Two years ago, when we were still living in an apartment and not going to work nearly as early every morning, I was actually pretty consistent in working out and running on a regular basis. I could do over 5 miles at a pretty good pace without really thinking too much about it. That was two years ago.
I haven’t lost all of it over the years. I’ve stayed active and I can still run a little, maybe not quite as fast or as far I used to. Now I go running and I’m usually fine right up until the point that I am physically as far away from our house as possible and then ask myself what exactly I think I’m doing. I’m really starting to consider throwing away my running shoes, or at least padlocking them somewhere to make it a little effort to get out the door.
Or at least I will think about it after this weekend. On Sunday, I’m running an official 5k.
Yeah, I don’t really get the whole “k” thing either. Five thousand meters means very little to me. I normally equate meters to yards and say that the three some inches differences can be ignored. In this case, saying I’m running an official “approximate 50 football fields” doesn’t really help.
I realize that the metric system makes a lot of sense, but it just doesn’t mean anything to my head. So, on Sunday, I’m running an official 3.10686 miles. And if that just doesn’t make sense and make you feel all warm a fuzzy inside, I don’t know what will.
Other than a strong shot of tequila, except more ill than fuzzy.
A few months ago, Tyler and I were talking about getting in shape before we went to Mexico, and as we all know, the brain is so powerful, talking about getting in shape is pretty much the same thing as actually doing it. He had been running a little, and I like to remember when I use to run, so we said that if we ever saw an opportunity to do a 5k or 10k, we would do it.
Thank goodness I only found a 5k. It’s in downtown Denver and is being sponsored by Nike. I wonder if I show up in all Nike gear, maybe they’ll let me have a little bit of a head start. I get a T-shirt out of the deal and most of the registration fee goes to some of the local schools, so it’s for a good cause. I’m also hoping that some of those local school parents who don’t know how important it is to spend at least two months talking about running before a race will have entered so I don’t finish dead last. I already know a child somewhere half my height and less than half my age is gunning for me.
If you don’t hear from me next week, it means I’m still trying to finish the course somewhere out in the big city. Send a search party.
And maybe some tequila.