Jim here for TBA. I had the brilliant idea of recapping all of our previous races so that we could track our progress and maybe look back in a year and be amazed that I prayed for death during a 5K.
The Mitchell run was a pain in the ass. We picked it as a replacement event for horseshit rainout of the Millennium triathlon. When I say "we picked it", I really mean Matt picked it. I am not a runner, and I had only run a 5K as part of a rather bush league triathlon I ran in Wisconsin.
Anyway, the Mitchell run was a pain in the ass. I was out drinking the night before and had a rather rude awakening when Matt called me at 7:30am to wake my drunk ass up. I of course told him that I was already up and ready to leave. I stumbled out of bed, put on some clothes, poured myself in the car and hit the road.
Got to Matt's place around 8am and we headed to the race. It was early, but it was clearly going to be a god-damned scorcher. It was a fairly large event (in hindsight, not really. But fuck it, keep reading), probably 1500 people, most wearing overstretched spandex and ass hugging waist packs. For a moment I thought I was in Wisconsin.
We talked a bit about our expectations for the race. Matt had some ridiculous "I want to beak 24 minutes" goal. With my fucked up knees and after a night of partying, I would have been quite satisfied with 35 minutes.
The race started in downtown Rockford, Michigan and the course snaked through residential streets. After the starting gun sounded, it took about two minutes for the field to disperse enough for me to start running. Matt took off like a banshee, deftly maneuvering around the hordes of power-walking fat women, eventually clocking a 22:22. God damn respectable.
I was in a world of hurt at the beginning of the race, likely due to too much vomiting (or not quite enough). I had considerable difficulty trying to get a sustainable pace going. People (fatties in spandex) seemed to randomly alter course and veer into my running lane quite a bit.
Got my second wind right about the time a woman sprayed me with a garden hose from her front lawn. Not being from the area and not knowing exactly where the finish line was, I also had difficulty trying to determine when I should start sprinting. I ended up starting my final sprint too late, but I was able to pass a few people right at the finish. Ended up clocking in at 26:54. It’s not just good. It’s good enough.
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