Disclaimer: I DID NOT run the Tar Heel 10 Miler. It is a race I absolutely love and adore and run almost every year, but this year, it just wasn’t going to happen. SL has done a great job of turning “training days” into “reigning days”- meaning, she reigns and I listen. But I knew I could eek out the Fleet Foot 4 miler, plus Laurel Hill is included (good thing? bad thing? still not sure) so I just signed up for it and told Matt that I was going to voluntarily wake up at 4 a.m. and go run in Chapel Hill.

There are so many things I love about the Tar Heel 10 miler, but my favorite is easily the fact that it’s such a comfortable race. 10 really might be the perfect number, and the race attracts so many different people- from serious runners interested in a fast training course, to novice run/walkers who know the pace time will allow them to finish in a reasonable amount of time. Plus it starts early- 7:30 a.m.- so you can be at Sunrise Biscuit before 10 if you’re organized.

We had it planned out. I would wake up early and head over there. Matt and SL would follow as soon as she woke up (usually around 6:30) and they would meet me at the finish line. It was going to be one of those Hallmark movie quality scenes- me running across triumphantly as my infant daughter waves/speaks/claps/does something besides look for dogs. It was going to be beautiful. And the start of the morning was beautiful. Temperature was perfect and projected to be around 60. I got up on time, shockingly, considering that Sweet Pea lost it at about 12:30 a.m. and only wanted one person in her life. I ate a snack and my colleague and friend Ginnie swung by to pick me up. Originally I was going to drive and we were just going to use two cars but Friday afternoon I found out Ginnie was running the 10 and she kindly offered to take me there.

So Ginnie picks me up and we head to Chapel Hill. It had been well over a year since I had had a race morning and I have to say I still love/hate them. Getting up so early it feels like you didn’t go to bed- hate. Anticipating finishing a race and eating pancakes- Love.  Having someone to talk to on the way over- Really Love. We got there and PARKED. Now, in past years this has been a serious issue but I will say they got it right this year.  The last time Matt and I ran the 10 miler, we were running towards Kenan as the National Anthem was being sung. This was much more pleasant. We actually had a surprising amount of time to kill pre race. So we walked around, and talked about campus and I kind of sort of played around with stretching (normally I don’t before a race).

Then, it was time to go. I said a quick prayer and thought about my goals. Which were: 1. To finish. and 2. To finish before the 10 miler people started coming in. I mean, it’s 4 miles. I used to do 4 miles on an easy day.  And when we started I remembered how it felt to run easy. But only until we crossed the actual start line, which is when things began to move a little faster than I like- literally. I found myself in a mad dash down South Road, past the gym, the Intramural fields, and down that ginormous hill heading towards 15-501. When we hit Mile 1, the winner was looping back through the neighborhood, on his own mad dash, followed by police officers and…no one else. I picked up my feet a little more.

It was almost weird to be running so early in the morning, baby free, and knowing that I could do whatever I wanted with this race. The main goal, as it is every year, was to run the whole way up Laurel Hill. Here is a chart of the elevation of Laurel Hill:

I’m actually not really sure how useful that chart is, but aren’t the colors really interesting looking?  Anyway, each year I set out to run the whole way up Laurel Hill after the first year of running the race. The first year I was probably 200 yards in and realized I couldn’t do it without my heart exploding or something.  This year, I hit the bottom of the hill with plenty of energy (cutting out those extra miles really helps with that).  And I started to climb. There was a man playing an alphorn. I tried and failed to get a photo of him, but imagine this during a race:

It was awesome. And surprisingly energizing. Fantasizing about being in Switzerland helped push me up the incline, and I felt…FINE. Completely fine. When I hit the top I got a second burst of energy and realized I could keep on going.  Would you like to know why? Because I was RUNNING WITHOUT A STROLLER. It takes away about 30 pounds and boom. You’re flying- or at least feel like you’re flying.
So when I crossed the finish line, I was on cloud nine. And in a way it got better as I looked around and realized that my family hadn’t even arrived yet. That’s how ahead of the game I was.

Since race day, I have run a total of 4 times, slipping out after Sweet Pea was sleeping and on Mother’s Day for a solo run. But I went ahead and signed up for 2015. 1) Because I’m a sucker, and 2) Because next year the stroller will weigh like 50 pounds, so I should speed by every other runner out there on Laurel Hill. Disclaimer: SELFIE below.