First race (of hopefully many)

June 5th, we ran our first road race – the Boston AIDS Walk and 5k. To say it was awesome would be an understatement, so allow me to be a bit more loquacious.

We woke up at 7, and got out of the house by seven thirty. Check in/registration began by the hatch shell at seven thirty, and we hadn’t paid yet. So, quick T ride to Charles/MGH on the redline, and a brisk walk to the Esplanade. We registered quickly (there were so few people there that early that we just walked up and paid), got our numbers (!!! Our first numbers!!!), and sat around, waiting for a friend/co-worker to join us. We applied lots of sunscreen, I used the bathroom repeatedly (nervous peeing), and before we knew it, we were doing giant group warm-up stretches on the grass in front of the hatch shell.

The race started promptly at 9:50. As we were walking to line up – and there were about 750 runners – the announcer said “So, 6-minute pace up front, so on and so on, you know the drill,” and I laughed because we did not know the drill at all! So we stayed at the back, and waited for the starting bell. When it came, everyone surged forward, and since we were so far back we ended up walking for the first half-minute. Finally we were on Storrow drive, and running on the street. It was amazing to see hundreds of runners all around us, all moving towards the same destination, and humbling to see everyone pass us. I knew S would be able to move faster, but my pace is just so slow right now. There were a few short hills, mostly amazing views, and before we knew it we saw the two mile marker. From about 2.5 miles to the end there were signs on the side of the track marking off years, and what had happened in history relating to AIDS in that year. So somber but celebratory – we were running towards a cure.

I kept picking fights with S throughout the race, urging him to go forward, but he wouldn’t leave me. We had trained together, so we would race together. This would be the last time we would be able to run together – I feel too guilty holding him back. I just kept kicking myself, feeling horrible that this was a GOOD time for me, but a gentle pace for him. We finished in 35’15”, which is decent for a first run. As soon as we stopped at the finish line, and walked for a minute, we both felt like we could start up again. It makes me wonder – is it better to run farther at a slower pace, or faster for a shorter amount of time? I’ll figure it out in time.. The best feeling – knowing we were running for a purpose. Second best – coming home, showering, and staging a birthday picnic with my husband and friends. That was pretty special.


A co-worker of mine asked today if I had kept running, and was pleased to learn that I had. Yesterday S and I woke early in the morning to run 3.25 (in 35 minutes!!!!) before heading to work.