I’m not a runner. And until last July I wasn’t even a walker. For almost 20 years I have been Co-Chairman of the St. Jerome One Mile Classic but I never walked that mile. I wasn’t a walker. A mile was too far. I didn’t want the ambulance to ride my tail. Oh, I had every excuse in the book.
Last July I took up walking. I wanted to see what the fuss was about and I wasn’t going to run because I’m not a runner. But I enjoy walking and it really did help with the aches in my joints and in my back. So each day I would go a little further. I walked my first 5K last July. So of course, I thought I was ready for the 5K at Fancy Farm. I mean, how hard could it be?
I’ll tell you how hard it could be. It takes place in August. August. Only the hottest month in the year in this part of Kentucky. But it takes place at 7 PM so the sun has gone down by then and it’s a little cooler, right? Hello? Can you say HUMIDITY! In this part of Kentucky the humidity is so bad that you can cut it with a knife. Even with the sun down.
And the route that this 5K takes shows no mercy. There’s an incline about 1/2 mile out. That’s bad enough but then you have to go down this huge hill. I don’t go downhill very gracefully. Most of the time I fall. And if I’m walking fast I’m going to fall. So the entire time you have to concentrate on not walking too fast so that the momentum won’t take your feet out from under you. But once your down the hill you still have about a mile before you have to go BACK UP THE HILL!
Going uphill has always been easier for me than going downhill but this hill doesn’t stop. You walk at least 1/2 mile before it starts to level off again and you can catch your breath.
The rest of the trip should be easy, right? It’s easier but it seems to take forever to get back to town and then even further to get to the finish line.
Last year I was the last one over the start line and the last one over the finish line. I didn’t come in last because there was at least one person who dropped out so I claim to have beat them. But that ambulance was riding my tail. I didn’t care. I had a pace going and I wasn’t going to go any faster. But I was going to make it over the finish line.
And I did. I got my t-shirt to prove it. And I got a medal for 3rd place because I was in an age bracket that wasn’t heavily populated. Yeah, I conquered that hill.
Let me tell you I told people that hill wasn’t too bad. I told them that going down was so much harder than going up. I wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Yeah, that was before I started training to do the 5K again this year.
I had been walking about once a week, a mile or two. Every once in awhile I would throw a 5K in there. Yeah, I wasn’t scared. So a week before the picnic I started walking every day. Yeah, I was going to be ready. And I would walk the full route on Tuesday or Wednesday and be ready for Friday. Yeah, no prob.
Yeah, that was a mistake. I got up real early one morning and decided to tackle the route. I would walk a mile out and then a mile back in. Yeah, I could handle that. The full 5K was in my grasp. But then the next morning I walked the full route. All I can say is WHAT WAS I THINKING?
I’m old. I’m out of shape. I never learned how to breathe right. Although my mouth got dry the biggest problem was I couldn’t decide whether to take a deep breath on that hill and catch my breath or just breathe enough to make it up the hill. My lungs burned. I knew I was going to hyperventilate. What was I thinking?
But once I got back up the hill I was very proud of myself.
And I decided I might walk a mile or two the next day or the day before the race but I was ready. My ankles hurt a little, my heel was giving me trouble, but hey I just needed to rest and I would be okay.
The next day one of my walking buddies asked if I would walk it with her. She had never done it and wanted some moral support. Hey, I felt all right. It wasn’t too hot. Yeah, I could do that.
WHAT WAS I THINKING? I mean, we talk when we walk so that got me out of breath anyway. But walking that hill twice in two days was just stupid. I couldn’t decide if my heel would ever let me walk again. I couldn’t decide if that little blister that was forming by my big toe was going to turn into a blister or ease up. I couldn’t decide if my hip would ever like me again. I couldn’t decide what hurt more.
When I got home my husband asked how far I went. When I told him the whole way he was so mad at me. He told me that I was not going to feel like tackling that hill on Friday. He’s never been like that with me. It felt pretty good. But every time I whined about something that hurt he told me that he didn’t want to hear it. He was right. I didn’t want to hear it.
So I do plan on getting out there tomorrow night and taking my place at the back of the starting line. Hopefully this year there will be someone else slower than I am. But if not that’s okay too. Just so long as the ambulance doesn’t have to pick my tail up off of the asphalt and haul me away I’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ll have lots of aches and pains to complain about on Saturday but I do that anyway. It won’t matter. I’ll be too busy selling barbecue!