My FIRST race.

 Sorry to disappoint but I do not expect my race preparation techniques to feature in a Running magazine any time soon. The morning of the race I undid the knot in my elasticised running pants so they fit and tried to tuck in as much back fat into my sports bra as possible to close the straps. The night before I ate copious amounts of pizza. The week before I did no training as I was too busy making home brew and getting slightly tipsy on the tastings. Three months before the race I managed to squeeze in five runs. All in two weeks before the race. My children were more excited than me and were expecting me to win a trophy. The only thing I knew for sure is that they would be disappointed.

I could face this potentially humiliating race if I could find someone equally as ridiculous to do it with me. My one and only running partner, Gazelle had abandoned me to return back to university, taking any training motivation with me. Many requests were rejected. However, I did find one willing, brave soul who prefers to be unnamed and henceforth will be referred to as P. She too had not run all summer and before that only ever on a treadmill. Then I gave my attitude a major overhaul.

If someone had said to me last August (while I was laboriously running my ten steps and then recuperating by walking ten steps for a total of ten minutes) that one year later I would run a 5k race I would have told them to “tell 'em their dreaming!” Here I am one year later about it do it. That alone is an accomplishment and something to celebrate. One year later I am a runner who is still running (never mind that it is sporadic because really when does life ever go to plan.) No, if I was going to run this race it would be with a spirit of joyfulness and gratitude - gosh darn-it!

I always knew the Butter Trail run would be the perfect first race for me. It is a beautiful, peaceful trail. The race is small (120 people registered, half doing the 5km and half doing the 10km). The $40 registration fee is a fund raiser for the local recreation centre. Asking for donations just ain't my style. I admire and respect the race director, Jennifer Langille, who is humble and gracious. There is free child care. Fortunately, the weather was 16 Celsius, slight breeze, with just enough cloud cover to keep the sun off. You couldn't even pre-order better weather. The best part of all (besides the race t-shirt and goody bag) is that you can pin your race number to hide any jiggly belly fat.

Standing at the starting line was rather nerve racking. Truth be told I was a tad emotional too. I hoped P didn't notice. Mostly surrounded by all these rather serious, fit people fiddling with their gadgets and gizmo’s. I still wasn't sure what my running time would even be having never timed myself before.  The starting gun fires.

The locals came out of their houses with lawn chairs to cheer us on. I always run alone so I get such a happy buzz running with other people, and for awhile I just soak it in. I also get talkative which is hardly surprising. Any excuse really! I remember my friend Nicola in Scotland saying during her first marathon she just gave up and started socialising. At the time I thought she was bonkers and wondered how that could possibly happened but now I understand. There is such a party atmosphere and a huge sense of camaraderie. I start yapping to P. “I can't talk!” she puffs at me. Then we hit the killer hill.

My one and only expectation I had of myself was to run the whole way. Even if it meant I could get a faster time walking I still wanted to run it. People pulled their cars up into the park with music blasting to encourage us. Half way through the race I find myself running alongside a woman in her sixties and for awhile we ran together, matching step to step. Some sort of magical runners synergy takes place and when she pulled away ahead of me, I felt a better runner because of it. I hope anyone that runs with me leaves feeling the same way. I realise that any fears I have of competitiveness have been vanquished. I have never felt less competitive than when I running this race. I ran using everything I learned along the way mudras, meditations, mantras. Most of all I ran with joy and gratitude that I can.  A lone Bagpiper appeared on the trail at the final kilometre. Nova Scotia; the only place more Scottish than Scotland they say; it is true.

Seeing the finish line  my heart fills with joy and I remember how I always thought I would cross the finish line with a cartwheel, if I ever ran a race. Hopefully my children will get a kick out of it and it will distract them from the aforementioned trophy. I finish how I ran the whole race; running and smiling. I cross the finish line. I cartwheel.

I originally thought it was really important to me to have my family at the finish line, so at first it was mere surprise when they were not there. I took a few moments to reflect and realised that this is best possible way to finish my first race. Alone. Running has been a very spiritual, personal journey for me. It was meant to be. My husband can be absolved of any guilt. He wasn't at the finish line with kids because he did not imagine I could run it that fast. Still pissed the children missed the cartwheel though!

I do not feel that it is in the spirit of this blog to reveal my race time. However I appreciate the curiosity and interest so if you wish, look for Julia Morton in the Butter Trail 2012 race results. Some race photo can be found at Running with Spirit Facebook page.

P finished with a really inspiring time and should be proud of herself for her sheer bravery and guts. She is already trying to convince me to take part in another race in October. My original plan was to run one race a year. But there was one element of racing I did not expect; it is FUN. Will see.