This was my first “real” 5K. I did
the scavenger hunt race, but we had a bunch of stop-and-go action in that one.
This time, it was straight walking. No, I didn’t run.
I walked with a coworker, Reesie,
and a former coworker, Melissa. Reesie is like six inches shorter than me and
super petite, but she somehow managed to walk incredibly fast. I did have to
jog a few times just to catch up with her.
My son also participated, but he
left me in the dust immediately. I saw his head towering over most of the other
racers near the starting line and then I didn’t see him again until I finished.
That’s right; I finished, but before I did there was an excessive amount of
whining coming from my mouth.
First, 3.1 miles doesn’t seem like a
long way until you start speed walking it. Second, trying to talk while walking
becomes more difficult the further you go. This is all very obvious, basic
information, but I am an extremely slow learner. In fact, I did not shut up the
entire time.
Melissa was smart. She barely talked
at all. Reesie chatted away like breathing was just something happening as an
afterthought.
One weird note: the road was
littered with dead frogs. It was pretty gross. I couldn’t help but think of
Frogger except none of these frogs were very good at avoiding traffic. The road
only had two lanes for Pete’s sake.
After a little while of breathing
heavily, I said that I was having a new onset psychosomatic asthma attack. I
asked Reesie if I collapsed, would she render aid. She said it was her day off.
I was all alone in a crowd of walkers. The runners were gone. At least we were
close to a hospital.
When we saw mile marker 2, I asked
if that meant we were entering mile 2 or finishing mile 2. Melissa said we were
definitely beginning mile 2, but none of us saw mile 1. Reesie said she wasn’t
sure. I was disheartened. That would have been the longest mile ever.
When we approach the 10K sign that
directed those overly athletic people to divert their course, there were
runners already returning from that direction. I was impressed. Their bodies
were glistening with sweat as they pumped their legs down the road.
“I am so out of shape,” I thought to
myself.
When we heard the loud speakers, we
knew the end was near. I almost wept.
The best thing about the event
besides the fact that is was finally over was that people were cheering when we
crossed the line. It didn’t matter that my time was 50 minutes. What mattered
was that we did it. It was truly a good feeling.
My son finished with a time of
26:22. He said he didn’t push himself because it was going to be a big week in
basketball training. What a booger.
I’m already signing up for my next
one, only now I’m putting more effort into getting ready. Maybe I can get a
time of 48 minutes. Baby steps. I mean,
really, I am waking muscles that have been lying dormant for years.
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