I overcame my 15k terror!
I have a thing against doing a 15k. I'm terrified of that particular distance. Which is really stupid because I'm ok doing a 20k . So it makes no sense for me to be afraid of a puny little 15k, right?
It's not even that I don't think I can do it. I know I can.
It's just a bit of PTSD left over from the first time I did a 15k, two years ago.
I've told this story so many times, I think people might be tired of hearing it.
In May 2016, a bit of madness took hold of me and with my whole 226 lb frame I decided to enter a 15k. Not just a 15k. THE 15k. The one named after the most prolific long distance runner this country has ever seen. Granny Luces.
Yes, ya girl entered the Granny Luces 15k. The route was from the Arima Velodrome to La Joya.
I had never done a 15k before.
Actually I had never done a race before. Not even a 5k. That was my first ever race. I had no training. No preparation. Nothing except a desire to challenge myself.
Y'all know how the story goes. I came last. Dead last. More than two hours behind everybody else.
The ambulance got tired of following me and offered me a ride to the finish line.
I told them to go ahead and they left. I finished the race with a friend who stuck with me throughout the whole ordeal.
I walked in to La Joya after midday. The race had started at 7 am. So ya girl took more than 5 bloody hours to get there.
My legs were sore. My whole body was sore. My feet were bruised. The timer had been shut off after three and a half hours so I didn't even get to clock in as having completed the bloody race.
I reached the end just as the prize giving ceremony was wrapping up. People were looking at me like wait, she now reach? I was humiliated.
I swore never to do a race again.
It took me a while to even work up the nerve to do a 5k. I swore I would never do a 15k again.
But here I am, just having completed a 15k. Again.
As the horn went off to start the race, my heart literally fluttered. And as the people around me took off running, I started thinking what the fuck, Camille. Why you doing this shit again? You can't keep up with these runners.
But I kept up with them for a bit. Eventually though, most of them disappeared in the distance. Those showoffy fuckers.
So I already made up my mind to walk most of the race because my body just wasn't built for running for long periods. My boobs are just too big, they bounce all over the place. I make up my mind long time that running is not for me. So I say aiite, walking at a moderate pace, I can finish this fucker in 3 hours. But I didn't want that goddamn ambulance behind me so ya girl ran. Jiggling boobs and all.
That ambulance was not gonna be behind me. Not today, Satan.
The ambulance was my motivation. I didn't want to see that demon vehicle at all, at all, at all. I'm not even running the race at this point. I'm just tryna outrun the ambulance. Well, I can proudly report that the only time I saw the ambulance was at the start of the race. I never saw the thing again. And ya' girl finish the race in 2 hours and 25 minutes.
Yeah, yeah...I ain't break no records.
But the first time I attempted a 15k it took me over 5 hours to complete. So I am embracing my 2 hours, 25 minutes like it's my lover.
I ain't gon' lie. I nearly passed out after mile 7. Ya' girl start to cold sweat. But I made it! I'm not afraid of 15ks anymore. I might even go back to where it all started, the Granny Luces race, next year...
It's not even that I don't think I can do it. I know I can.
It's just a bit of PTSD left over from the first time I did a 15k, two years ago.
I've told this story so many times, I think people might be tired of hearing it.
In May 2016, a bit of madness took hold of me and with my whole 226 lb frame I decided to enter a 15k. Not just a 15k. THE 15k. The one named after the most prolific long distance runner this country has ever seen. Granny Luces.
I had never done a 15k before.
Actually I had never done a race before. Not even a 5k. That was my first ever race. I had no training. No preparation. Nothing except a desire to challenge myself.
Y'all know how the story goes. I came last. Dead last. More than two hours behind everybody else.
The ambulance got tired of following me and offered me a ride to the finish line.
I told them to go ahead and they left. I finished the race with a friend who stuck with me throughout the whole ordeal.
I walked in to La Joya after midday. The race had started at 7 am. So ya girl took more than 5 bloody hours to get there.
My legs were sore. My whole body was sore. My feet were bruised. The timer had been shut off after three and a half hours so I didn't even get to clock in as having completed the bloody race.
I reached the end just as the prize giving ceremony was wrapping up. People were looking at me like wait, she now reach? I was humiliated.
I swore never to do a race again.
It took me a while to even work up the nerve to do a 5k. I swore I would never do a 15k again.
But here I am, just having completed a 15k. Again.
As the horn went off to start the race, my heart literally fluttered. And as the people around me took off running, I started thinking what the fuck, Camille. Why you doing this shit again? You can't keep up with these runners.
But I kept up with them for a bit. Eventually though, most of them disappeared in the distance. Those showoffy fuckers.
So I already made up my mind to walk most of the race because my body just wasn't built for running for long periods. My boobs are just too big, they bounce all over the place. I make up my mind long time that running is not for me. So I say aiite, walking at a moderate pace, I can finish this fucker in 3 hours. But I didn't want that goddamn ambulance behind me so ya girl ran. Jiggling boobs and all.
That ambulance was not gonna be behind me. Not today, Satan.
The ambulance was my motivation. I didn't want to see that demon vehicle at all, at all, at all. I'm not even running the race at this point. I'm just tryna outrun the ambulance. Well, I can proudly report that the only time I saw the ambulance was at the start of the race. I never saw the thing again. And ya' girl finish the race in 2 hours and 25 minutes.
Yeah, yeah...I ain't break no records.
But the first time I attempted a 15k it took me over 5 hours to complete. So I am embracing my 2 hours, 25 minutes like it's my lover.
I ain't gon' lie. I nearly passed out after mile 7. Ya' girl start to cold sweat. But I made it! I'm not afraid of 15ks anymore. I might even go back to where it all started, the Granny Luces race, next year...
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