Day Twenty-Eight: 5K (uphill) in 41:55

I placed #362 out of 399 runners in the race today! The whole thing started out so badly that, really, I am just thrilled to have finished at all.

I had to sleep at my childhood home last night in order to make it to the race on time. In the morning, as I dressed, my mother stood there watching from the doorway, hysterically crying, "Oh my G-d! It's awful out there! You can't go!" "No negatives!" I screamed back at her and struggled to drag the sliding door across the carpet and between us. From the other side I could hear her still whimpering, "What will happen! Oh no! This is dangerous! My car! Be careful with my car..."

She wasn't wrong, the weather was a bit harsh, but I didn't want anything stopping me so I literally ran out of the house without saying good bye, leaving the front door swinging! I called her from the corner and told her I was on my way, that she should lock the front door. "I thought I was coming with you," she whined, though we had already agreed she wasn't. Then she suddenly turned chipper, "Well, have a great time! I'm so glad you're doing something you love." "Mom!" I laughed back, "This is not fun! Remember? I hate running!" "Oh right, right..." she said, "I know. Your blog. You hate to run." "Yes! I hate to run. Now, wish me luck!" and she did.

I checked my BlackBerry as I drove myself to Bedford, my mother's Honda swaying in gale force winds the whole way. I had to stop twice en route as Police cars directed traffic around huge fallen trees. I had my amazing new Sugoi pants and fuzzy Nike hat and gloves on though and was pretty sure they'd keep me warm in the 42 degree weather; at least I wouldn't die of heat stroke. The other thing I had on was my lucky T-shirt. It's this ghastly heather grey XL synthetic fiber T-shirt that used to say Williams on it, but hasn't for years. I got it during the summer of 1987 when I was at Bennington College for the July Program and visited nearby Williams to scope it out before applying. I don't know why I love that shirt so much but it's been with me now for 22 years so I figure it has the kind of fortitude I need in a situation like this. Physically, I was feeling pretty good except for a knot in my left hip, which I assumed I'd fix with a little stretching at the start line. I wondered how many people would be there.

When I got to Bedford, there wasn't a soul in sight. I was an hour early. I decided to drive around town and see if there were race course markers because while I'd seen the start and finish lines yesterday, I had no idea where the course actually went. I was curious about this "big hill" everyone was talking about. This was horse country and there sure were a lot of rolling hills; but how big could this big hill be?

The course started out by the Bedford elementary school with a steep hill right away. Could this be "the" hill? I wasn't scared yet! But it wasn't. The course stretched out for half a mile on a slight incline, then a slight decline, and then a right turn onto Indian Hill Road. If you don't know Bedford, let me tell you about Indian *Hell* Road which slopes upwards at an angle of 45 degrees for close to a mile. If you think I'm kidding, I'm not. At the precipice, it then shifts into 45 degree downhill hairpin turns for about a quarter mile, and then the rest of the course was up and down, up and down, at 5-15 degree angles. Honestly - ridiculous! I've only ever run on flat surfaces but for the slight ups and downs on the Lower Loop, which I'm embarrassed to remember I've ever bitched about! This was going to be impossible. I was scared.

I headed back to the parking lot feeling deflated. A crowd was forming. The first person I encountered was, as luck would have it, an old friend and former colleague from days at JMCP, Cindy Pomroy! We haven't seen each other in 10 years! It was such a joy to see her and so fun to catch up, I almost forgot what I was about to be going through! Cindy wasn't running, she was just handing out T-shirts and goodie bags.

I got my number and tried to figure out how to pin it to my chest - above the boobs, below the boobs, on the Tshirt or on the jacket. I looked at the other women for some guidance but most of them were pretty flat chested and it didn't matter. I expressed my concern about over/under the jacket to a teenage girl who was accompanied by her obese but very proud parents, who kept taking photos of her while she giggled, "Stop!" and she said to go with over the jacket - that there wasn't any way I'd get so hot I'd have to take my jacket off. I did as she said. She looked like she knew what she was doing. She and the rest of the Fox Lane Cross Country team were there and you have to assume the kids were getting some intelligent coaching. This was Westchester. Only the best for the children.

I could feel my nerves starting - and the knot in my hip wasn't abating. I grabbed a hard, plain bagel and ate half a banana from the hospitality table, hoping food would soothe my nerves. 40 minutes to race time. Runners started to load into the buses taking us to the start line. I went to one for warmth! When we got off the buses, everyone piled into the elementary school where a local trainer led about 200 of us in some warm up exercises, which I was actually quite grateful for. I was exhausted by the end of the warm up, though, which only made me more concerned! I considered asking the trainer about the knot in my hip but didn't want to risk his telling me I shouldn't run.

I got in line for the ladies' room along with 20 or so others and happened to be behind a woman wearing a thermal jacket with an Absolut vodka logo on it. I was wearing my Proximo jacket - partly chosen because I figured if I had to ditch it, I wouldn't mind losing it! ...and party chosen because it's warm, it fits me perfectly and I love it. (Kind of symbolic of my whole experience there.) I asked the woman if she worked at Pernod Ricard and, wouldn't you know, she did! We actually have emailed each other but we hadn't met in person yet. I felt happy to know one more person.

With 5 minutes to start time, we were herded out into the street, at the bottom of the first short hill. A few if the girls and I compared "first songs" on our iPods. One girl couldn't get her iPod to work for a minute and we all swooped in to help her fixt the problem. OH MY GOSH! Such a relief we felt for her when it was all over. 4 of the 5 girls had "Empire State" as their first song... I thought of Brian at the office - and how we joke about this song coming on every hour on the radio - and about how here I was running the freaking Turkey Trot and he'd told me before leaving for break that he wasn't actually going to run his this year. Ugh!

The gun went off - or someone yelled "Go!" - I really don't remember - but suddenly we were all running. Within SECONDS people were passing me in droves. It was as if I were standing still, and they were all running. Were they pacing themselves? What!? Was I really this slow? I put my head down and focused on my music, my breathing, my path to the Marathon. OK - then I looked up and felt bad about myself and notice that my hip was KILLING me and that I couldn't catch my breath, and I needed to blow my nose and was thirsty. Was it too soon to stop and walk already at 2 minutes? YES! Go, Go, Go, Michelle! Parents holding children of 7 and 8 years old on either hand were passing me. A round girl in a head-to-toe emerald green workout suit passed me. NO WAY! I sped up. That girl was not going to beat me.

I can barely remember Indian Hill Road. I remember looking back and noticing I wasn't last and feeling somewhat grateful - and then looking up to the top and feeling hopelessness wash over me - and then talking to myself and saying just look 3 feet ahead. Do not stop. Walk. Walk big and fast. Pick it up, Sanders! Move! Move! I remember being grateful that it was so cold and the sun was shining on my face. I smiled the whole time because even though it was miserable, as soon as I hit the 2 mile mark I knew I was going to finish - and that was all I cared about. Finishing and not getting injured. I noticed my hip suddenly stopped hurting.

As I came down the last 1/4 mile towards the finish, Cindy was waiting at the corner of Route 22 cheering people on. I called her name out when I saw her! The sound of my own voice surprised me - I was still alive - still breathing! Then something magical happened. I've had some magical moments in my life when something in nature has surprised me with its beauty - overwhelmed me and totally captured my attention. As I ran down the road next to St. Patrick's I looked down and there was a strip of tar that ran out ahead of me in the kind of ordered chaos one sees at the molecular level in nature. A man had clearly laid the path, but it was feathered and artful. Its black surface was shining in the sun, leading me along the last leg of the race, seducing me with its beauty. Eminem was in my ear telling me about his mom's spaghetti and I thought of 8 Mile in Detroit, where I've been - and even been to some of the seediest strip clubs on tequila market surveys. Eminem got himself out of Salem's Lot and I was going to get myself out of this race! Almost there!

I turned into the parking lot and saw the finish line! I was so excited, I sped up. I glanced ahead of me to see who was in their moment of glory and there she was - the girl in the emerald warm up suit! Oh no!!! There was no way I could speed up and beat her now - she was already crossing the line. I thought I'd left her in the dust around mile 2, when I was in my prime! That sneaky girl! But I was too happy to be mad at myself for not beating her. We were both finishing. She could have her emerald green moment of glory and... I was going to have mine.

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