Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Running (pt. 2)

The pennant was pinned crookedly on my shirt, so I redid it while waiting for the starting call. The sun wasn't too high yet, and the early morning sunlight threw long shadows from the houses and trees of my old hometown. People in running shorts and shoes mingled and stretched on the pavement. I made small talk with a few people-- mostly making plans for later in the day-- but the thought of being at the starting line of my first race in fifteen years lingered in the back of my head.

It wasn't going to be a long race, really; 4K. Why not a 5K like most races? Having it short didn't bug me too much since I had the rest of the day to do whatever afterward, and I'd only slept a couple hours the night before because I'd gotten off work really late so I wasn't a huge ball of energy to begin with. I wasn't worried about placing anything significant either, since my goal was "better than second to last place" and easily attained if I even just walked at a brisk pace. Success was just giving it a go as far as I was concerned, so hanging out in Independence, California, a couple doors over from Dehy Park was enough of a win for me.

The announcement was made that the race was going to start, and the list of places of where the proceeds would go, the explanation of the track, and thank-yous was stated. The countdown started from three, two, one--

Go.

And I began to run. I overtook some people but figured I'd see them again soon enough. I made my way through the streets of town, listening to some tunes from my high school years to bring back some nostalgia of when I used to explore the side streets and alleyways as I retraced one of the many paths of my younger days. At the first mile the shin splints I'd decided to ignore before the race decided to make themselves known and make every slap to the ground pretty painful, so I slowed down a little bit. The people I'd passed passed me, and I watched them sweat and go while I sweated and went.

After a little while the race went through the woodlot. Making my was around a corner, enjoying the shade of the trees in the quickly warming day, I saw a man walking in the opposite direction. Behind him was a collie dog walking along and a six-year-old boy walking and taking a breather from the race. The dog thought the kid looked interesting and decided to run up to smell him. The kid freaked, considering a dog he didn't know that was twice his size was getting a bit too close for comfort, so I stepped in and shooed the dog away before the owner finally called it over to him. The kid stood for a second, looked at me, and asked, "Why didn't he try to attack you?"

"I dunno," I shrugged, "I'm a bit taller than you are I guess."

The boy and I walked for awhile, him wondering why a dog would just run up to him like that one had, me wondering why an unattended six year old was running a footrace. He asked questions about the weather, how long it'd take to run "a million billion miles" (his answer was "about ten days" which, y'know, good for him, he's got gumption), and how much longer the race was because he was tired. I told him we were just about done, so when the threat of any unleashed dog was gone, I tuned to him and said, "I'll see you at the finish line, bud," before running off.

After getting back onto pavement and on the last quarter mile, I thought about why I bothered doing the run in the first place. I could have saved my money and ran my usual track back home, but I remembered; I had redemption to think about. It's not like it honestly mattered, and it's not like I really cared that much about it, but it was something to do-- something easy to succeed in, and if I was going to be active I'd might as well have lazy goals to go with it. I crossed the finish line, a number of people who were actually in shape cheering me on, and I got a gift bag with a bandana and an Independence Day pin.

16th place with a time just over twenty minutes or so. Not stellar, but not that bad considering I smoke, had shin splints, and spent a chunk of the race walking with a six year old.

It was fun, I wouldn't mind doing another short race sometime.

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