The 5K

I did it! I ran a 5K last Saturday, the first big goal I set for myself on this project.

Most of the goals in my life are not quite so literal. They don't have a date and a finish line. But it was nice this time to have one that was so easily measurable.

I wasn't sure what to expect at a 5K. Who would be there running with me? Turned out there were firemen and police, a few people with their small kids in strollers, groups of friends who had come together. Oh, and since costumes were encouraged (it was the day before Halloween), a gorilla, a dog, and a puffy white ghost.


A group of maybe 100 people gathered behind the start line while a woman led us in a warm-up.

The gun went off right at 8:30 a.m. Going into it I feared getting lost, and I feared coming in last. But as I started I realized how ridiculous it was to worry about getting lost. There was no way to miss the markers going up Cincinnati, Robinson and finally Rim. The course went uphill half the way, then you turned around and went back down and finished where you started.

I wondered how hard I should push myself. I feared straggling in last; on the other hand, I didn't want to push myself so hard I would run out of steam at the finish. I finally decided to do it like I practiced, which was a steady jog.

About 10 minutes into the race volunteers held out cups of water, which I grabbed, drank and trashed quickly (exciting, I've only seen that in marathons).

It was quiet running uphill. There were a few runners around me but no one was talking. I could hear people, including myself, start to breathe hard.

The road turned and suddenly I could see the clear morning sunshine illuminating the buildings in Downtown and, behind them, the neighborhoods of Juarez. The colors looked soft and bright like a painting and the scene seemed so close that I could touch it.

A stream of runners started passing me going the other way. They had reached the turnaround.

I started to get tired. There was a girl in an orange dress and orange wig in front of me and I kept trying to catch up to her but I couldn't. Also just in front of me was a woman in a red jacket with long brown hair. Maybe I could catch her, too?

I finally caught up with orange dress girl just before I reached the turnaround. The turnaround was so clearly marked you couldn't miss it, thank God. I also passed a guy in a werewolf costume.

Running downhill was easier but not a picnic. Orange dress girl passed me, and it seemed like there was no hope of passing red jacket woman. Maybe I was going to be last after all? I reminded myself that just finishing the race was my goal. After all, two months earlier I could barely run a whole block.

I consciously sped up and finally passed orange dress girl. She didn't catch up this time. Funny how a race brings out your competitive nature.

Sooner than I expected I saw the park where we started and I started to get excited and emotional. This was what I trained for for eight weeks. I was going to complete the circle and finish what I started. I was having a hard time believing it.


The smart-aleck announcer said my name just before I crossed the finish line.

I walked over to the park, stood in the sunshine and felt a moment of euphoria as I caught my breath. It was a combination of runner's high and that feeling you get when you've accomplished something, like winning a softball game or acing a test. I was proud of myself.





I grabbed a water bottle and drank about half of it. A few minutes later I walked across the grass and looked at the results posted on a shed at the park. I had come in fourth in the women's 20-29 age group. The top 3 finishers in each age group got a trophy, so I had missed that by only one spot. Not bad, though I wondered if the only people behind me were orange dress girl and people in bulky costumes.

The entire experience made me want to enter another race the next weekend. The race was well-organized, and there seemed to be a positive vibe among the runners. I liked that it wasn't a cutthroat competition. Also, it was refreshing to go to an event that's not all about food or alcohol. And I wanted to feel that sense of accomplishment again, and maybe come in with an even better finish.

I don't know if there is another running event in my future, though. I felt like my knees were giving me a message the last few weeks of training. The message being, we're sore right now, push us more and we'll be talking knee surgery. Running is not my sport, I grudgingly have to admit.

But of course it's about more than running. It's about the journey. About two weeks before the race I was going to quit. I had missed two workouts and my knees hurt like hell, and I thought, why am I even doing this? What does it matter? But it does matter. I pushed my will and my body and I proved that I could do what once was beyond my reach. One goal down, a million more to go.