Terminal Velocity

Another national holiday, another 5k.

As with humbling experience #1 and humbling experience #2, 2009's humbling experience #3 involved running. I'm sure this is God's subtle way of telling me to find a different hobby.

As a side note, to keep my legions of fans (now up to almost ten--a shout out to Renae, who joined us last week, and the IMC Nursery Nurses, who may only be forced to read because of my biggest fan, my sister-in-law, but who still laugh in all the right places) happy, I have to sometimes reveal things about myself that I would otherwise not care to admit to. Especially if it makes a good story.

So here goes.

Deep breath...

Hi. My name is Sandra. I'm 28 years old and today, I lost ALL bladder control while running. And not just running a neighborhood jaunt at 6:00 in the morning when all sane people are inside, still in bed, but rather during the annual 4th of July 5k that precedes the parade in which THOUSANDS of people have lined up to watch.

While there would be some redemption in saying that I peed my pants in the final .10 miles as I was battling it out for first place, there is definitely no glory in admitting that it was within the first quarter mile, while trying to maintain a seven minute pace on the downhill--far from the sub-six minute pace that the winners were running.

I can say, now from experience, that it is extremely uncomfortable to run roughly 2.85 miles in soggy shorts and pee soaked socks.

In years past, the weather was hot enough that houses on the route would turn on their sprinklers to cool off the runners since it's a relatively late start time (8:30) for July. This would've been ideal because then I could (a) wash off and (b) make it look like I ran through sprinklers instead of peed my pants. Alas, today, the weather was a perfect 70 degrees. Not hot enough to warrant sprinklers, but definitely perfect to be running in. If you haven't peed yourself.

At the first water station, I ceremoniously dumped the cup of water on my head--as though it were 90 degrees and I was going to overheat if I had to go any further--in a futile attempt to make it look like my shorts were suppose to be wet. The shock of the cold water took my breath away, making it that much harder to run.

I crossed the line at an incredibly respectful 28:10, my fastest 5k EVER by over a minute and a whooping 5+ minutes faster than 2 weeks ago, but I'm positive that I could've beat 28 minutes had I not peed on myself. Oh the shame.

Thinking back, I do not recall having an overwhelming need to pee before the race began. In fact, there was no call to nature even as the event was unfolding. It wasn't until I was hitting those hills at a 7 minute pace that I realized I had reached terminal bladder velocity. As in, this is how fast I could slam the pavement and still maintain my diginity. Terminal bladder velocity was probably about 30 seconds slower than that. But by then, the damage was done and I had to keep up the pace so that any sprinkles felt by those nearby could be attributed to sweat and not, actually, loss of bladder control.

Go ahead. Laugh at my expense.