There was a time in my life when I looked forward to and planned for Halloween. Actually, there were probably 23 years of that...I'm subtracting the first few years of my life because I'm sure I had no clue what Halloween was, and the last 2 years of my life, when I've grown to hate it. Last year was the beginning of the end...I was dating a real great guy at the time (insert sarcasm) who was 26 years old and acted as though he was 18. I believe we were in a fight about how I wanted to spend it with my new friends, and he wanted no part of that. I ended up boycotting the holiday and staying in. Bad taste in my mouth. Jump to this year...I would like to say that my sense of self and sense of style has changed a bit, as I have come to the realization that less is not always more on my SLIGHTLY less than perfect body and that going out on Halloween is in short, a sh!tshow. When my friend showed me a picture of a costume a group of us were to dress up in, I just could not agree to it. It was low cut (which is actually to my advantage) and very tight (so not to my advantage). I declined the group costume invitation but obviously agreed to go out with them last night for a birthday/ Halloween celebration. I ended up dressing up in all black and said I was mourning the demise of the Florida Gator football team. I don't think anyone got it...surprising, I know. Anyways, I made it to midnight and left the bar of slutty wish-I-had-their-body cats, supermen who only wished they had six packs, and way too many LMFAO group members to walk home alone. Don't worry...I closely followed a group of female crayons back to my apartment so that no one would figure out I was actually alone. Oh the humiliation...
I figured that would be the fate of my Halloween weekend, but at least I tried. What I looked forward to most happened yesterday morning at 8:30 AM, long before the Party Rockers awoke. A few months ago, I signed up for the Monster Dash Half Marathon. It would be my first race since the Boston Marathon and a measuring stick for my training leading up to January's Disney Marathon. Many people dressed up for this as well. I was in the port-potty line behind some Q-tips, and ran next to a leopard and Superwoman for a large majority of the race. Typically, I didn't adorn a costume, but I did sport an orange shirt and my signature knee high socks (w/ the feet cut out) as arm warmers. Usually they look ridic, but yesterday no one noticed them.
My thoughts going into this race: I aimed to break 1:40 without pushing it too hard. I did that 2 years ago leading up to Boston and really aggravated an injury. So I lined up with the 1:40 pace group (7:38 min/ mile). As a side note, I'm a huge advocate of pace groups...they keep me conservative in the early part of the race when I usually get anxious about all the slower people I have to weave in and out of because they don't understand how races work. Usually I end up leaving the pace group at some point because I end up feeling pretty good and convince myself I can go faster to the finish. In short, pace groups help me achieve my signature negative split racing style. It was about 35 degrees at the start, and when the gun went off, I felt like we were sprinting. I didn't really do much of a warm up, and I had a lot of trouble getting into the groove. Couple that with our pace leader who had WAY too much enthusiasm and constantly veered off to high five spectators. I'm all for having fun during races, but I guess I was just NOT in the mood today. I'm assuming he kept our pace pretty even, although there were some points I felt like we were sprinting and others barely shuffling along. Around mile 8, I started feeling a pretty sharp pain in the top of my foot. I told myself that today I probably shouldn't attempt to pick the pace up at the end for fear of a legit injury. I don't know if I tuned out the pain or if it really went away, but at a water stop just before mile 10, I lost the pace group and didn't turn back. I saw the finish line and clock for the 10 mile finishers and saw 1:14 on the clock. At that point, I figured I was pretty close to a PR (1:37:15 is my best time and the time I got injured at 2 years ago), so I might as well keep trucking to the finish. I passed a referee, a girl dressed in some sort of 80s gear, lots of tutus, and a fully suited up Gumby (thank goodness because I would've beat myself up over that one) to finish with a time of 1:37:57 and 11th in my age group. My last 5k was probably slightly better than 23 mins. Of course I would've liked a PR, but I'm certainly pleased with my performance, considering I felt like crap for 10 miles. I also think I'm at a pretty good place 10 weeks out from Disney...
So until I have kids, which my mom tells me will reignite my love for Halloween, I think I've found a new tradition that will get me looking forward to it every year. Who knows, maybe next year I'll wear some cat ears.
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