3rd Place!

Well it finally happened.  For a guy who loves his deep slumbers as much as I do,  I managed to some how convince myself that getting up ridiculously early on another Saturday to trade the pajama's for a race bib was a good idea.  This time though, in a most unexpected way it paid off big time.

Ever since getting into races... No let me back it up a little bit more.  I don't run for speed or first place finishes and have excepted the fact that "1st Place!" will probably never be a title of my blog posts.  I run for peace of mind, my health, and that awesome feeling of accomplishment you get when you get to where you're going and did what you came do.  The mythical runners high doesn't hurt either.  BUT.  As a runner you do focus on the numbers with a dogged obsession.  You can't help worrying about speed, finishing times, and from the very first race I wondered what it would be like to make a podium finish.   Finally on Saturday at the Jingle Bells 5k I got to experience a podium finish: 3rd place in my age group and it was cool!  Kinda...

Yes I got 3rd and that feeling couldn't have been better minus the nausea I always have after sprinting, but that doesn't really tell the whole story either.  After only 3 weeks of training pulling a 27:04 wasn't my fastest 5k nor did I expect it to be.  But I did reach my goal of sub-28 and I managed to race by the high schooler at the end that I had targeted around mile 2.  Sure time is important and hitting a goal is one of the best feelings in the world, but blasting by the person you've gone back and forth with in a race the whole time is that much sweeter.  

So although it was a good race, someone capitalized on my lack of training:  my dad.  At two miles after a quick 8:30 miler I knew I couldn't keep it up he managed to pull ahead.  At first by only a few feet, but before I knew it he was far ahead rounding the bend, out of sight, and I was eating his dust. To be clear he is in marathon shape, but he's never beaten me in a short distance race before so with a heavy heart and a stiff upper lip I tip my hat to him and say well done.

Foot races are a funny thing.  They're kinda competitive but more cooperative and fun.  You're there to have a good time and enjoy the race, but if you suck and drop the ball the fun flies right out the window pretty quickly.  I got 3rd place in my age division, but lost to my dad by over a minute who finished 12th in his but won best costume for his creepy Santa.  You can try to ignore the clock, but at the end of the day its gonna getcha no matter your reasons for running.  As my favorite artist Dave Matthews says "funny the way it is."

Not sure when my next race will be, and pretty sure I'll be taking some time to hopefully get my legs a lot stronger.  My goals for this year are clear though: Quicker 5k's then this, back to consistently beating my dad, at least one triathlon which I've never done before, a couple half-marathons, and obviously the big one:  The Buffalo Marathon.  Time goal for that one:  tell you another time.