10k

  Because I’m happy
Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof
Because I’m happy
Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth
Because I’m happy
Clap along if you know what happiness is to you
Because I’m happy
Clap along if you feel like that’s what you wanna do
 - Happy, by Pharrell Williams

My alarm went off at 5:45 a.m. I showered and dressed in running clothes, pulling my hair back and slipping into my tennis shoes. Two of my brothers, ages 17 and 18, met me in the living room, whispering while the rest of the house slept. We pinned our race numbers to our shirts and headed outside to drive to Austin for the annual Statesman Capital 10k.

I ran the race last year by myself, and though I'd do it alone again I was delighted that my brothers were going to run it with me. I say "with me" rather loosely: they are both fast runners, and I knew that they wouldn't want to wait for me. We would run separately, meeting at the finish line.

A biting cold wind greeted us and the thousands of other runners, but at least the rain from that night had stopped. My brothers and I jumped and down to try to keep warm, stretching and moving in anticipation. We agreed on a general place to meet after the race, I visited for a moment with a friend, and then I lost them as we each made me way towards the start line in a sea of people.

The course runs through down-town Austin: across the Congress Street bridge, straight to and past the Capital building, and winding around to again cross the bridge to the finish line. It's a great course, I love it. There's pretty scenery, local bands playing at nearly every mile, and to run with thousands who are either from this area or came here just for this is intoxicatingly motivating. We ran past a huge church which had set out speakers and were blasting the hallelujah chorus. I turned off my iPod so I could listen to the grand hallelujahs filling the air, a shiver of awe running through me.

My time of last year was 58 minutes, so it was goal to beat my time of last year, or at least still make it in under an hour. I kept a look out for my brothers but never saw them. Instead I saw people in various costumes, shirts or papers saying who they were running in honor of, and one elderly woman with a paper pinned to her shirt saying this was her 37th annual 10k.

I kept wanting to stop and walk for a while but I pressed on, the thought of beating last year's time driving me to keep up a steady pace. I love that the course has hills: the uphill is killer, but going downhill, I fly. I let gravity help me regain a faster pace, pumping my legs and letting the slope give me a burst of speed. But it was when the finish line was finally in sight that I really pushed myself. I was gasping, tired, and sore, but people were cheering and the finish line was close so I found my kick. I crossed the line at 55 minutes, 3 minutes faster than last year. I was exhausted but happy. I've never understood the whole runners high thing: my high is simply the accomplishment of finishing, the happy rush of pushing and succeeding.

I looked around for my brothers for a long time without success. There were long lines of people waiting to get free water and snacks. There were roaming photographers and more live music. The chill wind cooled my sweat and made me shiver. Finally my brothers and I found each other and they said something I never expected: "Yeah, we think you finished before us." What?! We checked our times and they were right: I beat them by one minute. I tried not to make a big deal of it, but secretly I was ecstatic. My brothers and I got snacks and then went and got free sports massages under a table set up without about ten massage beds and therapists who asked where to focus. Again I was pleasantly surprised and happy that my brothers immediately agreed to get a massage with me, and commented on how much better they felt afterwards.

When we finished, it was sleeting. We ran through the rain several blocks back to our car. Walking through the parking garage, we all agreed: we wanted to hear the song "Happy". It was perfectly appropriate, for even though we were sweaty and shivering, it summed up exactly how we felt. Finished and happy. Driving to the apartment of another brother who lived close by, so we could shower and go get lunch together, we finally found the song on the radio and cranked it up. It was time to celebrate. We were happy.