The door flies open and all I hear from under my blanket is my dad say "race time". All I do is reply with a grunt and roll off the bed and stare at the ceiling and ask myself why that heck am I doing this. Like everyone night before any race not matter the size or importance I had a restless night with my mind buzzing about the race. By the time I pull myself off the ground I smell that sweet sweet smell of coffee coming from the kitchen. No one truly loves waking up at 4 a.m. but coffee can make it some what better. With my cup of coffee in one hand and my pre-race nutrition in the other I sat on my bed pondering about the next few hours ahead of me. With a few more grunts I get up and leave with my older brother (support) and my dad (who is also running). And of course the first thing I do when I get in the car is throw on some dub step to get the blood flowing.
The next hour or so fly by with the many trips to the port-a-potties and the nice warm up before the start line up. With the not so bad sound track blaring I start to enter my pre-race hyper concentration. Yes I know you are probably like, wait hold on pre-race hyper concentration, but yes that is how I am before a race. I do not like standing at a starting line all serious face and what not. I am there to have fun and enjoy what I love doing and that is running. Before a race you will find me jumping around dancing and singing just having a good time. Around 6:45 a.m. the first wave went off then the serious face came on as my hand rested on my watch and I got into my starting position. After that the next one hour twenty-six minutes became a blur in my life full of pain and praying. Everyone two miles I took on water and on the sixth mile I took on my nutrition which is simply a GU gel. With my lovely Stinson Hoka One One shoes I still felt fresh on my feet allowing me to still have fun while I ran with the spectators and my fellow racers as I ran by them. Around the seventh mile that is when my body felt like it was going down hill. Every mile seemed to be getting longer and longer and my knee seemed to hurt more and more. But I kept my mind in the game focusing only on form, breathing, and my pace. Right around mile nine is when I finally hit my runners high were all the pain just left me and it felt like I was floating. All I was thinking about was the next group or lone runner struggling ahead of me as I felt fresh in the last three miles of the run. Then that moment when you think your on the final stretch so you pick up you pace then realize it is not the final stretch so you get back into your pace and everyone around you is looking at you like you are insane. I finally got to the final stretch and I always seem to have a little something left to push the sprint in against those people trying to make up one or two spots in the last 200 meters. Crossing over another finish line no matter what the distance or your time it is an amazing feeling up until that moment when you can not feel your legs and you just collapse. So after spending three minutes in the medical tent with a blanket and a very potent Gatorade drink I was able to walk out and watch my dad cross the finish line like a champ.
The next hour or so was spent looking at pictures my brother took and seeing friends who ran as well. Then the rain finally came right at the beginning of the award ceremony. After climbing the step ladder with a throbbing knee to the stage to accept my coffee cup award we left with out heads high knowing we left everything out on the run. And of course I want to thank God for giving me the power and strength to get me through this tough race. He is my power to keep driving forward in my sport. So until next time I will be training and praying to better myself as a person and as a triathlete.
