Yesterday, I ran my least favorite race distance, the 5K. It was actually my 2nd 5K in less than three weeks, surprising since I had managed to avoid racing the dreaded distance for over eight months. I tried to get out of it, hinting to a friend who was helping with timing that perhaps an extra volunteer would be more helpful than a racer, but I was shot down. And it was true, the volunteers outnumbered the runners. So I found myself toeing the starting line with about 25 other racers at 6:30pm on a Tuesday- a very peculiar time for a race- which added to my disdain.
I must have known I hated the 5K before I ever raced one. After all, I decided to defy conventional wisdom and tackle a half marathon first. Then three months later, in June 2009, I ran my first 5K at the Race 4 Hope. Although I won my age-group, (yay, I'm fast for a lower-middle aged woman!) I threw up in the grass after finishing, having clearly over-exerted myself. And thus, my hatred of the 5K began.
So, why am I a 5K hater?
Part of the reason could be economical. I love a good bargain! And let's face it, you aren't getting much for your money running a 5K. Most 5Ks in the area cost around $20-25, so we're talking $6-8 per mile. Excluding perhaps the Boston Marathon, with a registration fee so high I've managed to erase the exact cost from my memory, a marathon might cost between $2-5 per mile, depending on the race and how early you register. Doesn't that sound like a bargain?!? For this reason, I only run non-profit 5Ks so at least I'm supporting a great cause during my 20 minutes of misery.
5Ks just aren't long enough. I'm not a crazy ultra runner like Nate who needs to run 60-70 miles every week, but I am in a constant state of training for my next marathon, and unfortunately I don't have a training plan that says, "Sure, just run 3.1 miles today. That's plenty!" It also means that if I'm running a Saturday 5K, I've probably already run 20-30 miles since Monday, so I'm never well-rested. When I finish a race, I generally run 3 more miles immediately, trying to stay off the course so I don't seem like a show-off, when I really want to be hanging out at the finish line with all my friends, drinking the free water and eating bagels and granola bars.
5Ks are also painful. I'm too old to be sprinting for 3.1 miles! It makes my lungs hurt! True, the pain immediately disappears once I've had a moment to catch my breath, but during the race I'm miserable. I might be sore after a marathon, but during the race I'm plodding along at least a minute per mile slower than my 5K pace so I feel fine. I enjoy a high-five-kids-in-the-crowd pace, not a going-so-fast-I-can't-speak pace.
The 5K is a race where I personally don't see much room for improvement. In May of 2012, I signed up for four 5Ks in six weeks hoping to finally break 20 minutes. I did it in the second of the four races, managed to get my time down to 19:36 by the fourth, and then I was over it. I'm not going to run in the 18s...I'm over 30! I've peaked! It's all downhill from here! Actually, in what was a big surprise to me, brought on by the fact that my beloved Garmin betrayed me and refused to find the satellite moments before the start of the Armed Forces 5K, I managed to run a new PR of 19:20 a few weeks ago. But that is definitely as fast as I'm ever going!
Finally, I have a secret 5K win streak going that is in jeopardy every time I run. Secret because, like the innings leading up to a possible no-hitter, no one mentions the streak. Just kidding! It's actually secret because I'm the only one who realizes there is a streak, but I've been the first female in every 5K I've entered since May 2011. And although I can surely attribute the streak to the fact that no faster runners have bothered to show up, I think it's annoying to other people. A typical post-race conversation might go:
Friend: How did the race go?
Me: Pretty good.
Friend: Did you win?
Me: Yes.
Friend: I'm just going to quit asking.
In addition, perfect strangers tell me at the start line that they are going to try to beat me. Is that appropriate pre-race etiquette? It also makes me visualize tripping them once the gun goes off, which is definitely not appropriate etiquette.
So even though the 5K might be my best race on paper, I hate it! But I'll still see everyone on September 20th at the Bulldog Bash 5K : )
I must have known I hated the 5K before I ever raced one. After all, I decided to defy conventional wisdom and tackle a half marathon first. Then three months later, in June 2009, I ran my first 5K at the Race 4 Hope. Although I won my age-group, (yay, I'm fast for a lower-middle aged woman!) I threw up in the grass after finishing, having clearly over-exerted myself. And thus, my hatred of the 5K began.
So, why am I a 5K hater?
Part of the reason could be economical. I love a good bargain! And let's face it, you aren't getting much for your money running a 5K. Most 5Ks in the area cost around $20-25, so we're talking $6-8 per mile. Excluding perhaps the Boston Marathon, with a registration fee so high I've managed to erase the exact cost from my memory, a marathon might cost between $2-5 per mile, depending on the race and how early you register. Doesn't that sound like a bargain?!? For this reason, I only run non-profit 5Ks so at least I'm supporting a great cause during my 20 minutes of misery.
5Ks just aren't long enough. I'm not a crazy ultra runner like Nate who needs to run 60-70 miles every week, but I am in a constant state of training for my next marathon, and unfortunately I don't have a training plan that says, "Sure, just run 3.1 miles today. That's plenty!" It also means that if I'm running a Saturday 5K, I've probably already run 20-30 miles since Monday, so I'm never well-rested. When I finish a race, I generally run 3 more miles immediately, trying to stay off the course so I don't seem like a show-off, when I really want to be hanging out at the finish line with all my friends, drinking the free water and eating bagels and granola bars.
5Ks are also painful. I'm too old to be sprinting for 3.1 miles! It makes my lungs hurt! True, the pain immediately disappears once I've had a moment to catch my breath, but during the race I'm miserable. I might be sore after a marathon, but during the race I'm plodding along at least a minute per mile slower than my 5K pace so I feel fine. I enjoy a high-five-kids-in-the-crowd pace, not a going-so-fast-I-can't-speak pace.
The 5K is a race where I personally don't see much room for improvement. In May of 2012, I signed up for four 5Ks in six weeks hoping to finally break 20 minutes. I did it in the second of the four races, managed to get my time down to 19:36 by the fourth, and then I was over it. I'm not going to run in the 18s...I'm over 30! I've peaked! It's all downhill from here! Actually, in what was a big surprise to me, brought on by the fact that my beloved Garmin betrayed me and refused to find the satellite moments before the start of the Armed Forces 5K, I managed to run a new PR of 19:20 a few weeks ago. But that is definitely as fast as I'm ever going!
Finally, I have a secret 5K win streak going that is in jeopardy every time I run. Secret because, like the innings leading up to a possible no-hitter, no one mentions the streak. Just kidding! It's actually secret because I'm the only one who realizes there is a streak, but I've been the first female in every 5K I've entered since May 2011. And although I can surely attribute the streak to the fact that no faster runners have bothered to show up, I think it's annoying to other people. A typical post-race conversation might go:
Friend: How did the race go?
Me: Pretty good.
Friend: Did you win?
Me: Yes.
Friend: I'm just going to quit asking.
In addition, perfect strangers tell me at the start line that they are going to try to beat me. Is that appropriate pre-race etiquette? It also makes me visualize tripping them once the gun goes off, which is definitely not appropriate etiquette.
So even though the 5K might be my best race on paper, I hate it! But I'll still see everyone on September 20th at the Bulldog Bash 5K : )