Yes, I spelled that right.

I apparently tend to use “a lot” incorrectly, but that is the correct version of heeling/healing I was going for.

Just for all you grammar crazies out there.

Anyway, Yesterday was the Flowertown Festival 5k/10k race. I’ve run this one 4 or 5 times, and sadly still have no idea what the money goes for (good going, me). The name comes from the fact that the city I live in is nicknamed “The Flowertown in the Pines” – particularly ( I think ) because of all the pretty azaelas that bloom in the springtime. Man I really need to read up on my info before I blog about it.

Thanks to early Springtime allergies,I woke up a kazillion (may or may not be an exaggeration) times the night before because my nose was either stuffed up or turned into Faucet Nose, so I went to bed contemplating skipping it altogether. But, because I had already paid for it and was hoping the exercise would clear my sinuses a bit, I went anyway. (Who am I kidding? The only time I missed a race or a run, sick or not, was when I was coughing so much it made my abs hurt)

I was alone for this one and so didn’t really get to take many pictures. I didn’t feel like carrying the phone for 6 miles. In the end, I’m really glad I went, because I’m gonna have to hang my racing shoes up for a bit after this. With an IVF in the near future, its getting too expensive. And my more nonchalant, not-so-competitive attitude helped too, because I was able to enjoy the race more vs. worrying about how fast I was going.

Plus, after the race I got a ticket for free chick-fil a. And a free doughnut. And coffee.

Free doughnut? yes please!

I meant to look happier in that picture, but the sun was in my eyes…..and I kinda stink at taking pictures of myself. Plus I felt odd asking a complete stranger to take a picture of me holding a doughnut in one hand while giving a thumps up with the other. I don’t mind humiliating myself in front of my friends, but I do have SOME dignity. But I digress.

Running has been a big healing thing for me through infertillity. And I’ve found over the last few weeks that racing does, too. It’s nice to feel a sense of accomplishment when you’re facing something stressful. At least it makes me feel like I have something to look forward to while I’m waiting. My brain is clearest when running. I can think things through. And pushing my body in races makes it impossible to worry about babies, at least for the duration of the race. I was sad while picking up my packet and leafing through upcoming races that I was going to have to forego registering for one in a couple weeks, wondering if I should pick up another hobby, like knitting. (not sarcastic….people knit some cool stuff)

I actually ended up finishing faster than I had expected at 47 minutes 41 seconds, and excitedly posted about my new personal record, until I went to add the time to my race page here and realized I had forgotten I ran it faster in 2009. Oh well, I still got a medal. πŸ™‚

After the race I stood and talked one of the guys at the booths selling shoes, who informed me that I am apparently running incorrectly. As someone who didn’t really know you could run incorrectly, this came as kind of a shock to me. I knew I probably needed a new brand of shoe as the outsides are completely worn down, but apparently the heel toe running method is no longer considered the way to go. You’re actually supposed to hit the front of your foot first, and then the heal. This new method will supposedly be easier on my joints….and make me faster. hmmm

Now, I’m a little more excited. Although I’m still a bit sad to not race and cut down on the distance, I have a new goal – learn to run the better way. I’m told it takes a lot of conscious effort, which could be better for both my healing and my heels. Meaning I can take the lower milage and concentrate on how to do it right, so that when I DO race again, I’ll be even faster. And maybe I can come close to the female winner of the race, who at 37 finished in an astounding 39 minutes and some change.

Dang.

And I leave you with one of the more attractive moments of my life, a finish line picture:

Isn’t it beautiful?

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