So you wanna know how to pick a PSC race without losing your mind? Yeah, me too. That’s exactly why I decided to finally figure it out this week. Felt like I was just randomly throwing darts before. Total mess.
Step 1: Admitting My Past Screw-Ups
Right, first thing? I stopped pretending I knew what I was doing. Remembered last year’s disaster. Signed up for this massive mountain PSC race thinking “how hard can it be?” My buddies all picked shorter, flatter ones. Guess who was crawling by mile 5? Yeah. Me. Finished dead last. Legs felt like jelly for a week. Realized I just picked the cool looking one, not the right one for me. Big difference.
Step 2: I Got Real (Annoyingly) Honest With Myself
Sit down. Honest conversation time. Grabbed my notebook – yeah, actual paper – and scribbled down:
- How far can I actually run right now? Not dream distance. Like, next-Saturday distance.
- What terrain makes me swear less? Pavement? Dirt trails? Rolling hills? Sheer cliffs? (Hint: not cliffs).
- Why am I even doing this thing? Bragging rights? Fitness? Cool medal? All valid, but be honest!
Looked at my answers. Realized dreaming about ultramarathons was dumb. I’m currently at “comfortable 5K” level. Okay. Reality check accepted.
Step 3: Hunting Like I Needed a New Kidney
Instead of just typing “PSC races near me” like usual, I got weirdly specific. Searched for:
- “PSC race beginner friendly”
- “PSC 5k distance [my city]”
- “Flat PSC course near me”
- “Small PSC events [my region]”
Skipped the huge sponsored monsters on the first page. Went digging to page 3, even local running club forums. Found three possibilities: a tiny lakeside 5K, a bigger park 5K charity run, and a local running club’s “come try it” short course race. All flat(ish). Much better.
Step 4: The “Dumb But Useful” Questions I Asked
For each race I was kinda interested in, I literally wrote down questions:
- When is the last damn day to sign up? Needed wiggle room for my lazy butt.
- What do you actually GET? Just a t-shirt? Medal? Free banana? Parking pass? Gotta know!
- What’s the vibe? Super competitive? Party at the start line? Family stroller friendly? Pictures! Looked at past years’ photos.
- Can I wear my stupid lucky socks? (Mostly kidding, but read the rules!). Also, check the shoes rule? Yeah, trail requires grippy shoes. Pavement? My worn-out sneakers might fly.
Emailed the organizer for one just to confirm the beginner stuff. They actually wrote back! Score.
Step 5: Pulling the Trigger (Finally)
Compared my dumb list. Tiny lakeside 5K won:
- Super flat course (legs already thanked me).
- Super cheap entry fee (didn’t wanna cry if I bombed).
- Late sign-up deadline (gave me weeks to chicken out… or train, I guess).
- Photos showed people smiling! Not the usual “death march” looks.
- Free banana + coffee after! Obvious deciding factor.
Clicked “Register”. Felt less scary knowing I kinda thought about it for once.
The Aftermath (Spoiler: Not Dead!)
Ran it last Sunday. Was it perfect? Nah. Did I finish? YES! Felt good the whole way. Not fast, but actually ran it all! Saw the lake, chatted with a nice older lady at mile 2, got my banana. Felt like a victory without needing an ambulance. Honestly? Choosing the right race for me actually made it possible. Who knew?
So yeah, stop picking the flashy one. Be boring. Be honest. Ask the weird questions. Then go get that banana.
