Big baby.

So, yesterday, Chris asked me if I wanted to do a 3.5 mile race today. Normally, it would take a lot of convincing to say yes, but I agreed. I knew I didn't workout yesterday and am trying to make sure I get some sort of activity in 6 days a week.

So we're running and running, and I'm feeling pretty shitty. I have a calf cramp on one leg and a shin splint in the other. I can feel my heart fluttering in my chest and I'm breathing like the world is about to run out of oxygen. Chris and I were running together and I always feel bad running with him because I hold him back. I told him a few times to run ahead but he didn't. So I started to get upset...

First water stop--I felt like I was in last place and that the guys were just standing there just kind of waiting for us slow folk to finally get to them. Mile 2...Chris finally ran ahead to catch up with his sister and I was left alone. Like, really alone. It was a smaller race so there weren't too many people around me.

Once I was getting closer to the finish, the workers were starting to clean up all the cones before I even got to them. Even some of the cops were getting on their bikes, leaving their posts and heading back to the finish. I was heartbroken. I felt like I was holding up the whole event, that I was taking longer than they had expected, that I was the last one (which I wasn't...there were some people further behind me). We all know how I feel about finishing last. My fitness self esteem is very fragile so once I got to that finish line, I fucking broke down. I didn't even give the timer guy my ticket...I just walked off and started crying. Not just some tears, like genuinely crying.

I finally calmed down, got my free carbohydrates and shook it off. At least I did it. I could have stayed home and been lazy so I have to at least be proud of that.

Now I'm sitting here, looking up more 5k's to run. I never want to feel that way again and I won't. Maybe one day I'll be able to keep up with my boyfriend...and maybe even beat him...