This was my fourth time running this race (2019, 2022, and 2023), and it’s always the kick-off to my race season. I usually run it with my friend, Katie (from the ice cream shop), but she didn’t sign up this year; I was still able to hang out with her after the race, though and catch up a bit.

I’ve only run a few times this month, mostly because it’s been rainy and/or cold or I’ve been busy. I’d like to think that because I’ve been running since 2018, my body can cobble together 3.1 miles if I try hard enough and take a few puffs of my inhaler.

Prior to the race, I met Katie at her house, and then we were on a desperate hunt for my bib and shirt. Katie said her father-in-law had it (he’s part of the organization that puts on the race), but it wasn’t at his house, so we went and found him at the local high school (where the race started and ended). He was tooling around on a golf cart (literally my dream job) and told me to hop on: we’d go to his car to get my bib. After I secured my bib and shirt, he dropped me off at the check-in table to get safety pins. I think this means we’re friends now?

Katie and her kiddos hung around during the opening remarks and the National Anthem sung by a 10 year old girl who needs a recording contract ASAP. The hurricane-force winds weren’t helping pump up the crowd, and I hoped that it wouldn’t be as bad once we started running, especially since the sun was out, too. (I usually take a picture of the start/finish line with the blow-up arch, but it wasn’t up this year; probably because they assumed it would get blown away.)

It runs through neighborhoods, and there are local police blocking intersections, so I feel safe running it. And nothing hypes you up more than random people standing out on their lawns cheering you on with cow bells and questionable beverages in coffee cups.

I ran the first mile, and it felt fine. The second mile was a bit rough, part of it I was running right into the wind, but there was nothing I could do about that. I had to stop and walk a few times, and after I finished the second mile, I slowed down to use my inhaler. I carry it in my running belt just in case I need it during the race (I take 2-3 puffs beforehand).

Right around the 2.5 mile mark is a big hill, and in the past I’ve tried to run it. This year, I was humble and said “it’s totally okay if you walk this.” And I did. This is where all of the funny signs are, like: “Run just like your mom used your full name,” “Do you want us to call you an Uber?”, “Remember you paid to do this,” “If you collapse, we’ll pause your Garmin,” and “You look hot when you sweat.”

Throughout the race, parts of the 10K and 5K course overlap, so you could totally tell when the 10K runners came through. They were, obviously, fast, and also in shorts and tank tops while the rest of us where in long leggings and pullovers—since it was 40ish degrees and incredibly windy.

I ran/walked the rest of the course, and my final time was 36:50 (258 of 449 runners). Not bad. I think it’s one of my slower, if not slowest, 5K times, but it is what it is—I still did it. There’s usually a professional photographer at the finish line, but I finished in a group of people, so I don’t have any good photos to download of just myself.

There was a group there this year (they may have been in past races) of blind runners with their guides. It was really great to see them out running the 5K, and a guy, along with two of his guides, finished right before me.

I grabbed a water bottle at the finish area and hung out for a few minutes by myself to catch my breath. Around 11:00 a.m., I texted Katie and said I was leaving to go to her house, and then we and her kiddos went to get coffees/smoothies/bagels. I’ve known her since I started working at the ice cream shop, so like ~14 years now, and we usually see each other a few times a year.

I’m already signed up for another 5K race in the beginning of May, the same one I’ve done the last two years. Hopefully I can get some more runs in this month before the race and I get body-slammed by my spring allergies.