About a year ago, I, pretty much on a whim, ran a 10k at
Siem Reap and figured that’d be the end of my racing career. “First and let’s
face it, only” is the wording that I remember. It was fun, but those people are
nuts. Waking up in the dark and sweating early in the morning is for the birds,
right? Why would anyone do that?
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| Go! |
But c’mon, it was Angor Wat. That is so very cool, right?
Being in a 10k a stone’s throw from Angor Wat. How could you pass that up?
There just can’t be anything as awesome as that, can there?
Well …
As it turns out, there is a race that’s also awesome, and it’s
one that crosses continents. I’m lucky enough to live in Istanbul, which
straddles both Europe and Asia, and once a year there’s a marathon (and 15k and
10k) that allows participants to run across the Bosporus Bridge, one of three bridges
that connects both sides of Istanbul. When
you’re on it, you’re neither in Europe nor Asia, but you are in Istanbul.
Enough to boggle the mind.
So I signed up. I seriously thought about the 15k, and,
running about 10-14k daily on a treadmill, I think I could do it, but decided
to opt for the 10k instead. I’m here for two years and this gives me something
to aim for next year. No flippin’ way I am running an actual marathon – 42k is
WAY over my limit.
Besides, I am not a runner. I hit the gym practically every
day and each day I hope it’s the day I finally love it, but so far that hasn’t
happened. It’s so utterly boring. It’s better when I’m outside, which I’ve started
doing once a week, but even with the beautiful Bosporus to my right or left, it’s
still monotonous.
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| I didn't stop to take pictures. This was the best I could do. |
I usually listen to Dr. Vernon McGee’s “Through the Bible”
series in the gym – I’m on Malachi for about the fourth time – but for the race
I tried to pick motivational music I could zone out to and maybe pick up the
pace. Seriously, I am slow. My fast walk is only marginally slower than my
running pace. But I plug along and am determined to finish.
Even though I can’t say I really like running, I have
started to look forward to it. It is a fantastic way to get out stress from the
job and whatever else ails you. And it’s made me more of an optimist than
anything else.
Seriously, it has. Since my treadmill maxes out at 60
minutes and it takes me over that to run 10k, my MO is to run for 60 minutes,
then a 5-minute cooldown followed by 30 minutes with another 5-minute cooldown.
If I run, it’s usually somewhere between 12-14 kilometers. I don’t think I’ve
ever cracked 15, at least year.
I watch the timer thing like a hawk, mostly because I
alternate jog/run/walk, usually synchronizing them with the hill level. And I’ve
noticed that since I started, I tend to estimate on the bright side. If it’s
three minutes, my thought process is something like, “Well, three minutes, that’s
practically five, and once I’m at five, it might as well be ten, which is the
same as 15. So basically I’m a quarter of the way through this round.” It’s
totally optimistic.
But gosh, today was not quite like that. We started out on
the Asian side, really just across the bridge. Usually I walked about two
minutes to warm up but started at a jogging pace immediately. Very
appropriately for me, a duet from Jimmy Buffett and Toby Keith called “Sailboat
for Sale.” It was perfect for the day, too, running across the Bosporus on what
became a beautiful, sunny morning.
(When I woke up at 5 a.m. to transport over there, it was dark, chilly and
rainy with North Dakota-like wind.)
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| Still standing at the finish line |
Running got old, though, and even before I got off the
bridge, I had to fall into the fast walk. Some of that, though, was because
there were so many people stopping to takes photos. It was hard to keep any
pace with all the people!
But I did the run/walk/jog thing and got winded really fast.
It had been cold when I dressed and I was wearing a long-sleeve shirt under my
race shirt and I really regretted it. I was berating my decision to do something
so stupid again (OK, this part wasn’t optimistic) and trying to estimate about
how far I’d gone. I figured I was going slower than my usual pace and around
the 30-minute mark I estimated I was maybe 3-4 kilometers in. This was around the
point of a trek that was wonderfully downhill. I’ve never actually run downhill
before and was a little trepidation, in part because I’m a klutz, in part
because there were people everywhere at differing paces and in part because it
was wet and, well, I’m a klutz. I did not want to miss a step and tumble head
over heels.
I realized I could go faster than I was without killing
myself and at some point realized I was comfortable with the speed. I got to
the bottom, listening to some Eric Church music, and saw a marker that said I’d
hit the 5k mark. I was so relieved. It was the first marker I’d seen and it was
totally welcome.
I’d like to say at that point I just hammered on home, but
that’d be a big fat lie. I might be an optimist, but I’m not a liar. I still
drug, and I don’t think from that point on I ran a whole kilometer at one shot,
but I plugged away, trying to keep pace to whatever music I had on.
I’d tried to cull out slower songs and only leave
quick-paced music, but boy, Eric Church is a bit slower than I credited him for.
At about “Springsteen,” I was at a point where I was going to start fumbling
and finding something else, but it ended and “How Do You Like Me Now?!” came
on. Oh, man, that was fairly easy to speed up to.
At the 9k mark, there were more people around watching, and
we crossed the Galata Bridge. (It’s a great place to watch fishermen!) They had
a bunch of people, music so loud I couldn’t even hear “Bonapart’s Retreat,”
which is what came on after Toby Keith for me, and they had lots of people
cheering us on.
I really do like that. I had no idea who those people were,
but all the high-fives and cheers sure helped pump me for the last 300 meters. Yay!
I’m still not going to set any records, but I fought a good fight and finished
the face.
Next year, it’ll be 15k.
