2012 Gasparilla Virtual Finisher's Certificates

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The day that was ...

With a mere five hours of sleep, I dragged myself out of bed at 5:15am on Gasparilla (Saturday) morning. I did have the foresight to check out parking, layout my clothes/running gear and boil some eggs the night before. Even with preparation, the morning went by quickly. Of course, my system was working overtime too with three separate trips to the bathroom before heading downtown …

I ate two hard boiled eggs and two slices of wheat toast en route. A couple of pieces of lemon candies were wedged in my bra for the race. Lemon works well to settle my upset stomach and give a slight sugar boost.

Once parked, I went to the bathroom one more time before the starting gun fired.

It was 6:45am when I made my way to Bayshore.

I always try to be in place for the “National Anthem,” but it didn’t happen on Saturday. There’s just something about the song that gives me goose bumps and I proudly sing along.

My late arrival placed me pretty near the back of the pack for the start. I asked a fellow runner to take a few pre-race pictures of me then …

Pop!

The wheelchair race was underway and I was next.

I toiled with the decision of what to listen to during the race—Pandora and suffer through tunes that I don’t like or my “Freakonomics” or “This American Life” podcasts.

The freak won out. I like economics and the hosts have a way of making everyday stuff interesting. I learned about the science of food, the $ behind the NFL lockout and pain—how timely was that?

The pace of “Freakonomics” probably didn’t help my running pace, but with full sun and rising temps I wasn’t trying to break a record. Finishing in an upright position suited me just fine.

Within the first two miles I came up on Allison. We ran together for a few steps and then I spotted a port-a-potty. If you lost count, that was the fifth pee since waking at 5:15am and I didn’t even drink a lot.

Nerves. All nerves.

The first leg heading was pretty good. I maintained my run a ½ mile, walk for a minute pace.

As I approached Gandy Blvd., I thanked God for the shaded neighborhoods in Ballast Pointe.

It was downhill from there.

The sun on Bayshore was brutal. A decent breeze, but not enough to dry the sweat that kept dripping into my eyes.

Water stations served two purposes—hydration on the inside and cooling off on the offside.

My run a 1/2 mile, walk a minute pace stretched out to walk when needed. I still maintained the one minute walk break, it just came more frequently.

About this time, “Freakonomics” stopped working. Correction, it played just fine, but wasn’t enough to distract me from the heat, hunger and overall displeasure with the conditions.

Mile 6

An easy 5k to go … Eat a lemon candy.

Mile 7

Less than two miles … Have a sports drink.

Mile 8

The homestretch … Eat another lemon candy.

Mile 9

I see the finish line.

In classic Natalie style, I pick up the pace a bit and without fail this triggers wheezing. I get so excited with my accomplishment and focused on finishing strong that breathing becomes a challenge.

I manage to pull it together and slow my breathing, but not before a few tears trickle down.

Crossing the finish line is a major milestone for me—even more so than my first half-marathon. Unlike two years ago, for this race I had so many responsibilities competing for my training time. Nonetheless, once my colleagues and I committed to Gasparilla, I followed the mantra of Tim Gunn on “Project Runway” and made it work.

Be it running at 9:30pm on a weekday or five miles with Luke in the jogger—I made it happen and my reward was footsteps away.

Even with the heat, hunger and frequent walk breaks, I still managed to finish with a better time than my training indicated.

My clothes were soaked from a combination of sweat and dousing with water. I collected my finishers metal and breezed through the post-race party.

Sadly, I didn’t see any colleagues so I made my way to my truck.

En route, I found the CAMLS building that we frequently receive e-mails about … I also found the urge to use the bathroom again. Only this time, a port-a-potty would simply not do!

So, I hit the upper deck of the Selmon Expressway and high tailed it home. Thanks , Sam, for talking to me the entire way and distracting me from my overactive system J

Thanks to everyone else for the accountability texts, Monday morning updates, weekday runs and the opportunity to commit to something that was such an important part of my past. I hope this experience (re)ignited the desire to run more in all of us.

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t give a shout out to my training partner for long runs. There were few Sunday mornings that you missed. Be it hot, cold, windy or calm you were right there with me—begging for treats, waving to cars and triggering just as many bathroom breaks as me!

Thanks, Lukey Luke!

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