After this weekend, I am officially calling myself a runner. Not really, and if you could have seen my poor self Saturday afternoon, you wouldn't call me that either.
A couple of months ago, I signed up to do the Mayor's Cup 5K. The proceeds benefit Tuscaloosa's pre-K programs, and I could earn time off from work at the same time. I had great plans of getting ready for this. I planned to go to the the Y everyday at lunch and being ready to go by the time the race arrived. I have had similar plans before, and sadly most have ended with nearly the same result.
I did do better with my preparation this time than I usually do though. I think it may have had something to do with the fact that I would be out there with people that I work with and actually see everyday, and I didn't want to make a complete idiot of myself. Also, the Mayor offered any City employee who finished in less than 50 minutes a full day off with pay. Who wouldn't want that?
So if you've seen me huffing and puffing up and down University Blvd and around the quad lately, now you know why.
Saturday was the day, and I was determined to make it in less than 50 minutes. And I finished in 41. I ran a whole lot more than I did getting ready, but being out there with everyone else seemed to make it easier. By the time I finished though, I looked like I had been caught in a storm. I was soaked.
I went home, and after grabbing a long shower at the insistence of my wife (what? stinky people don't need love too?), I crashed on the sofa for the rest of the afternoon.
A couple of times I tried to get up and actually be productive, but there's only so much a person can do. Besides, my legs really didn't want to work so well.
About 4pm, I was able to head to Jalepeno's for some golden enchilada's and margarita's. And that was about it for me.
Now if I can just stay motivated to keep running, I may be the next Jesse Owens.
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