The Ukrop’s Monument Avenue 10k in Richmond, Virginia was held on April 14. Named one of the best races in the country by USA Today and with over 25,000 participants the Monument 10k’s mission is to inspire people from all corners of the community to live actively. Here’s my personal mile-by-mile experience at the Monument 10k:
Pre-race Jitters
Each day leading up to the race, I felt completely fine. I was not nervous because I had trained, but at the same time, I was not excited because I had not trained nearly enough. My goal was to finish, and I felt fairly confident in my ability to do so.
I woke up the morning of the race with a tad bit more pep in my step. I felt energized and proud to have raised over $300 for cancer research. I reminded myself that there are people struggling with cancer everyday that lack the strength to run a 10k but do not lack the will.
I approached the start line apprehensive and scared by the thought of passing out or pulling a muscle, though my biggest fear was walking the race. I knew I could run the entire 6.2 miles and would be disappointed in myself if I chose to walk any of it. I was determined to do my best and to run my best race.
Mile One
It was warm, but breezy. I started at a comfortable pace, one which I could maintain the entire race if need be. I felt strong; I managed to breathe only through my nose for the majority of the first mile. My goal for this mile was to conserve energy; I knew miles five and six would test me physically but more so mentally.
Mile Two
It seemed as if the inflammation in my left knee almost had a numbing effect. It definitely didn’t feel healthy, but it was no longer tempting me to stop or slow down. Unexpectedly, this was my strongest mile. I say, “unexpectedly,” because it had always been my worst mile during training.
I remember being alert and focused, bobbing and weaving between and in front of people with a long stride and with the wind and sun to my back. This feeling of freedom is the reason I run and propelled me into the next mile.
Mile Three
My tank was 3/4ths full. I was tired but felt resilient. Although the sun was now beating down on face and shade was scarce, the occasional breeze reminded me of my love for running. As the wind brushed past my skin and through my clothes, I closed my eyes and caught it; I let it sweep my mind away as it carried me uphill. I was becoming tired but the enjoyable kind of tire. I like to compare the feeling to the enjoyable soreness experienced after lifting weight; the feeling reminds me of the work I put in to get this far.
Mile Four
The race was became less and less fun with each step. I could feel the pain in my knee again. The wind gave out on me, and I was only at mile four. I used montras, looked at every encouraging sign posted by spectators and blasted my music. I was doing everything I could to keep going.
“Chest up, Lex,” I said to myself to remind myself this was necessary to breathe more efficiently and necessary to complete my race. Still, I struggled and wished this was a 5k instead.
Mile Five
“Where is the mile marker?????” I was desperate to finish, exhausted and annoyed that I never saw the marker that indicated I had reached mile five. Maybe I saw it, but it just didn’t register. Regardless, this was not good for my psyche.
I was ready to walk, to give up on my goal and stop completely, but I saw a little girl sitting next to a sign that read, “YOU’RE ALMOST THERE!”
The sign was right. I was almost there, and I didn’t want to disappoint myself.
Part of me wanted to look back to see if I had passed anyone from the prior wave, but I heard my boyfriend’s voice in my head, “Don’t look back. There’s nothing back there for you. Run your own race.” I didn’t look back once, and I was proud of that.
Mile Six
I was on autopilot. Honestly, I don’t remember a whole lot about how I felt or what I was thinking. I was just trying to finish.
Post-Race:
The runner’s high set in, and I have never been more proud of myself. I finished the race with a time of 1:03:27. I maintained a pace of about 00:10:31 throughout the race. My family met me at the finish line so proud and eager to congratulate me. My race wasn’t in vain. I was able to push through and reach the end. So many others are facing much greater challenges as they battle cancer; the least I could do was raise money and make my miles matter. Â
Image Source: Oshane Thomas