Heather's Run

I did it. I ran 5k without stopping. At 7:00 a.m. this morning I pulled into the parking lot of Lawrence's Southwind 12 movie theaters to register for the Sixth Annual Heather's Run. I had planned on doing the one mile fun run/walk, but since it didn't start until 9:00 a.m. and I needed to get home so the girls could get hair cuts, I had to throw my hat in for the 5k.

At the start, I went to the back of the group. I know I'm a slow runner and I wasn't even sure I could run 5k so I wanted to make sure I stayed out of other people's way. I pressed the start button on my stopwatch when the starter said "... go!" and looked back at the clock ticking behind me to compare it with my watch, they were on the same second which was good enough for me.

Our course was almost flat with a few slight changes in elevation and a few gentle curves that gave way to a bit of shade near the middle part of the run. Weatherwise it was about perfect at the start. Last night we had some weak thunderstorms come through and they dumped quite a bit of rain and brought temperatures down too.

I felt great at the start and was trying not to over do it, knowing that if I was going to go the distance pacing was going to be critical. I looked down at my watch at one point and saw that eight minutes had elapsed and thought to myself that I was supposed to be doing two eight minute runs this weekend as day two of week five in the Couch-to5k running program. Eight minutes was no problem.

Shortly after the eight minute mark I hit the shady part of the course and it was a relief to be out of the sun. I could hear people shouting and clapping and as I rounded the corner I saw two people on either side of the course cheering everyone on, yelling out times and words of encouragement.

Around this point, the first runner going the other direction passed me. He was closely followed by another. As I came out of the shade, I could see a flood of people coming back my direction and I knew the halfway point must be ahead. Topping a short incline I could see the halfway mark and most importantly, water.

I've watched marathons on t.v. and seen runners drink on the go, but never realized how difficult it was. My shirt was already soaked with sweat so I lifted the cup towards my mouth and made a go of it.

The return trip was hard. I thought several times about stopping and walking, but I'd come this far and wanted to be able to say that I ran the entire thing, even if at a snail's pace. I kept recalling a quote I'd read earlier this week about running. It was something to the effect of "The pain only gets so bad and never gets worse, so just keep going."

I thought about that quote and my pain and it was true, it wasn't getting any worse. But my will to continue was diminishing with each stride. Well, "stride" isn't really the right word for it, but it sounds better than the reality.

Nevertheless, I thought about who the run was for, kids with cancer. I thought of the living hell those kids must endure every day and it made me want to keep on keeping on. At last I could see the finish up ahead and at that point I knew I could make it the distance. Within two hundred yards of the finish there were a few people I knew and they actually started giving me encouragement. It was enough to help me cross the line.

I was too damn tired to get a good look at the clock, but I think it was 31 minutes and some odd seconds. I completely forgot about the stopwatch on my wrist until I'd caught my breath. For the first time in a long time, I was proud of myself. I'd accomplished something, something I wasn't sure I would ever be able to do.

When I went home, I toook a cold shower and let the tub fill up with cold water as I sat in it, trying to stretch. Now some six or seven hours later, I can feel my legs stiffening up, but the feeling of accomplishment hasn't faded. If you see me in the next day or two and I'm walking funny with a stupid grin on my face, now you know why.