My First 5K

What follows here is the recollection of the first time I ran a 5K, but this story does not begin with the 5K. This story begins the night before, where it was officially discovered that I am either A#1: Blind or B#2: Stupid. Hopefully it's A#1.

So it's Thursday night, and we both know what that means: Back to Coco's. Before Coco's John invited some people over to his house to have some steak. I'm certainly not gonna say no to a free meal, especially if it's a juicy chunk of meet. Let me tell you, John makes a mean steak. I needed something to wash down the deliciousness so when I went inside my inner Wisconsin came out and I sniffed out the MGD in the fridge. So good. This was not enough to satiate me, however. John suggested that I make myself a drink. I found his gin, which as you all know is my poison of choice. John does not have any mixers for gin though. No tonic. No sprite. Just gin. So I improvised with some fruit punch...Gatorade. This way I could revitalize my electrolytes while I drink. I'm really smart. Eventually we leave for Coco's to meet up with Scott and Jacki. The problem with Covington is that there is not much available parking at night. This is the first butterfly wing flap that resulted in a disastrous night. John is driving and decides that it would be a good idea to park in a blind parking lot by Molly Malone's. So we get out of the car and walk down an alley to get to the street. John, Crotch and Matt run across the street in front of a bus. I decide to wait and not endanger my life. Butterfly wing flap #2. After the bus passes those 3 are far ahead of me so I need to run to catch up. I wasn't running full out, but I was going pretty fast. Now across from Molly Malone's is a parking lot that is chained off. This is where I was running to. The stars must have been aligned against me that night because I was running at the perfect speed, at the perfect angle, in the perfect light, to run straight into one of the chains blocking off the parking lot. I hit the chain and fall forward, luckily catching myself with my hands and elbow. I immediately get up and continue running, but not to catch up to the guys, but to get away from the 30 people standing outside Molly Malone's that could have potentially seen me be an idiot. My legs are killing me because I hit the chain so hard. Luckily though the chain was higher than most of the chains and it hit me in the thighs. If the chain had been below knee level I probably would have died. I'm bleeding profusely from my right elbow and right shin but the night must go on. A few drinks must be had in order to dull the pain. There was not much more to the night. This was just the setup to the 5K anyway.

When I got up Friday morning I could barely walk. I was the definition of gimp. I was wincing in pain just walking down the steps of my apartment complex. I didn't know how I was going to complete a 5k, I just knew that I was still going to attempt it. At work the most pain I was in when I would try to sit down or stand up. For this reason I rarely got out of my chair. When I got home from work I literally walked around inside my apartment to try and work out the pain. I stretched more than I did when I was playing varsity tennis in high school. Still, though I could now walk with only a slight limp, I was still in a lot of pain. Rosie texted me that I should drink a lot of water before the race. I drank a liter of water in about an hour. I can't remember the last time I drank that much water. It was the first time that I can remember that I actually pissed clear. It was weird and I didn't like it.

So Rosie picks me up from my apartment and I show her the damage that the chain/ground did to me and she is impressed. The bruising is kinda hard to see since my legs are so hairy but the scrapes up and down my thigh were clearly visible and bad. We pick up Ben and go downtown for the race. For some reason we park like 8 blocks away from where the race is starting. Just what I need. We check in and get our shirts and our time chips. Apparently even though I've never done this before I'm the only one who realizes you can tuck the strands holding the time ship under your shoe laces so they don't stick out. Everybody goes to the starting line and the gun goes off for the start. Everyone not in the front starts off slow until the pack thins out. I take this time to run behind Rosie and make fun of the way she runs. You should watch her run sometime. It's hilarious. Ben takes off from us but I run with Rosie for a little while longer. Eventually I make my move to actually run. Mind you, every single stride I take hurts like a bitch. I keep up my pace for about 8 minutes until we reach the first hill. Running uphill sucks. I make it like 1 minute on the hill before I have to stop and walk. Not only am I tired as shit but my legs burn from the pain. I end up walking for like the next 3 minutes until I feel something hit me in the but. Rosie had caught up to me. I tell her that I decided to wait for her. She believes me. I jog with her for a little while until we reach an even steeper hill. FML. We ran until the turn around and then walked a little more. More jogging. More pain. The only relief was that the guy running ahead of us got a face full of water from one of the volunteers. That and the Q102 van playing "Untouched" by The Veronicas. After about 3 minutes of jogging I need to walk again. I really feel stupid for runing into that chain. We walk until we're about 1/2 kilometer from the finish. We run the rest of the way and cross the finish line in 32 minutes and change. I round it off to 33 minutes because it's more symmetrical that way. That's about an 11-minute mile pace with no training and bum legs. Not bad I say. Afterwards we get free beer tickets because that's really the only way to get people to do this. It only takes two for me to get drunk, which is less than usual, but not by much...The rest of the night is filled with "who the hell sang that" and conversation on the viability of long distance relationships. For some reason I was the only one saying that they don't work out. If Deb Morgan were there she'd agree with me.

When it was all said and done I passed out at 11 on a Friday night. But I'm glad that I actually did something useful with my life instead of the usual going out and getting blasted and waking up in pain the next day. Oh wait...