Three Point One

This morning, I did something I haven't done in over 15 years....I participated in an organized, pay-to-enter, get-a-t-shirt 5K.

Notice I didn't say, I ran in a 5K race, as there was no running involved.

I used to be a runner, but that was a long, long time ago. I hung up my running shoes 15 or more years ago, after two herniated disks in my neck and one sorry-ass knee demanded that I stop with madness. I absolutely, positively loved running but it didn't love me.

I am no longer a runner and I am okay with that.

MJagger, illustrious walking partner and fellow Madonna whore, and I have been walking a few times a week, cruising down the bike path at a blistering 15-minute mile pace. I am very happy to be walking in general and am all good with our speed, as it will lower my cholesterol and help me be heart healthy and get in somewhat improved shape just fine. Besides, with her bad hips, bad feet, broken tail bone and recent jet-ski injury and with my not-always-fabulous knee, we had to keep our wits about us--no racing down the corridor, no sprinting to the finish, no running in general. (Both of us should bring our beloved chiropractors with us and then we'd be able to get as ignorant as we want.) To keep us motivated, MJagger suggested a few weeks back that we sign up for a "race" (I don't know what else to call it, as the event is a race even though we aren't really racing anywhere); so, we picked a local even for this morning. Our goal was to finish. As we've been walking three miles at a time, this seemed a very reasonable goal.

Being back at a race was exhilerating for me and brought back very fond memories. Although I knew I would not be running like in the olden days, I had a very happy feeling and truly enjoyed the process. From watching people warm up to laughing at people in teeny, tiny nylon running shorts (and literally, obscenely nothing else), it was a warm, fuzzy flashback. Pinning my little race number on my shirt, checking my shoe laces, standing in the pack waiting for the gun to start the race--it truly was wonderful.

I'm pretty sure MJagger thought me to be a freak, as my level of excitement probably made little sense to her. I'm all good with that, too.

MJagger had never in her short life participated in anything like this, so this was a virginal event for her. There is nothing that can prepare you for what happens at a race, so it was fun to be with someone who didn't know about any of it. You can't explain the weird behaviors of runners before a race--it is something that must be experienced. I warned her that it would be tough when the gun went off, as everyone would shoot from the starting line and we'd be walking. We would have to hold firm to our game plan--walk 14 minute miles and not get ignorant.

I thought it a good sign that they assigned me a number that reflected my prime age, as illustrated in the not-so-flattering photo above. (I have a really nice photo of MJagger with her number, but I know she'd kill me if I posted it, so you'll have to take my word for it.)

We did exactly what we set out to do--14 minute miles. I am so proud of us!

And so, I did something today that I haven't done in 15 years. Next stop: 13 minute miles!

Just don't tell my knee or MJagger's tail bone I said that.
********************************************