At the turn of the new year, I decided to sign up for the Charlottesville Ten Miler. I had been frustrated with the lack of direction in my life, and completing this test of endurance would not only help me get in shape after the holidays, but would also be a tangible goal for me to work toward. During winter break it was easy to follow a training plan I found online when my only obligations were to sleep, watch TV and occasionally drive my sister somewhere. But being back at school was a different story.
My first obstacle was finding time to run while I was juggling classes and extracurriculars, not to mention working with the less-than-ideal weather and limited daylight. Before signing up for the Ten Miler, I was a sporadic exerciser. I would work out for a few days in a row then stop for a few days — or weeks — before starting again. Now that I was training, I made it an obligation to run and built it into my schedule.
Running became my “me time,” a chance to focus on my body, breathing and mileage goal for that day. I liked being able to set my own pace throughout my runs and having the freedom to take detours and add segments depending on how I was feeling. Though I preferred to train alone, I was never at a loss for a community in the running world. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there isn’t a shortage of runners at the University.
Throughout the course of my training I learned to appreciate the topography of Charlottesville and my hometown of Stamford, Conn. Who knew that the road on which I drove to and from school growing up was one long steady hill? Not me.
About a week before the race I took to the streets for what I thought would be an easy four-miler — only to discover exactly how grueling the hill of Long Ridge Road was. When I arrived back home, I told my dad, a two-time NYC marathon runner, about the nightmare that was my route, and the first thing out of his mouth was a remark about how hilly Long Ridge is. Safe to say, I felt like an idiot .
Thanks to that particularly bad run, I found myself getting nervous for the race. My legs were hurting over what should have been easy runs, making me feel unprepared. But when I picked up my race packet the day before the event and looked at the route for the first time since I had signed up, I realized I had unintentionally run almost the entirety of it during my training. Suddenly, I wasn’t nervous anymore, instead excited to see all my routes come together.
The morning of the race last Saturday was dark, rainy and a little chilly. When I arrived at 6:45 a.m. people were milling around John Paul Jones Arena, stretching, using the restrooms and chatting. At 7:14 a.m. JPJ cleared out and the race started promptly at 7:15 a.m. The event was well-organized yet relaxed, casual and friendly, which as a first-time distance racer, I fully appreciated. Some were donning tutus and St. Patrick’s Day gear, while one group even started in goggles in protest of the rain.
During the actual race I found myself more thankful than ever to be running alone. It was important to go really slow the first three miles to warm up and then adjust as needed. Early in the course we looped around Scott Stadium and back down Alderman onto McCormick. Volunteers handed out water every two miles, and it was a proud moment when around mile four I had my first cup, took a quick swig and got to toss it to the side like a real racer. People were standing throughout the route playing music from their cars, cheering and holding up posters. They felt like old friends.
When I passed the eight-mile marker I gave myself a literal pat on the back because I knew I was going to make my goal. I even smiled climbing the grueling slope up the Corner when Queen’s “We Are The Champions” came on. I never stopped running and finished the race in one hour and 57 minutes. As I sipped on Gatorade and my favorite post-run refuel drink of chocolate milk, I marveled at what I had accomplished.
Signing up for the race had been more about the experience of training and self-discipline than the race itself. I hadn’t expected to have so much fun during the actual Ten Miler — I used to say I only liked the feeling of accomplishment I got after running. But now I’ve come to really enjoy running itself. During the race people had held up signs that read, “You paid money to do this?!” and each time I saw one I laughed. I knew I would do it again in a heartbeat.
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