post the hundred-forty-ninth, 2013

get up early, 4:30 or so. still not sure what i'm doing this for. do i want to see how fit i am? force of habit? wishful thinking? i don't know.

still, i get up, start the coffee. my hip hurts. my ankle hurts. my back is sore. that's par for the course these days -- everything hurts. what the hell am i doing running a 5k??

english muffin. peanut butter. coffee. sit down and play some 'words with friends' while i eat this meager breakfast. wait a while but the breakfast doesn't go out as easily as it came in, if you know what i mean.

SIGH.

take a shower and let the hot water try to relax some of the old muscles. go to get dressed and i can't decide but i in the end i pull on the swamp snigglet. i feel like i should apologize for wearing it, in my pitiful condition, but hell - it's a game, right? it's a game and when you are on the team, you wear the team jersey to the game. that's just how it is.

it's 6:06. i wanted to leave at 6:15 but i guess i will go ahead -- no point in hanging around the house.

am i anxious? i don't know. there's not another car on the road, of course, because it's only crazy people that are out this time on a holiday. rod stewart's singing 'young hearts be free tonight' which repeats the line "time is on your side! time is on your side!" over and over. when the song ends i turn off the radio so that i can plant that in my mind. "time is on your side." that can be my mantra today. "time is on your side."

there are a few other folks in the parking garage, but i easily find a good spot right by the stairs. open the trunk to put on my bib and there's the detritus of races past: little clumps of safety pins. and i think to myself again, what the hell am i doing.

jog around 10 minutes or so, use the porty potty (no line! [no luck...]), stretch. overall a good little warm-up. as i take another blast of albuterol, i am starting to feel maybe just a tidge optimistic. more "maybe i won't suck" than "i am gonna rock" but still, it's something.

it's almost 7AM and i am milling around the start. see a couple folks i know. how're you, how're you, blah, blah. i notice there are a lot of blue bibs, so i ask this guy - do the 5k and 10k start at the same time? he goes - the 5k is at 8:45.

awkward.

also, what the hell??

1. i really feel primed Right Now. there is no way i can hold onto this an hour and a half. 2. what am i going to do for an hour and a half?! 3. damnit. 4. okay, i'd rather be early than late. (but... jeez)

the 10k'ers take off and the band starts back. they're playing mumford and sons 'i will wait for you'. oh c'mon. seriously?! i nab a bottle of water and sit on a stoop, drinking water and playing through all my candy crush lives. hope springs eternal... so i jog over to the park to sit on a real toilet and maybe get some action there, but still no luck. i spend a lot of time stretching, join in the cheering at the 10k finish, stretch some more, re-albuterolize.

finally it's 8:30 and they're telling us to get ready. i find a spot in the middle near this lady wearing a peach top and grey skirt. (i wore a skirt, too. if i do well, the swamp shirt says i mean business. if i suck, the skirt says what did you expect.) there are a metric shit-ton of children in the race, so i try to position myself where i won't trip over any of them. i am gazing at all the different shoes, trying to shake out the nerves. i'm getting psyched.

the whole crowd counts down 10... 9... 8... then the electronically-manufactured-gun-type-sound goes, and we're off! except we're still standing. the crowd is crushing through the bottleneck start line, so it's slow going. we're finally through, i start my watch, and here we go.

right away, there's trouble. these people are super slow, some jogging with kids, some walking with the race swag string bag swinging on their backs! i shuck and jive my way to some clear space and about a half mile in i take stock. breathing, okay. feet, not killing me. hip... painless. nice! i know i am not blazing saddles here, but with a crowd like this, i settle on a strategy: just pass people. that's it. just pass people. i don't care who - kids, adults, young, old, boy, girl, androgyn. doesn't matter. just pass people.

so i do. i start passing people. sure, there are people passing me. the start was completely wack so there are fast people wanting to get through. i am all - good on ya! because i don't care if they pass me. that's not what this is about. all this is about is me passing people.

so i do. i pass people and more people, and just like that we're at 1 mile. they're calling out times -- "9:19!" -- but i know i am faster. there's a water stop at about 1.25 and i get through that unscathed.

we loop the baseball fields, and i am near a girl, maybe 9 years old, who doesn't want to let me go, and some old man who sounds like a lamaze instructor. we make this hairpin turnaround - one of those great "around the orange cone" setups - and i leave them both. so long, suckas!

i am getting really hot, reallllly hot, and i remember (duh) that i am wearing a hat, so i take it off and that's better. but, i am hot and dizzyish and i am like, hey maybe i will just quit here, who will know, but then i realize i am gaining on the woman in front of me, so i buck up and pass her. all of a sudden, we are at 2. sweet!

the course is altered from years past, but coming in the final mile is the same and it's a lot of down hill followed by a quick up at the end then one block to the finish. everyone sort of speeds up on the downhills, but i stay smooth and just keep passing people.

then i am beside a teenage bladerunner in a day-glo orange shirt. there's a team of bladerunners here, all in the day-glo. he's a husky kid, maybe 15, 16, and he's struggling. i go by him and i'm like, good job. he's all, thanks. i grin and say, i just said that to distract you so i could beat you. he speeds up. we're together maybe a quarter mile then he drops back and this other guy who is with the bladerunners sort of encourages him a little, but then the coach-guy takes off and i know bladerunner is still back there.

almost at the last turn, he catches me again, but he has clearly had it now, really beat, and i am like - around this turn, left then right, then a block to the finish. i tell him he's doing great. he slows. i am like - no way, man, don't stop now! and i nearly have an asthma attack yelling this kid across the finish line, and we cross 1-2, him in front. i am all woo-hoo, but he is making a beeline for the curb. uh-oh... i follow him and presto, all his breakfast comes up in the midnight mulch. yikes. i am patting him on the back, telling him to let it all out, just let it out. he looks pretty shaken but his mom shows up with some water and gets him into the shade. i tell her he did a great job, really great.

my watch says 26:46. not my best by any means, but not my worst. it's something to work with at least. i check the fancy electronic readouts and can't find me. what the hell? i march on over to the scoring tent and the patient, helpful scoring guy looks up my bib number and says that my start didn't register. they have my finish, but they used gun time for the start. i am like - oh, no-no-no. that will never do. he says - if you can find someone you started near, then we can change your start time. i am like - there was this lady in a peach top and grey skirt... he's like - you have to actually find her and bring her here, not just describe her wardrobe.

oh. right.

so i am going from clump of people to clump of people. "did you start in the middle, there? remember me? i moved the sign out of the way?" and, it's no after no. but then i spot her! peach-top-grey-skirt! after a really awkward conversation (do i HAVE any other kind??) she agrees to accompany me back to the scoring tent, where she vouches for my having started near her. the patient, helpful scoring guy laughs and says he didn't think i could do it. hey, buddy, my middle name is determination.

he gets her bib and finds her start and changes my start to match hers and wah-lah -- turns out i am 1AG.

i am walking on clouds...

we get some breakfast, and then return to the trophy presentation. i get a hideous lucite trophy and a $50 fleet feet gift card. the other winners are all ga-ga over the gift cards, but i only have eyes for the trophy.

you were right, rod. time WAS on my side today.