Adventures in CrossFitting

I heart running. So when I saw the 10k listed on the CrossFit main site today, I was a happy girl. I haven't been for a (semi) long run since March, when my brother, sister-in-law, and I all decided that it would be a good idea to suck it up and run the 8k we had signed up for despite the spectacular snowstorm that had happened earlier that morning. Like that lovely day in March, today's weather conditions were not exactly ideal, albeit they were much, much more tolerable. It has been overcast all day (there seems to be a thunderstorm looming; however, it had, and still has, yet to come to the party) and it's kind of cool outside. Regardless, I concluded that I would try to match my 8k time at the state park across the way rather than run 6 times around my neighborhood, which would have amounted to a 10k. I made this decision for three reasons:

I quickly made this decision though (and was quite pleased with it), grabbed my iPod, some water and then took off to hang out with Mother Nature for awhile.

When I showed up at the park, my next big decision was which direction I should take on the trail. If I went right, then I would be running primarily uphill; if I went left, I would be running downhill. Well, I opted for uphill, because I figured that's what the CrossFit gods would have me do (and I figured it would make my legs look better), and then started out on what I thought was a relatively decent pace considering the length of the run, the fact that I was running on gravel and was going to be encountering a number of hills.

I did not check my stopwatch until the very end of the run. Had I, I probably would have picked up the pace, especially towards the end when the long sloping hills were starting to get to me. Instead, there I was just chugging along - zoning out with my iPod, avoiding chipmunks and praying that I wouldn't get caught in a torrential downpour. When I finally came up on my self-proposed finish line, I sprinted ahead and then hit the stop button on my stopwatch; I looked down, excited to see my time. My excitement, however, quickly diminished: 50:38.

Wait.

What?...

I was running 10 minute miles? Since when? When I ran the 8k back in March, I finished in 43:00 (which I wasn't happy with either, mind you, because I was shooting for 40:00), but when I ran the race in March, I had to dodge 13,000 other people, raindrops, ice, slush and puddles whereas today all I had to worry about was having a run in with Alvin, Simon and/or Theodore. Granted, today I was running on an uneven surface and took on several hills, but still… 50:38? I'm embarrassed, even as I write this…

Regardless of my head shaking and tinge of shame, I now have two new missions to add to my list: Improve my 8k time at the park and see what my time would be simply running on pavement. I also think that next time I will invite (or con) someone into coming with me to keep me on pace and to use them as a basis for comparison. Of course I will take volunteers; if you or someone you know would like to go for a little run in the park with me sometime, just let me know. I just can't guarantee that I can (or will) save you from any animals should they attack. Woodland creatures aren't overly fond of me. Just ask the donkey, the bird, the horse, the goat...