The First 1/2 Of My First 10K Race Post. Subtitle: JiggleButt Gonna Getcha


You know how the old saying goes, ‘sometimes your the croc, sometimes your the sassy looking dog’. I woke up Saturday morning at 530 AM feeling quite like the sassy dog with a giant croc eating half my body. I went to sleep at Paul’s house Friday night at 1 am, sober, while watching him play a nerdy video game and thinking of clever 530 AM excuses for not wanting/needing to run a 10K.

Lucky for me, I was able to go to sleep by 1AM. I say this because the night before I simply could not go to sleep. I had let whiskey get the better of me and played Call of Duty 2: Modern Warfare 2 with Fellman till 430 Am. He hit the sack then, needing to actually go to “work” in the late morning, leaving me to my lonesome. I tossed and turned on the couch, couldn’t sleep for the life of me. I eventually left the house at 8 AMish in search of some delicious McDonalds hash browns but ended up just making a B line to the house.

Once there, I had the plan to sleep, because you know that’s what people do when done drinking and its 8 am … ish. Lucky for me I couldn’t sleep because, well I don’t know, I get these random insomniac sleep fits every now and then. I go through long stretches of very very little sleep mostly because of not having a job and no structure in life. Regardless, I grab another 2 hours at the most of sleep before I head to Paul’s house because you and me both know that I am not waking up in time myself to go to Quanico to run something I don’t really want to. Paul is reasonably motivated to do so, so I figured that sleeping there would be a proverbial kick in the ass I’d need (despite Paul’s warning before he went to sleep “I’ll try to wake you up once, if you don’t wake up I’ll leave you”). For any regular readers who for some reason questioned who wore the pants in this blog relationship, well there you go.

Side note: Boobs, your now 2nd place, Luchador Pug is now my new favorite thing in the world.

The more I do this, the more I find it hard to make what me and Paul do entertaining. We’re running. Running, as you know, is a terribly boring thing. I’m trying to gussy up everything in-between us waking up at an absurd hour and (spoiler alert) us finishing an awesome race. Short story pre race: we woke up early, made jokes about how awful being up early is, went to 7-11, worried a lot about pooping or peeing during the race.

Paul has done races before. He’s written about them, here on this very blog. Me, not so much. I’ve tried very hard not to be ready for this race or just in general for the overall goal for this blog. I haven’t run a damn thing, ‘officially’ wise. This was my first race. I had no interest in the word ‘race’, I was interested in the word ‘finish’, meaning if I ‘finished’, I’d be able to register early for the Marine Corps Marathon, which so happens to be the endgame for this blog. Fancy that. Dog picture.

Pug Vader ... you have won my heart

Pug Vader ... you have won my heart

I didn’t have many goals going into this race other than finishing under 16 min per mile pace. I just wanted to finish and register. I had no other ambitions going in. When I got my bib (the thing you safety pin onto your shirt with your race number), which was 1038, I got a little bit motivated. I told Paul I then wanted to beat my bib, meaning I wanted my per mile pace for the 6.2(ish) miles to be better than 10min38sec. I had run 5.5 miles the previous Wednesday at 11min/mile pace. Not a desirable  pace for me at all, but that was pretty much the last time I had run over 5 miles since October. My personal best for not stopping to walk for a little bit during a run was somewhere around 3 miles. I would look back into my previous posts but I’m too lazy but we’ll go with that, but nearing race time I had soon developed the desire to do not only finish but to do good.

40 minutes before the race started I stretched a good bit and stretched a little more. To pass the remaining time, I took a walk around the nearby track for a couple laps. As I made my way back to find Paul, the intercom sounded to call all racers to the starting line. Found Paul. National Anthem. 1700 racers ready. The other 100 in line for the port-a-johns. Starter gun. Let the 1200 or so racers go in front of us because we’re gentleman. Act excited for the camera. Butterflys. Start the Ipod Nike+ sensor. Race started.

Dog on the left is straight ready to party

The first half mile I was accommodating myself to running with a group of people. Since high school, I have never run with anyone else, except for Paul that one time when I was drunk and it was raining and it was awful and well I wrote about it once, do look back in the archives for it. I checked my sensor .75 miles in to make sure I was going on the pace I wanted to but quickly found myself to be running harder than I had wanted. Not wanting to slow down so early in the race and upset people behind me, I kept up. Feeling awesome while going downhill and catching the first glimpse of some river, I checked the ipod again to reveal I was running at an even faster pace just as we were ascending a slight hill.

On a normal run in my neighborhood, I would have entertained the idea of walking soon in my head by now, but the energetic group of runners around me made me feel like I had just started running. It was a new, warming and incredibly welcoming feeling. I was listening to my music, which I love to listen to as almost as loud as possible (and I listen to either Death Metal Music, Metal Music or Slightly Less Hard Music while running), but I could still hear encouragement being shouted  throughout the group, even as I passed them or as they passed me. It was very very cool, something completely alien to me as a runner. Dog picture.

Pimp Dog does not need your cheers

It was early that I knew I couldn’t rely on the adrenaline or cheers of fellow runners to get me through. Running with a group of people was very beneficial, but also annoying. There was a a lot of people I had to run past and a lot of people running past me at the same time for the first 2 miles. I needed focus. I needed something to get in the zone.When I run by myself, I always just concentrate on whats ailing me, physically or mentally. With my mind ready to go in a thousand places because of a new environment and a slew of new people, 1 thing caught my eye. Something, even though amoung a lot of people, I could get away with. Any other normal circumstance you would never get away with staring at. If I positioned myself properly, someone that wouldn’t slow me down at all, I could get away with ‘staring murder’. It is late a March morning, and it was cold. Girls be wearing those skin tight stocking/running tights thingys. You know that they are. I even have em. They are awesome. Make you feel like The Flash.

I never took into account how many girls would wear em. For better or worse, a ton of girls had the need to run with em. If I wouldn’t have looked like such a creep, I would have applauded each one of em. Some of you might think, “Ew Mike, not all girls can rock that”. Technically, true. But let me offer you this math formula to sooth your troubled mind, from a runners perspective: skinny running tights= jigglebutt.

No no no, JiggleButt, not Jigglypuff the Pokemon (but also the surprisingly effective Smash Bros character).

"Jigglebutt" turns up a lot of 'groan worthy' google images results. NSFW if so inclined, sicko

Jigglebutt. Something I wouldn’t spend more than a second looking at. But I never knew its value before during this race. I knew no one was looking at my eyes or where they were looking at, so I deducted that I had a free pass to what ever was in front of me. I knew I was gonna be at least running for an hour. I had a great playlist on my ipod ready, but it was the same that I had listened to on all of my runs. I was gonna need something else to keep me going during the race other than the “new” factor of running with a group. I found it after mile maker 1. Yup, Jigglebutt.

Honestly, don't google anything with the word 'butt' in it, this is the 2nd best picture I could use

Jigglebutt. You know what it is. You’ve either seen it or you think you have it. I’m mostly sure I have it, but I’m confident I only have it with skinny clothing (which I almost never wear). I need to be able to say that I never go out actively looking for Jigglebutt or someone that might have some Jigglebutt on any given weekday or weekend. I’m not saying that I discriminate on anyone with some Jigglebutt, I only mean to imply that my normal transactions do not include a casual walk through the Jigglebutt isle (mostly through the frozen foods isle if you must know).

I’m not hating, just transfixed. I was able to focus on some Jigglebutt for long enough to make this race much less strenuous. I know such a practice will be harder to duplicate in coming months, but I would certainly advocate a Jigglebutt Trance in cold months, either be it in training or races.

I think my Jigglebutt stance is a good enough stopping point for now. Part 2 will be the link that’ll you’ll need to click after you click the Back button, then click the link above this ‘post’. One more dog picture? Of Batman AND Robin? Ok.

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