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Blackadar · 08-22-2011, 10:24 AM

For those who are interested, my tongue-in-cheek version of the 5k:

About 2 months ago, a guy in my office (Phil) started doing P90X. Since I had just come off of my X rotation, he was naturally asking me questions about the set. So we started talking about exercise on a regular basis. He's about my size, though I had to lose 60 pounds to get down to that size. But we're still both big, old, slow guys and so we can fully understand the aches and pains we both feel from working out. It's funny laughing at each other as we groan about our latest hurts.

One Monday last month, he comes in and tells me about the 5k he just completed that weekend. He decided to run another one the next month and encouraged me to give it a shot. I figured it might be a good challenge and since I had days off with Cathe's STS Meso 1, I decided to give it a go. Of course, the last time I ran further than from the couch to the bathroom (commercial during the Super Bowl...go now!) was around 25 years ago.

I only had 3 weeks to get ready. The first time I went out to jog, the pain set in within a couple of minutes. My eyes started to bug out. My tongue started hanging out of my mouth. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. My body was crying out, "STOP! And go eat a donut while you're at it!" Everyone said it'd get easier. It didn't. I just was able to go a little longer and a little faster over my next few jogs, but it never got easier. #$!@@#$! liars.

So, with a grand total of 9 practice runs over 2 1/2 weeks, I did my 5k this weekend. I showed up and felt like a hippo at a racehorse convention. There's all these lean, tight people with effortless strides walking around confidently. Then there's me, looking at the other runners and thinking, "well, I could probably eat you if I could catch you". Thank goodness Phil showed up. Between he and I, we could probably create a rolling roadblock on the race course.

I managed to pin my number to my shirt without drawing blood (a major achievement!) and prepared to run in the ungodly humid North Carolina August air. READY...SET...GO! As I lumbered away from the starting gate, the nervousness was replaced by the energy of the crowd. I felt good. I was doing this!

That lasted about 10 steps. Then I was back to the tongue-hanging, eye-bugging, earthquake-pounding running that I had mastered over the previous 3 weeks. Everyone around me looked like they were gliding effortlessly over the pavement, while I looked like I was trying to flee a Weight Watchers convention.

I kept on going, down one road and up the next. I kept going when we hit the park. I hit the wall after the 2nd mile but kept going. I felt like Gimli during the Lord of the Rings:

"I'm wasted on cross-country! We dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over short distances!"

However, the supposedly flat course was all uphill on the 3rd mile. #$!@@#$! liars x2. I had to walk a bit because someone forgot to install the elevators on the sheer cliffs that loomed before me in mile 3, or at least they seemed that way as I waddled my way up the constant hills. But when all hope was almost lost, the oasis of the finish line appeared in the distance. I knew they were cooking pancakes, so I pushed on and I even finished with a flourish, actually passing someone (this is a new experience!) with 2 seconds to go.

Crossing the finish line, I felt like I had accomplished something. My first ever 5k was complete! A triumph! Hold on, I need to throw up. Oh wait, I don't. Where's the frickin' pancakes...?

I completed the course in 31:50, which was actually good enough to finish in the top 1/3rd or so of all the racers. I guess that's not too bad for a hippo with 3 weeks of training. Phil was a little bit behind me (37 minutes).

Now I find myself looking at upcoming 5ks and considering doing it all over again. What in the world is wrong with me?

08-22-2011, 10:24 AM	#77
Blackadar Retired Join Date: Oct 2000 Location: Fantasyland	For those who are interested, my tongue-in-cheek version of the 5k: About 2 months ago, a guy in my office (Phil) started doing P90X. Since I had just come off of my X rotation, he was naturally asking me questions about the set. So we started talking about exercise on a regular basis. He's about my size, though I had to lose 60 pounds to get down to that size. But we're still both big, old, slow guys and so we can fully understand the aches and pains we both feel from working out. It's funny laughing at each other as we groan about our latest hurts. One Monday last month, he comes in and tells me about the 5k he just completed that weekend. He decided to run another one the next month and encouraged me to give it a shot. I figured it might be a good challenge and since I had days off with Cathe's STS Meso 1, I decided to give it a go. Of course, the last time I ran further than from the couch to the bathroom (commercial during the Super Bowl...go now!) was around 25 years ago. I only had 3 weeks to get ready. The first time I went out to jog, the pain set in within a couple of minutes. My eyes started to bug out. My tongue started hanging out of my mouth. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. My body was crying out, "STOP! And go eat a donut while you're at it!" Everyone said it'd get easier. It didn't. I just was able to go a little longer and a little faster over my next few jogs, but it never got easier. #$!@@#$! liars. So, with a grand total of 9 practice runs over 2 1/2 weeks, I did my 5k this weekend. I showed up and felt like a hippo at a racehorse convention. There's all these lean, tight people with effortless strides walking around confidently. Then there's me, looking at the other runners and thinking, "well, I could probably eat you if I could catch you". Thank goodness Phil showed up. Between he and I, we could probably create a rolling roadblock on the race course. I managed to pin my number to my shirt without drawing blood (a major achievement!) and prepared to run in the ungodly humid North Carolina August air. READY...SET...GO! As I lumbered away from the starting gate, the nervousness was replaced by the energy of the crowd. I felt good. I was doing this! That lasted about 10 steps. Then I was back to the tongue-hanging, eye-bugging, earthquake-pounding running that I had mastered over the previous 3 weeks. Everyone around me looked like they were gliding effortlessly over the pavement, while I looked like I was trying to flee a Weight Watchers convention. I kept on going, down one road and up the next. I kept going when we hit the park. I hit the wall after the 2nd mile but kept going. I felt like Gimli during the Lord of the Rings: "I'm wasted on cross-country! We dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over short distances!" However, the supposedly flat course was all uphill on the 3rd mile. #$!@@#$! liars x2. I had to walk a bit because someone forgot to install the elevators on the sheer cliffs that loomed before me in mile 3, or at least they seemed that way as I waddled my way up the constant hills. But when all hope was almost lost, the oasis of the finish line appeared in the distance. I knew they were cooking pancakes, so I pushed on and I even finished with a flourish, actually passing someone (this is a new experience!) with 2 seconds to go. Crossing the finish line, I felt like I had accomplished something. My first ever 5k was complete! A triumph! Hold on, I need to throw up. Oh wait, I don't. Where's the frickin' pancakes...? I completed the course in 31:50, which was actually good enough to finish in the top 1/3rd or so of all the racers. I guess that's not too bad for a hippo with 3 weeks of training. Phil was a little bit behind me (37 minutes). Now I find myself looking at upcoming 5ks and considering doing it all over again. What in the world is wrong with me? Last edited by Blackadar : 08-22-2011 at 10:25 AM.