A few weeks ago, I started to write about my first 10k race. Here is the rest of the story.
A little bit of hoopla at the start line, and we were off.
Or, more appropriately, the first several hundred people at the front of the line were off while everyone else shambled forward a few steps at a time until the crowd thinned.
Once across the line, it was possible to get a slow jog going. Better runners move ahead of you. Lots of groups passing, so I try to keep left to stay out of their way, but not so far left that I’m stepping on the walkers and slower runners.
(Slower than me?? Not many of those.)
The first mile was a breeze, slight downhill grade. Same through the second mile, but haven’t hit my stride, yet.
In the third mile we started up the overpass leading to the Interstate Bridge.
Slowed down a bit, took a few walk breaks. Once on the bridge, was able to start running again through to about the mile 4 marker.
It was around this point, on the West side of the river approaching Waterfront Park, that the pain set in on my left foot.
I had experienced this pain earlier in the year. Treadmill or road, it didn’t matter. After getting better shoes, as well as trying a couple of different gel inserts, I thought I had it licked, but there it was again. A burning in the sole of my left foot spiking a bit more with each impact.
So, I alternated between walk and run, and kept it down to a dull roar.
By this time, the faces around me were pretty familiar. I know that I’m no spring chicken at 40, but I think that most of the people around had good 20 years on me.
Run. Walk. Run. Walk. I’d pass the slower people. Then the quicker walkers and slower runners would pass me again. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Then I saw her. My nemesis. My enemy. She was 70’ish, shorter, a very determined gait with a bit of swagger.
And she carried her cane under her right arm. She was one of those who was in front of me half the time, behind me half the time.
I would not let her finish before me. Consider me sexist or agist. I just didn’t want it to happen.
Much the same through miles 4 and 5. Most of this was on concrete and not blacktop, so a little tougher on the feet and knees. Coming into sight were the newer high rise condominiums that I had scrambled through the previous day searching for an ATM, so I knew the end was getting close.
Walk. Run. Walk. Run.
Old woman, shuffle, shuffle. She kept her cane under her arm, and it swung back and forth with her gait. Dangerous!
OUCH OUCH OUCH!!!!!! Foot killing me. Finish line in sight. Slow down. Get ready to walk it out the rest of the way.
Then, from behind me, I hear “KEEP GOING, DON’T STOP. I’ve been behind you all morning. YOU’RE DOING GREAT! YOU CAN KEEP GOING!!”
I look behind me, and a woman I’ve never met or seen looks me in the eye and starts waving me forward.
So, I go. Pain be damned, I sprint out the last few hundred yards.
I totally left that old woman behind.
I was able to check the official results online later in the day, and I finished in 87 minutes. Based on my training runs, I was expecting about 90 min, so right on the nose.
Epilogue
The 10k was sponsored by Widmer brewing and The Old Spaghetti Factory.
It’s 9:30 in the morning, and everyone was eating pasta and drinking free beer. The coupon for the complimentary beers (yes, we were allowed two of them) was actually part of our number pinned to our shirts.
It was good beer, but the pasta was a little too al dente for my tastes.
While I hope to keep running similar events, at this time, I don’t plan to extend my training to include marathons and half marathons. 10k is quite sufficient.