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It’s race day.  I’m in the crowd at the starting line and they are counting down to the blast of the horn.  I feel a lot like I did when I went into labor with my second child, knowing that I was facing something excruciating and there is no way out except to do it.  I’m worried about turning on my music, that I won’t hear the horn.  I waver between songs, which should I start with…This Girl is on Fire, a good song for pacing and channeling Katniss, or Lose Yourself, an old favorite?  I am deeply regretting making my goal public.  I’ve told too many people that I was going to be under 30 minutes and I don’t think it is possible for me today, or any day.  My sister is jogging in place, my mom is giving me a pep talk, my stomach is in knots and there goes the horn.  We’re off.

I quickly press play, Lose Yourself it is.  I’ve already lost sight of my sister who is aiming to be under  25.  I’m about a hundred yards from the start and I realize I never turned on my stopwatch.  Runners stream past me on both sides.  I cannot let myself be swept along.  I make a promise that I may pass some of them later if I keep my own pace.

I listen to Whistle, Wild One, and by the time I’m on Shake It Out the race is well underway and I’m approaching the halfway point.  I turn the corner at 13:30 and scare myself that my pace is too fast.  Negative talk takes over until I start my mantra, “I’m okay right now, I’m okay right now.”  And for the moment, I am.

The second half is tough, a few hills, a stretch along the lake, a brief section through the camp grounds.  Spectators sip coffee, hold plates of breakfast and clap for us.  I’m so jealous of their pajama pants and lounge chairs I could cry.  I check my time and know I won’t finish in less than 35 minutes.  There are no mile markers but I’m pretty sure the finish is just too far away.  I ponder the ethics of writing a dishonest blog.

GnR’s Sweet Child of Mine is too slow, I forward to You Could Be Mine and pick up the pace.  Finally, I turn the corner and see the finish line far ahead.  I glance at my watch:  26:40.  Trouble by Pink begins at just the right time.  I start to sprint…or my version of a sprint at this point.  And suddenly it is possible, I know I will make it.  I can see the timer as it turns to 28:00.  I run harder.  My sister is on the side yelling something I can’t make out.  I give my last bit of effort and cross the finish line.  I’m dizzy and afraid I’ll pass out.  I’m afraid I’m hyperventilating.  But I’m not afraid that I haven’t met my goal.

Official times are posted and I see it in black and white:  Stacie Angel 28:34.  My parents, brother and sister-in-law all earned first place medals in their walking divisions.  My sister achieved her personal best in the 5k run with a 24:09 and earned third place.  I came in twelfth.  They don’t give medals for that but I don’t need one.

Ahh, it’s summer, without a doubt, my favorite time of year.  I am happy to have chosen a career that allows me relative freedom for two glorious months.  The minute I am no longer required to go to an office each day, I am in summer mode.  This results in an interesting mix of complete laziness and frantic motivation.  I am terribly lazy about anything work related.  I have a pile of professional books I know I won’t read, I can barely get myself to open a work-related email and prepping for next school year…forget it.

On the contrary, I’m filled with energy when it comes to cleaning my house, reorganizing my closets and playing with my kids.  I can’t wait to tackle all of the projects I put off during the school year and pretend for a while that I am a stay at home mom.  This frenzy of motivation extends to my exercise program, and just in time, too.  I’m a week and a half away from my Fourth of July 5k and I am nearly ready.

The Lake City Greatest Fourth in the North 5k is a bit of a family tradition.  The sportier ones among us, my sister, my brother, my husband, run pretty much every year.  My parents, committed power walkers, always enter and finish in first or second place.  My participation has been a little spotty.  Depending on what stage of child rearing I happened to be in–pregnant and not interested, recently pregnant and too out of shape, waking up with crying kids and just too exhausted, or unwilling to miss the joy of kids in bed and open wine and, as a result, too hung over to even stand at the finish line– I’ve often not been a competitor on  race day.  Last year I was out of excuses.  It was my first attempt to run.  I’d almost rather reveal my weight then my time from last year, but because I’m hoping to crush this “record” I will tell you:  33:55 minutes.

This year is different. Last year, I was just hoping to be able to make it the whole way without stopping.  This year, I’ve been completing a hilly 5k course in under 30 minutes.  I am definitely more prepared.  I have also recently begun doing the Insanity Workout and suddenly my running has improved.   So, either Jeff is right and high intensity circuit training really does improve cardio endurance.  Or running, when compared with the exhausting Insanity work-outs, just isn’t that hard.  In any case, running is easier than it has ever been for me.

So, with a week of training left, I have a plan.

• Add music to my run.  I may be the last person on the planet to lack an iPod and I need to rectify that before race day. (Thank you Kelli who ran a 5k in 24 minutes…I’ll follow any advice you give!)
• Work on my form.  My husband runs like a gazelle and from what he tells me, I don’t.  I continue to work on my posture and being light on my feet.  (Thank you, Jeff.)
• Keep doing Insanity.  (Thank you, Jen, you were right.)
• Work on my breathing techniques. (Thank you, Shaun T from my Insanity videos, the deep inhale quick exhale does wonders.)
• Practice my mantra, “I’m okay right now,” to keep me from getting overwhelmed by the distance.  (Thank you, Toree, for loaning me that technique.)
• Think of myself as a runner.  (For this I must thank Ang who never thought she was a runner but recently ran a half-marathon on The Great Wall of China.  Looks like we can decide to be anything we want.)

It takes a village to raise a child and apparently it takes the same to get me ready for a 5k but come race day, I will be ready.

I’ve recently realized that I’m not very adventurous when it comes to my workouts.  I have become very comfortable with circuit training with weights and cardio bouts.  I spend lots of time on my treadmill and when it’s sunny, I jog outside.  If I can ever get to a class, it is cycling or a weights class.  I don’t do yoga, Zumba, Pilates, Cross-Fit, or TRX.  Oh sure, back in the day I did step aerobics and even jazzercise.  But these days, I don’t step out of my comfort zone.  My sister likes to say, “If I’m only going to drink one glass of wine it needs to be fabulous.”  And if I’m only able to do one class every other week, I want to make sure I like it…and that I can get through it.

So it was with a bit of apprehension that I headed out to a jewelry and workout party at The Dailey Method in Birmingham. (This is a wonderful change of pace for a Stella and Dot party, by the way.  Instead of my usual, drink too much wine and buy too much, this party offered a free workout before the wine.  I felt far less guilty the next day.)  My understanding of The Dailey Method was that it consisted of a mix of yoga and a barre workout.  I have done one yoga class in my life and I am in no way a dancer so a workout of this nature would be a legitimate cause for concern.

But the workout we did was not at all what I expected.  It was not yoga and we did not use the barre for dancing.  That might have been easier.  Instead we worked our way through intense, isolation movements targeting all of the major muscle groups.  Each exercise was designed to be done with minimal motion, like triceps extensions held and extended just an inch.  We relied on our own muscles for most of the resistance, and honestly, that was enough.   Before we began I had scoffed at the weight selection:  only 2 or 3 pound dumbbells?  Within a few minutes of the triceps series, I had to put the 3 pounders down.

I struggled through the workout, shaking and sweating and amazed at how unlike my usual routine it was.  I feel like I’m in reasonably good shape but this was a whole new adventure.  I suddenly realized that my unwillingness to try new classes and approaches to fitness has been limiting me.  Up until now, I would not have considered doing a Zumba or a yoga class at my gym.  I thought I knew the best way to exercise…do what I’ve always done.  But the truth is, there are so many approaches to fitness and it is good to shake things up.  A different kind of class is not just physically challenging, it will keep things interesting and help me in the area I need most:  staying motivated.

So the evening was a success.   The Dailey Method left me with sore muscles and a desire to expand my fitness horizons…and, of course, a fabulous pair of earrings.