made with him.  By all means.  It's not like we are in a RACE!  So....we stopped.  In the middle of the street.  In the middle of a race.  And posed for a photo.

  I had never run in a race so casually before.  I have never really tried to win one, but I am always trying to better my time and finish as fast as possible.  Racing without a care in the world was new to me.  It made my blood boil at first, but after dragging a 6 year old for 2 miles, the racing mindset ended.  It was my favorite race ever.  I ran the worst 5k time of my life.  I ran it dragging a 6 year old.  I finished it alongside my little laid back "turtle".  I finished it smiling.