At BlogHer09, there was a 5K that I fully intended to run. I had the best intentions, but after about 5 minutes of running I slowed to a walk. I tried a couple more intervals of running, but none lasted even 3 minutes. I simply wasn’t in good enough shape to run the full course yet. (But I did complete it by walking!)

So when the BlogHer10 5K was announced, I knew I had to do better this time. I started training for Couch to 5K again (remember, as of BlogHer I was only starting week 7!) and vowed that while it may be too soon to run a full 5K, I was going to run more than walk this year.

To further add purpose to the run, it was announced that the 5K would be partnering with Tutus for Tanner. I continued training while picking out the perfect tulle to make my tutu.

And then last Tuesday came, and I packed my Brooks running shoes, tutu, and princess Bondi Band (great sweat band!) into my suitcase for New York. I was nervous, wondering if everyone would pass me by in the run. I specifically signed up for the earliest time slot – both to get it over with before it got too hot, and to make sure I wasn’t the last person dragging my sorry butt across the finish line. I had at least 45 minutes over the final group of runners.

Thursday night of BlogHer was filled with parties, and I wore my stunning black & white dress and heels. What I didn’t count on was that my comfy heels wouldn’t be so comfy this year, and when I got back to my hotel room I discovered that the tops of both little toes were nothing but giant blisters. Worse: I discovered this when I dragged my foot across the carpet and tore one of them open. Ouch.

I woke early on Friday morning – 5K day – feeling dry mouthed, underslept and sore. As I swung my legs out of bed and placed my feet on the floor, I knew the pain was coming before I even put any weight on my feet. And oh how it hurt when I stood! My roommate Amelia suggested that running may not be the best option for me with feet like that, and I understood her concern. These feet were in no condition to run.

But I guzzled half a Pepsi Max, ate a zucchini muffin and took some pain meds to dull the sensation as I wrapped two bandaids around my little toes. I winced as I pulled on my running shoes, limping across the room to fetch my tutu. I didn’t come all this way to not run. Pain be damned, I was going to do this.

Hobbling down to the lobby, I met up with the other early morning runners, also outfitted in their tutus. We got a map of our path through Central Park, posed for a few photos, and then walked outside to begin our journey.

I was expecting a 5 minute walk to warm-up, like I usually do. But when we crossed our first street, Jenna said, “Let’s go!” and started jogging. I had a momentary pause, as I’m sure my eyes bugged out of my head, but then with a small hop I shifted into a slow jog. My feet screamed in agony, but I just turned up my music to tune them out.

As we reached the edge of Central Park, we paused momentarily to check the map. Once we were certain we knew the way, we were back to running. The park was blissfully shaded, although no amount of cover could block out the humidity as we made our way through the soupy air, our tutus gracefully flowing around us.

Our pack ran on the sidewalk until we came to a point in the road where the sidewalk disappeared. We paused again – this time for about 2 minutes – as we tried to get our bearings and determine which way was the right way to go. Comparing the map with the iPhone GPS, we decided that turning left was the correct path, forcing us to now merge with the (surprising number of) runners and bikers on the road.

I somehow thought the bike lane was supposed to be reserved for those on bicycles, but it seemed that the runners had control of this lane while the bikes shared the road with cars. I was a little nervous of joining other runners in the lane. After all – I wasn’t a runner, right? I was just pretending to be one for a day, wearing my sparkly tutu and faking my best smile as I huffed down the road.

We were somewhere around mile 1 at this point. My feet no longer ached. I had reached that lovely state of numb that I seek out when I run, and I settled into keeping that state by distracting myself with anything around me. Jenna and I compared our running music – showtunes at the moment for her, Lady Gaga for me. We waved as cyclists sped past, yelling “Looking good!” at us. Police officers and tourists gawked at the parade of tutus running past them.

My pack – Jenna, Kari (yes, the woman who runs half marathons!!), and Nicole – all stayed with me despite my slow pace. As we reached a hill, I was finally forced to walk for a minute, and everyone was kind enough to slow and walk with me. My neighborhood at home is fairly flat – hills were a new challenge for me. I had to walk again during a second hill. But we kept motivating each other and our running pace would soon resume as we continued through the park.

Eventually other tutus caught up with us (I said I was slow), and our pack grew in number as we reached the edge of Central Park again. I was dripping in sweat, breathing hard, and totally ready for my cool down walk. But as we crossed the street to the first city block, the pack again took off. I refused to be left behind, so I reached way down into my mental reserve and vowed to keep going. I’ve never been so thankful for red lights in my life as I gasped for breath while waiting for the light to change to cross the street.

And then – just like that – we were at the hotel again and it was over. Carmen was there to greet us as we went upstairs to the BlogHer 5K breakfast, and it felt a little odd that it was already over.

I didn’t run the entire 5K, but aside from a couple of walk breaks, I ran most of it. And that totally rocks. Not only did I run the majority of a 5K, proving that my body CAN change and adapt, I also helped bring awareness to an important cause, and I developed a closer bond with my running mates.

I want to thank Jenna, Kari and Nicole for keeping me going as we ran through Central Park. Peer pressure may not be the best motivator, but because all of you were still running, you made me want to keep running. And I want to thank my roomie, Amelia, who had to walk most of the 5K due to being very, very sick (and probably shouldn’t have even walked), because even though she felt miserable, she showed amazing determination to go through with it anyway.

Next year? Oh yeah, I’m running the entire 5K for sure.

(Full disclosure: Other than the 5K breakfast, sponsored by Pepsi Co, any product mentioned here was purchased by me at full price because I’m lousy at finding a good sale.)

After my spectacular fail at running two eight-minute intervals on Sunday, I set out to do it again last night. It was still hot and humid, but the benefit of the evening is that I don’t have rays of sunshine burning into me. It wasn’t quite sunset yet, but with the threat of rain moving in, I didn’t have the luxury of waiting until dark.

I’ve realized that I’m a perfectionist, and being unable to complete that run on Sunday really upset me. I carry failure with me far longer than I carry success. Last night’s five-minute warm-up walk was spent trying to battle the doubt in my head, wondering if I had hit the maximum I was capable of, wondering if it was really just a crazy idea to think I could ever be a runner when my body is far more acclimated to a chair and a desk. But then the C25K app dinged – telling me to run – and I said What the hell, let’s do it right this time.

Here’s the cool part, though: as I was just starting that first run, I turned a corner and noticed a double rainbow up in the sky. It wasn’t raining anywhere around me, but there they were – two bands of color against a dark cloud. I immediately thought of Nathan Fillion’s double rainbow tweets, and the silly double rainbow YouTube video those tweets are based around. If double rainbow equates to interstellar awesome, then this was a sign that I was going to make it through this run.

The first eight-minute run was tough, just like last time, but I managed it. Then the second interval started, and I was immediately flooded with worry and doubt again. I tried to push it out of my head, focus on the music, look for the now-faded rainbows, but I couldn’t shake it.

With three minutes left to run, full exhaustion hit. I was losing steam and I knew it. Pushing hard, I decided that I was going to do this, no excuses. A minute and a half left, and I started to feel sick. You can vomit after the interval is complete, I told myself. One minutes left, and I reminded myself You can do anything for one little minute.

And then that calm male voice from the C25K app came through my headphones: Cooldown. I did it. I was weak all over, I was gasping for breath, I still felt like vomiting (but didn’t), and I could barely see through the sweat in my eyes, but I did it.

I ran for two eight-minute intervals. One more milestone achieved.