It’s official, I am in the running club. I have finally run my first “race.” Yesterday I participated in my first 5K. I woke up to have an energetic breakfast of skittles, cake, and coffee..but my mom said that wouldn’t be a very wise option. So I had pancakes and eggs instead.
I got to the event early to see all the people and booths along the streets. It was 40ish degrees so we had to go back to the car to thaw out a few times..but you’d never know we were shaking in out boots..OK I was shaking in my boots and was whining inside like a little girl. I couldn’t let my cold bones show with all these children around..they would surely point and laugh at me.
Pre race snap shot. I of course looked like this after the run too, but not really..more like a wet rat that was excited after finding a scrap of cheese. My cheese was obviously finishing the run within my goal. I wanted to finish 3.1 miles in under 30 min, and I finished in 29:13. PLUS there was some incline for at least half the race..me and hills are not friends but I suckered through it.
Let the running number collection begin!
Post race (and post shower) I rocked my new t-shirt and headed out to eat some salad mountains.
Two salad mountain faces and 4 breadsticks later I was in the most rewarding food coma. Fun fact: I hate when anything other than salad touches my salad..the plate is reserved for salad and salad toppings only aka lettuce’s, veggies, cheese’s, and croutons. Other salads like pasta salad and potato salad must have separate plates or containers. Otherwise I get angry and smash through walls.
My plan of running one race a month is still in play. I want to make a dress out of all my running numbers and wear it everyday to high end parties and jazz clubs.
Q: Do you care if your food touches?
Blissfulbritt 