Running My First 5K

Imagine that one goal, that one activity or thing that you have always wanted to achieve, but knew deep down in your heart would probably never come to be.  For one reason or another it just seemed impossible.  No matter which way you played the scenario out in your head it always had the same outcome....failure.  This week I conquered one of those activities - I ran a 5K.  I know, it's only 3.1 miles, and to most serious runners it is just a breezy warm-up.  But I'm not a serious runner. Up until a month ago I didn't even consider myself a runner at all.  Actually, I hated it.  Which is why running the Kelly's Grief Center 5K (http://kellysgriefcenter.org/) was a pretty big deal.

Just a few months ago, running for more than 10 minutes was my absolute max.  I mean, who wants to run anyways?  Running and I never got along.  Maybe it's because running was always used as a punishment in the sports I played growing up.  You mean...I screwed something up and you're going to make me run more laps around the field?  And then I'm suppose to run "for fun" later on in life?  I was pre-conditioned to hate this activity.  It's like trying to root for your team's bitter rival after your dad raises you to detest them. So yeah, that's not going to work out.

My friend Dave and I acting to look like 2 runners

Even in high school, when forced to run, I always tried to get out of it.  There were a few of my friends on the baseball team that shared this feeling.  During conditioning, we had to run around the school three times, which was roughly one mile.  When the coaches weren't watching, a group of us would run once around the school and then sneak into the cafeteria to steal chocolate eclair ice cream bars.  We would then slam the ice cream bars during a brisk walk around the school and then meet the coaches back in the gym.  So we ran a third of a mile and then walked a third of a mile while eating ice cream bars.  Hard to believe it based on our extreme training regimen, but our team was the utmost mediocre.  My wife also pulled this charade in high-school for her track team, as she would hide in a bush and pop out to run when the rest of the team approached the bush.  Reason #463 we were meant to be together. 

Running to me, was just another chore.  I did it for the health benefits and not for enjoyment.  No matter what distance I tried, I was instantly bored.  Whether it be the track or treadmill, every step was more boring than the next.  My feet hurt, my shins hurt, I wasn't having fun.  I guess that it also didn't help that I never thought once about what kind of shoes I was wearing.  I not only needed new running shoes, I needed the right running shoe, so I went to Second Sole in the Valley.  The owner of the store picked out the perfect shoe for my foot, which also happened to be the most grandpa-like in appearance. I trusted his judgement and bought them although I absolutely hated how they looked (a classic sign that I'm not a runner - not yet).  I went to the gym and ran the next week and a funny thing happened - my legs didn't hurt, my shins felt great, and I was starting to have fun.  These shoes must of been working some sort of magic because I'm not suppose to be enjoying this.

I never set out to run this particular 5K.  The week prior, my wife and many of our friends ran in a 5K supporting infertility at Copley High School.  I was playing in a poker tournament the night before that was planned a few months out, so I had to graciously decline the invitation to run.  It was a good move.  A few whiskeys, scotch, cigars, 6,000 calories (not a joke), Taco Bell and $100 later and running was the furthest thing from my mind.  Based on the Taco Bell alone, it would of been a cataclysmically bad decision to race the next morning at 9am.  I felt awful that I did not participate in the race, given the cause and the group running.  Luckily for me, two of my friends were running the Kelly's Grief Center 5K in Stow the next week, so I had a chance to redeem myself and test my recent training.


Kelly's Grief Center 5K team

 I set a goal for myself to finish the race in 27:00 even.  I was running on false hope since I have only ran 3 miles or more twice in my life, which happened to be the week of the race.  Once I arrived at the race, for reasons unknown, I was even more confident in this goal....until I overheard a conversation at the registration table.  It's never good to hear one experienced runner decked out in proper gear tell his friend, Mr. Short Shorts that this is "one of the area's toughest courses", especially if you have never run a race before.  Great.  Confidence was out the window.  My new goal for my first race was now to finish without stopping to walk.  If guys in serious racing attire are concerned, then the newbie wearing basketball shorts with pockets should be peeing his pants scared.

The course was indeed difficult (at least in my mind), with many hills throughout the run.  I finished the race in 27:16, for a 8:47 mile pace.  Only 16 seconds off of my goal - I can deal with that. I finished dead even with a lady who placed first in her age group.  That means that if I was a 50 year-old woman or older, I would of been a champion.  So I have that going for me.  In the end, I finished exactly 100th out of 236 runners, so not too bad for my first try at this.  I haven't been this proud of an athletic accomplishment since hitting the same batter three times in one game while pitching in high school. 

If you asked me if I would ever run a 5K at any point in my life, my response would of been a resounding 'No'.  Just a few days ago I told somebody that I would never run a half marathon, now I'm having second thoughts.  For those serious runners out there reading this, you will laugh at my time.  But a few months ago I could barely run a mile, let alone three.  Now I love running.  I look forward to going to the gym and trying to see how much further I can go.  Even as I finishing my first race, my competitive personality started to kick in the moment I crossed the finish line.  16 seconds off my goal...failure.  I was proud and kind of bummed at the same time.  Oh well, something to look forward to overcoming during my next race.  I don't know when or how it happened, but I'm a full fledged runner now...and I kind of like it.