With You

We've talked to a few people and we know everybody did well. We were with you Sunday, in mind if not in body. In the spirit of togetherness, Tim and I ran a 5K this weekend, on Saturday night. It was the Bricktown Blaze, a run to earn money so needy folks can receive prosthetic limbs through a charity called Limbs for Life. Yes, there were people with artificial legs in the run. Yes, they kicked my butt. I'm pretty sure those legs were bionic. I’ll post a link to the race results when they come up.

We’d still like to run a half marathon with the tribe, in Albuquerque or somewhere else, if that’s not good. I believe that having a shorter goal toward which to work will help us.

Tim and I have been running on the flats. We’ve been walking for 45 minutes and then running approximately 3 miles. Although it’s been hot, we try to run early or late, if possible. This run was at 5:30 p.m. and it had a couple of good hills.

I learned a few things from this run.

First, and most importantly, come marathon day, I can’t run with anyone I know. Tim and I had discussed the fact that he would be leaving me during the race. I thought I was okay with that.

Apparently not.

I’m just too dang competitive. I tried to keep up and then, finally, was forced to give up and let him go ahead, but I felt like crap for about fifteen seconds. I wasted a lot of energy, to boot. I know Tim felt bad. I can’t do that on the big day. The marathon will be long. Long. Long. Let me repeat: Long. I can’t afford to waste any energy, mental or physical. I need to start out on my own pace, keep my own pace, and not allow even the opportunity for thoughts of staying up (or back) with somebody to torture me.

Second, people cheat if they can get away with it. They are big freakin' cheaterheads from hell. This run had a turnaround and then the route headed back the way we had come for the second half of the run. Tim and I lined up at the back of the pack and, believe me, I know the people I passed. I got a good, long, slow look at their asses flapping. After the turnaround, I passed several of them for a second time. This is bad. Tim said he actually saw people turning around early, and they did not respond to him when he called them on it. Some of the scores on this run, therefore, aren’t real.

Third, when really big cops manning the roadblocks yell encouragement to you, it sounds like they’re making fun of you. I didn’t, however, find out what it’s like to kick them in the shins (and, thus, what it’s like to go to jail). They apparently couldn't hear what I was saying under my breath.

Fourth, it’s pretty cool to run into a stadium full of baseball fans at the end of your run. The run ended up at the Bricktown Ballpark and they had a big timer set up. We stayed and watched the Redhawks lose a tremendously exciting game against . . . the New Orleans Zephyrs. Musta been kismet.