I did something today that I haven't done in over six years -- I ran a 5K road race. Nothing fancy. There are no
bragging rights with a 5K, especially when slogging along at a 9+-minute pace.
The funny thing is, though, that I feel oddly heroic.
I can't remember my last 5K. The fastest one I even ran
was a 18:15 during the running portion of a triathlon many,
many moons ago. My plan for this one -- if it can indeed be
called a plan -- was to finish with my dignity intact.
I made sure I started near the back of the pack just in
front of the chatty clusters of walkers. When the race
started, we all were walkers for the first half mile until our stream of sweaty people creasted the banks of the road and spilled across lawns and sidewalks, steadily gaining
speed.
Gaining speed is what I should not have done. The old
glory day memories of picking off runners one by one overwrote my modest plan at a cost to my creaky quads that I had to pay too soon. Going out too fast has always been a fault of mine. Sheesh! I thought after six years I would have forgotten something. Thankfully, a water stop and a short steep hill gave me and many others an excuse to walk.
With humidity at 90%, no wind, cloudless sky and
temperature at 80° and climbing, I settled in to the
fastest shuffle I could manage which had me both being passed and passing others. After all, this was a race. To not run the best I could would be dishonest. Without these competitors, I would neither be running (relatively) fast as I was nor having as much fun.
Yes -- fun. Not ROTFLMAO fun, but a steady trickle of joy courtesy of extra oxygen and an increased heartrate -- the gentle violence of being a good animal.
At the last turn to the final straightaway I found a
reserve of my long lost speed and decided to burn it. My legs loosened and my stride became fluid and strong. It was six years ago, and I was closing in on another PR. People
cheered. I was unstoppable.
I crossed the finish line, glanced at my watch and saw I
had run my slowest 5K ever.
Still, milling about with my fellow runners, eating bananas and watermelon, drinking water and Gatorade, I felt like Superman. Nowhere to go but up, up and away. I can always get faster.
On my way back to my car, I picked up an entry form for the next race.