Saturday: Spring Burst 5k.
The Curse of Cook Park remains unbroken. I just never have a good race on this course (this was attempt number four). It was sunny and dry but a bit chilly. I started out way too fast (like, eight minute mile too fast) and then could not catch my breath, cue the asthma panic and the nausea. I spent the rest of the race trying not to throw up my stomach lining or hack up a lung. But I think I was on pace for a decent time (for me, at least) until the entire race bottlenecked up shortly after the start at a big mud pit/lake. That slowed everyone down for at least three minutes, maybe longer. My official time was 41:09 -- more than four minutes faster than this same race last year, but I would have been happier without the lost time in the mud pit (I ran through the sucker the second time around). Also, my low back/hip was out of place and I had that pinched nerve/radiating pain all down my right leg.....
Sunday: Race for the Roses Half Marathon.
....which continued through Sunday's entire race. Bah. I'd learned my lesson yesterday with starting too fast in a chilly so I had taken my inhaler with me and took an extra hit before starting, hit it again in the middle of the race when my chest started feeling tight again. But the hip. Grrr. Ironically, the pain would fade almost entirely away when I was running. Which worked out great until the elevation gain between, oh I don't know, miles two through five? I also got packed up with all the walkers -- which, fine, I think whatever speed you do is fine -- but that meant a lot of dodging and weaving, and then. AND THEN.
Those people do not freaking shut up. Chat chat chat chat chat. The entire half marathon. I started slowing down just to get away from these people. And it wasn't just one set of people. There were multiple sets of them. Yak yak yak. Plus there was this guy who was stalking the course on his bike and taking pictures of the two women next to me. I'm guessing he got at least one picture with me in the background flipping him the bird. He would circle us on his bike, like he was a shark. For three hours. I was dying to go, "Dude. Which one do you want to be fucking?" Argh.
I may have been a little grumpy due to the persistent pain in my hip. And just the meandering nature of the course. At one point, I couldn't even figure out where the hell we were. And there were plenty of water stations, except they spaced them oddly. You had several really close, then none for a while. I was ready for the race to end about four miles before it did.
My iPod registered 3.7 miles; I'm guessing that's due to all the weaving I had to do. Or we did get lost and no one told us. My chip time was 3:05:07. I was a little disappointed with that since I knew I had intentionally gone slow to get away FROM THOSE PEOPLE. Even at the end, they were STILL TALKING. Next time, I'm bringing Advil with me.
Oh, and check out how swollen my hands got from the race: