A Race Report

May 28, 2010

What's that? You hate running? You'd rather swoosh your head around in a freshly pooped port-o-potty than listen to another word about the most boring sport on earth? Well don't sweat it too hard--this was an extra short race, a mile to be exact, so you'll get an extra short race report.

Ladies and gentlemen, I haven't raced a mile since high school and that was, what, three (or maybe twelve) years ago now? Make no mistake about it, it's been a busy twelve years, and between two kids, one husband, a c-section scar, and hundreds of millions of candy bars, these legs don't turn over quite like they used to.

When I signed up for this race, I really had no idea what to expect from myself. I filled out the race application, and in the Estimated Finish Time slot, I shakily wrote 6:30.

When I walked over to the starting line, there were two distinct groups of people: high schools kids and douche bags. The high school kids were obviously there because their track coach told them to be. And the douche bags? Well? As far as I could tell, they were there to prove that their balls hadn't disintegrated to dust at their bachelor parties.

When I nudged myself into the starting corral, the douche bags piped up without a second of hesitation. They were all, "Ohhhh, woops! I forgot to wear my marathon shirt!" and "I actually ran twenty-five miles to get here today."

As for me, I was just standing there thinking, "What the @#$% is your problem?!"

Then I glanced down at my chest and realized, not only did I have fabulous looking boobs, but I was also wearing my finisher's shirt from the White Rock Marathon. Perhaps I was looking a little douche baggish myself.

I turned to my fellow douche bags and said, "Oh geeze, don't let this shirt fool you. I bought it at the Goodwill for a dollar. I don't even know how far a marathon is!" Then without thinking I added, "And I'm wicked hung over."

They liked that. They snickered, made a couple jokes about penises (or something), and when they were too busy to hear me I was like, "I'm gonna hand you your ass on a shiskabob stick."

When the gun went off, I felt like I was tripping all over myself. I hadn't run that kind of a pace in a long, long time and I was getting absolutely smoked by most of the field--douche bags and all. When I got to the quarter mile mark the clock read 1:24--that's a 5:36 mile pace. I glanced around and noticed two things: lots of gasping for air, and lots of people with side stitches.

I dialed back my pace and kept on trucking. I hit 2:52 at the half mile and 4:28 at three-quarters. I was getting progressively slower as the race went on, but I was still upright, and most of the field was behind me, so I just hung on and went for it.

When I rounded the last corner, I saw Maggie's bright blue stroller and I could hear James screaming "Mom! You're not winning!!! You're not winning!!!"

Thank you, James.

I could just make out the clock, and the first digit was clearly a 5, not a 6. Remember, I might have written 6:30 as my estimated finishing time, but deep down I was dying to run a 5:59--so I turned it up a notch and I went for it.

Now I'm not exaggerating here, I could feel almost every single part of my body jiggling for mercy. My butt was was jiggling so hard and so fast, I honestly thought I might lose it right there on Main Street. And my gut fat? Let's just say that my gut flab was slapping me around like an angry Southern MeeMaw.

But guess what? I finished that mile in 5:58.

The douche bags? 8:30. And you can bet your ass I waited around to cheer 'em all on.

34 comments:

Mindy said...

Yes!! That race report was every bit as good as I hoped. Way to smoke the douche bags. I wish I could've seen their faces!!! You rock, Amy.

Charlotte said...

Damn, girl! I bumped up my pace to a 6:30 mile for the last TWO TENTHS of a mile yesterday... and I thought I was going to die. My hat is off to you.

And Mindy is right... that race report was seriously worth every second it took to read. Loved it!

Meagan Brooks said...

Do you know how often I've dreamed of doing something like that? :) There are some major douche bags at my gym. I would love to hand them their balls on a platter. Too bad there are no races at the gym! Go you!

Rachel said...

Go Amy go!

Betsy said...

That is awesome. Well done!

Brad and Rebecca said...

a southern angry MeeMaw!!! I am dying. literally, dy. ing. hysterical! haha!!!!

GeorgiaSnail said...

Way to drop a sub 6 on the D-Bags...

They were all like, "Where did WHO go?"

NorahS said...

Good on you!!! Congratulations.

EZEthan said...

Way to "chick" the Douche bags!!!... but hey, wait a minute... those Douche bags sound a lot like me!

Joy Through Cooking said...

woah! I am impressed!!!!

paige said...

bahahaha - my favourite part is the jigglies.

mommymelb said...

I read your blog everyday, and everyday you make me laugh...but today, you've outdone yourself! I laughed so hard tears rolled down my cheeks and my gut fat to jiggled too!

Thanks!

And good job on the mile time! That's awesome!

Bahston Beans said...

Holy crap. You're nuts. I don't think we'll ever know where your running skills came from.

Meghan said...

never commented here before, but i wanted to congratualte you-- FANTASTIC time! :)

Pam said...

It's hard for a blog amuse me past the point of a smirk or maybe a little giggle. You have me belly laughing on a regular basis. Today is no exception.

jadine said...

High-five! That's fantastic!

funderson said...

FREAKINGAWESOME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I am wicked stoked you kicked the douche's in the bag! Way to go

Jimmy said...

Most boring sport on earth or not, this post was awesome! Way to go!

Morgan -Ing said...

Nice. Very nice.

Mel said...

You rock!

My time estimate would have read like this:

Yes I will finish sometime before I die, or maybe I'll die in the middle but someone please drag my body across the finish line.

Unless there were zombies or a bear chasing us then I would just trip someone else so at least I'd be faster than them.

Amber Lynae said...

Geez Girl, that is awesome.

Sconi Mommy said...

I don't run unless someone, probably with a knife or a broken beer bottle, is chasing me. And even then, I can't run very fast and would probably get stabbed anyway. I really would rather carry mace than run, given the option. I run a 60 minute mile, if I'm lucky, not that I've timed it since HS, when someone forced me to. That said, I can walk for long distances quite enjoyably. But I am oh so proud of you for kicking some douche bag ass!

X-Country2 said...

That's awesome. I'm so glad you represented. Knew you woudl!

Chelsea said...

I love you. I don't even know you, but for things like this, I love you.

Ruth said...

You are one fantastic lady!

M said...

You are so awesome!! Did you smear their face in the fact that you had earned the marathon shirt?

Hurricanehol said...

Any race report that includes the words douche bags and penises is a well written report! Way to go!

k said...

Love it! Congratulations. I hope you puked on their shoes afterward.

Cheryl said...

OMG! Thanks Amy. I needed a belly laugh really badly today. I never knew how to describe my belly flab when I run. Now I know! I have no idea how fast that is, I just know you are awesome! Way to go, Amy!!!

DB said...

Great post Amy! I always look forward to your stories.

P.O.M. said...

Oh my heck. You are too awesome for words.

Tanya Gough said...

I'm not a runner, but I've pushed my body to limits to know what that death jiggle feels like. And you described it perfectly! HAha. Congratulations on a great time!

Kirsty said...

Day-amn girl I bow at your feet. I bow.at.your.feet. The only time I get close to a 5 min mile is when I am being dragged by my squirrel chasing dog...and it is terrifying and only lasts for a few seconds before I shriek death threats at her and screech to a wobbly stop. I can't imagine motoring like that on my own steam. Amazing. And the douche-bag thing well that makes it delicious. I'm pretty sure they were freaked out by you from the start though.

Kirsty said...

Day-amn girl I bow at your feet. I bow.at.your.feet. The only time I get close to a 5 min mile is when I am being dragged by my squirrel chasing dog...and it is terrifying and only lasts for a few seconds before I shriek death threats at her and screech to a wobbly stop. I can't imagine motoring like that on my own steam. Amazing. And the douche-bag thing well that makes it delicious. I'm pretty sure they were freaked out by you from the start though.