I did it! There are a whole five kilometers behind me, and they disappeared into the dust in exactly 24 minutes on the dot. Currently, though, I’m sitting in the trunk of my car, in a parking structure, icing my legs so they don’t hate me for the rest of the weekend. I think it’s a good look for me. It says, “I am serious about running and about my health, but also I’m pretty crazy.”
While I’m super proud about my time (I was just shooting for anything less than 30 minutes), can we take a second and discuss the number of 14 year olds that finished ahead of me?! This is not an old man’s game, let me assure you. They may not have gone through puberty yet, but damn those little guys are fast. I’m pretty sure the first four guys to finish were on some middle school cross country team. At the very least I could see every one of their ribs. I was under the impression that this race was to benefit the children somehow, but not by letting them embarrass the rest of us when they all finished before we did. The next time I run one of these, I’m going to have to actually train for it so I’m not quite as pathetic by comparison. Which brings me to my last point I want to make before I waddle out of the trunk of my car: races are addictive as hell. I’m already thinking about Googling what degenerative disease I can stop next by my ability to move my body a pre-specified number of miles/kilometers. Though I am probably going to attempt to drag some other people along with me. So if you’re reading this, grab your running shoes and meet me at the park on Monday. Next week we start training for the next disease-poverty-famine-and-inequality-killing race!