Run:fail

Everybody loves a good Cinderella story. Movies like "The Blind Side" and "Hoosiers" were so popular because we all enjoy seeing athletes overcome the odds to achieve their dreams. They push through, defy the odds, and finish strong.

This is not one of those stories.

After two months of training for a 5K at the end of this month, I decided to participate in a fun run on campus this morning to gear up for the big race in two weeks. I've been running about 3.5 miles on the treadmill a few times a week at 6 mph. I've been running outside when possible to acclimate to pounding the pavement. I gave myself two days off from exercise so that I wouldn't be over-tired. I didn't drink my morning Diet Coke today, instead opting for lots of water to eliminate the lactic acid in my muscles.

In short, I was rested, relaxed, and ready.

I was a bit intimidated when I realized that I was the oldest racer by at least 15 years. But when the run began and I passed three girls who are too young to legally purchase alcohol, I began to feel more confident in my training and preparation.

I finished the first mile in a mere 9 minutes, passing on the water station and planning my Facebook status to celebrate my victory over a 30-minute 5K. I felt invincible. I felt confident.

Wait a minute... I feel sick.

As the course began winding through the woods, I found myself in solitude with just my breath and iPod for company. I'm used to the second mile being the most challenging, but usually I can push through and get past it. At 1.5 miles I began to get stomach cramps. At 1.75 miles I began to feel dizzy. Then I puked on the 2-mile marker.

Luckily no one was around to witness my running failure. Defeated, I removed my runner's bib and snuck back to my car without finishing the race.

Then I drove to the downtown coffee house to buy a double chocolate muffin. Because that's what fat girls do.

I'm not sure why I failed. Likely I started off too fast, got too cocky, and tried too hard to pretend I'm 20 years younger. After all, it takes a lot of energy to lift my massive thighs. Perhaps I should have eaten this morning, but if I had, I'd have thrown up more than just water.

What can I say? I have the soul of a runner and the thighs of a wrestler. But I shall not give up. This fat girl will finally finish a 5K. Someday.