A 5K is considered by people in the running community to be a 'fun run'. Those aren't two words that I typically consider having any business being in the same sentence. Running is not something that I do. Running is something that villains do while evading the police. Running is something that people do while chasing a ball or after leaving a flaming bag of poo on your doorstep.
Well, add this to the list of fundamental dogmas of my life that have been altered since meeting my wife and her family. I 'ran' the 5K Stuffing Strut today through downtown Detroit while Lisa and her brother Joe and sister Linda ran the 10K Turkey Trot. Since this semester began, I've been trying to get in shape and eat better, play ice hockey every Wednesday morning, and run a couple times/week. Don't let me give you the wrong impression though, I've hardly trained for this. I usually pass out after about a mile of running.
Being that there were over 12,000 people running in this race, it wasn't hard to keep pace at the beginning - the masses of people were pouring down the city street like molasses. As the race progressed and there started to be separation between the participants, I was feeling good about my pace. I passed a man in spandex pushing a jogging stroller, a man with a nutrient belt with enough food and liquids on it to last for a week, a man dressed as Batman as well as the Flash, a butterfly, many elves, some Santas, and a few reindeer. At about a mile into it, I had reached my limit. My feel felt as though they were encased in cement and my ankles were non-responsive. I started to walk. I was passed by nutrient man, Batman, some elves, a reindeer or two, and a butterfly. Then I was passed by some chubby 14-year-old girl that I swear was actually eating while awkwardly jogging past me. I started jogging again. At least Batman is a superhero.
The mantra of the Special Olympics is that it's not important where you finish, but simply that you compete. Well, I ran, I competed, and I finished. Mission accomplished. Actually, I'm pretty happy with my time considering the (lack of) preparation I've done. A twelve-minute mile equates 5MPH average. I'm pleased.
