The Love Your Body Resolution is a biweekly series dedicated to loving + respecting your body. For more LYB Resolution posts, visit the archive.
For those of you who were following along with my 8K training adventures, sorry it’s taken awhile to post a recap of the race itself! For all of you who are new, I have two things to say:
The picture above is the best illustration I could ask for of my experience running the Shamrock Shuffle 8K in downtown Chicago. Jenn, Eileen and I all trained independently (or didn’t train, as weather allowed!) but ran together the day of the race. I couldn’t have asked for a better first race experience than running with two friends–blogging friends!–who kept me motivated from the time we started in icy, snowy January to our actual run together in March. If you’re in the mood for a long recap and some more photos…well, I’ve got the post for you.
My whole body was humming with nerves from our 6:00am wakeup to our 9:15am start time. This was my first race ever and the first competitive athletic event I’d been a part of since high school crew (unless you count Greek Week Tug of War in college). It was the exact feeling I had before every regatta: thrilled to be outside, ravenous for competition and yet terrified of both success and failure. I forced myself to choke down an egg and half a sweet potato for breakfast but could barely taste either.
From a logistical standpoint, the race was impeccably organized, especially considering that 40,000 participants were present in addition to all the volunteers and spectators. Usually I’m not one for huge crowds, but the positive atmosphere and sunshine on race day kept things feeling pretty laid back. Jenn, Eileen and I took the El (train) and got there early enough to drink some water, stroll through the after-party area and take a zillion bathroom breaks before we were ready to start.
We entered our start corral around 9:00am with approximately one gazillion other runners, and our whole group moved as a blob up towards the start line. It was clear that plenty of people were running with friends or family members, and there was an air of camaraderie throughout the morning. The start was more anticlimactic than I expected: all of the sudden the blob slowly started to pick up speed and I figured the race had begun.
I’ve never seen downtown Chicago more beautiful than it was the day of the race. Winding through city streets without a care for traffic or other pedestrians allowed me to fully admire the buildings as the sun bounced off the thousands of windows. I usually prefer running somewhere quiet and peaceful, like the forest preserve where I used to live, but somehow running with 40,000 people felt that way on this morning. Spectators were cheering, volunteers were shouting directions, and I was looking every which way like an excitable puppy, but I had a strange feeling of serenity all the same. It again reminded me of crew and racing in pale morning sun, swinging out evenly along with seven other rowers, making every movement as a team. Even though this race was individual, I felt that same sense of support from the other runners and the amazing spectators holding signs for strangers along the course. (Did I tear up at multiple encouraging signs for moms and dads, held by adorable children? Yes. Yes I did. And then I pulled it together because NO TEARS ON RACE DAY!)
I felt completely exhilarated at the start and I absolutely would have shot off like a cork if it weren’t for my more experienced running partners. My nerves completely melted away once we began and were replaced by pure energy as we ran through the Loop. I thought the exuberance would fade after the first adrenaline-fueled mile, but this amazing sensation kept up for the whole race. I felt strong, steady and powerful–and it was a great feeling.
The three of us ran together for the first three or so miles, and then the crowd of runners suddenly got thicker with 5k finishers and it grew harder to stay together. Eventually it seemed smarter to meet up at the finish line, so I stopped looking around and just started running. As much fun as it was to run together, it was invigorating in another way to fend for myself. I kept pushing myself to go faster and faster, and when I look at the time I can tell that my last mile was my fastest despite the hill right before the finish line.
I finished the race feeling incredibly proud, since 8K/5 miles was the longest distance I’ve ever run–booya! It was fun hearing my name over the loudspeaker as I ran past the finish line, and I’ve got to say that it was fun drinking my celebratory beer after the race. (As much as I poo-pooed Michelob Ultra beforehand, a very light drink was wonderfully refreshing.) We all ran through the finish line and met up with spectator boyfriends at gear check to check out the after-party/concert area and then head on to brunch.
The most predictable part of my finish was that as soon as I finished, I wanted to do it again. I knew I could run a lot faster and I wanted to keep trying and keep proving to myself how resilient and strong my body really is. Everyone had warned me about the race addiction and I had laughed it off, but there were so many things I loved about training for and running the Shamrock Shuffle:
* I got to see my city in a way I never had before. * I had a concrete goal to run towards, which kept me motivated to work out regularly and to challenge myself. * I learned about prioritizing health and preparing my body to work out in tangible, practical ways. * I had amazing running buddies, even from afar, who inspired me every time I laced up. I also had amazing support from you guys who read and commented on my training posts and pictures! * Running with spectators! If you are reading this and you have ever been there to cheer someone on during a race, especially if you came with a goofy sign or vuvuzela or earsplitting yell, you rule. * The incredibly satisfying tiredness I felt after the race and the next day. I knew I had really pushed myself, and that’s something I want to keep doing.
And for my official I-did-it acceptance speech, I’d like to thank Eileen for suggesting that we run an 8K out of the blue (and for all pictures here except the top one), Jenn for flying out from Montana to do it with us, everyone who was so supportive in comments here and on Twitter as I bumbled through training, the two handsome dudes who met us at the finish line, all of the wonderful race volunteers, and most importantly, the random girl holding the “run b-tches!” sign on the final hill. That one gave me a wheezy laugh during the final half mile.
While we’re on the topic of running, a few bloggers suggested meeting up in Chicago or somewhere in the Midwest for a race next year! I would love to combine a race, possibly with a run/walk option so everyone could join, with an informal blog “conference” (I’m making giant air quotes because I just mean drinking coffee and chatting, though I can DIY a mean photobooth backdrop) in late 2014 or early 2015. If you might be interested, shoot me an email and we can get brainstorming!
Have you run any fun races that you’d recommend? I think I might go for a 10K next but I haven’t picked one out just yet…
Training for the 8K: The Plan, the Reality, and the Lessons
After I signed up for the Shamrock Shuffle back in January, I knew I needed a structured plan to get from zero running base to 5 miles by March. I found a beginner-friendly 8K training schedule online and adapted it to fit my life and the unpredictable Chicago winter. The plan called for three runs per week, plus two days of cross-training and two rest days. On paper, it looked simple; in reality, icy sidewalks and sub-zero temperatures often forced me onto the treadmill or into indoor cycling classes. I learned quickly that flexibility was key—if a run didn't happen as planned, I didn't beat myself up. Instead, I focused on getting in the miles when I could and respecting what my body was telling me on any given day.
A typical week looked something like this:
- Monday: Rest or gentle stretching
- Tuesday: Easy 2-mile run (outdoors if possible, treadmill otherwise)
- Wednesday: Cross-training—stationary bike or yoga
- Thursday: Interval run (e.g., 1 minute fast, 1 minute easy, repeat for 20 minutes)
- Friday: Rest
- Saturday: Long run, starting at 3 miles and building up to 5 miles by race week
- Sunday: Active recovery—walk or light yoga
The long run was both the most physically demanding and the most mentally challenging. Early on, I dreaded those Saturday miles, but as the weeks progressed, I began to look forward to the quiet time on the trail or the rhythmic hum of the treadmill. I realized that training for an 8K wasn't just about physical preparation; it was about proving to myself that I could stick with something, even when it felt hard.
For more on my running journey and other ways I'm practicing self-love through movement, check out the Love Your Body Resolution archive.
Fueling and Hydration: What Worked on Race Day
One of the biggest lessons I learned during training was to respect the importance of proper fueling and hydration. On race morning, I choked down an egg and half a sweet potato—not because I was hungry (nerves had completely suppressed my appetite) but because I knew my body needed the energy. I had practiced this exact breakfast before several long runs to make sure it sat well, and that consistency paid off. I also made sure to drink water regularly in the two days leading up to the race, rather than chugging a gallon the morning of, which would have led to unnecessary bathroom stops.
During the race, I relied on the aid stations rather than carrying my own water. Even though I didn't feel thirsty, I took small sips at each station, especially as the sun came out and the temperature rose. Post-race, the Michelob Ultra was refreshing, but I also made sure to refuel with a balanced brunch that included protein, carbs, and some healthy fats. Here are the key fuel and hydration tips I'll carry into my next race:
- Never try new foods or drinks on race day—test everything during training.
- Eat a light, easily digestible breakfast 2–3 hours before the start.
- Hydrate consistently in the days before, not just the morning of.
- If the race offers aid stations, use them, even if you don't feel thirsty.
- Within 30–60 minutes after finishing, eat a snack or meal with carbs and protein to kick-start recovery.
The Mental Game: From Nerves to Empowerment
The morning of the race, my whole body hummed with nerves—a feeling I hadn't experienced since high school crew regattas. It was a mix of excitement and fear, but as soon as we crossed the start line, that anxiety transformed into pure energy. Running alongside Jenn and Eileen for the first three miles was a gift; their presence kept me grounded and distracted from any negative thoughts. When the crowd thickened and we got separated, I had to dig deep and run my own race. That solo stretch turned out to be the most empowering part of the entire day.
I had always underestimated my mental toughness, but in those final miles I discovered a well of resilience I didn't know I had. I repeated a simple mantra to myself: Strong, steady, powerful. With every footfall, I felt more connected to my body and more grateful for what it could do. This race wasn't about beating anyone else or hitting a specific time; it was about celebrating the fact that I had trained, shown up, and given my all. That shift in perspective is exactly what the Love Your Body Resolution is all about—moving your body because you love it, not because you're trying to punish it.
Post-Race Recovery and Looking Ahead
In the days after the race, my legs were sore but in that satisfying way that reminds you of what you accomplished. I prioritized gentle stretching, foam rolling, and a couple of rest days to let my muscles recover. Surprisingly, the mental high lasted even longer than the physical soreness. I found myself replaying the race in my mind, smiling at the memory of the cheering crowds and the feeling of crossing that finish line.
Now that I've conquered my first 8K, I'm already thinking about what's next. A 10K? Maybe a half marathon someday? Whatever I choose, I know that the lessons from this experience—about consistency, fueling, and mental grit—will carry me through. I also know that I'll continue to use running as a way to show my body love and respect. If you're considering a fitness goal, I encourage you to start small, be kind to yourself, and remember that every step is a step toward a stronger, healthier relationship with your body.