I participated in the 32nd Troutdale Trot and Walk this morning. I mostly walked it, had a goal of finishing in 2 hours (I had previously walked it on my treadmill in about 2.5 hours), and ended up crossing the finishing line near the front of the pack in 1 hour, 38 minutes and 39 seconds.
First race.
First number thingy for my scrapbook.
First sports injury (GIANT blister and a black toenail) ...
... unless you count the time at the Youth Group softball game when Tim Sivacek barreled into me at 2nd base, bending my thumb backward and giving me a slight strain. Tim, if you're reading this, I still maintain that that was completely unnecessary! Anyway, I don't count that, because Youth Group softball is supposed to be for fun and walking/running 6.7 miles clearly isn't.
I started at the back of the pack and thought this was going to be a healthy but leisurely stroll through downtown Troutdale and along the scenic Historic Columbia River Highway. You know, where I'd have time to hear birds singing and admire spring flowers. (Oooh! I did see a baby salamander, but he looked pretty flat so I think someone in the crowd accidentally stomped on him. And lots of slugs, since it had been raining. Slippery!) I sure was shocked when they fired the gun and everyone's hips started swinging around in that way that only speedwalking elicits. I felt instantly doomed. Since we would be passing my street around the 2 mile mark, I thought maybe I'd just take a little (race-ending) pitstop at home.
On the first big hill, I discovered I had a competitive spirit. I started burning past people who were hotshots at first, and then started playing little games like "I have to pass the next group of people in less than 100 steps". I passed more and more groups until I had the front-runners in view. I got tired of walking and would jog for a while, then walk again. This helped to cure the boredom of no music and no walking buddy (Steve, you selfish jerk, heal already!), and the shin splits I always get when I walk quickly but don't get when I jog slowly. Not that there's a real discernible difference between those two to the casual observer ..
It wasn't my goal to win, but to complete as quickly as possible. I held back on the jogging when I realized some ladies were calling me a cheater. Good grief, gals! So while I'm absolutely confident I could have jogged more and come in first (What?? Crazy talk!!), out of respect for the walkers, I held back.
What a crazy sensation. Walking, but itching to jog. Discovering a competitive spirit that could serve me well in future races. Even the fact that I'm considering future races .. who am I???
At the very end, I caught up to a hefty gal who was kicking butt. I told her she was amazing, because she was. I'd had my eye on her for a while and had finally caught up to her. She told me she was trying to beat last year's time, and was on track to do so by a good 20 minutes, and that she was walking it 75 pounds lighter this year. As if that wasn't enough, she's training to participate in the Hood To Coast relay this year. What an inspiration! (I didn't let her beat me, though.)
Next year, I'll trot. In the meantime, I'll look for other opportunities. And a new pair of sneakers, and some pretty nail polish to cover my disgusting toenail.
First sports injury (GIANT blister and a black toenail) ...
... unless you count the time at the Youth Group softball game when Tim Sivacek barreled into me at 2nd base, bending my thumb backward and giving me a slight strain. Tim, if you're reading this, I still maintain that that was completely unnecessary! Anyway, I don't count that, because Youth Group softball is supposed to be for fun and walking/running 6.7 miles clearly isn't.
I started at the back of the pack and thought this was going to be a healthy but leisurely stroll through downtown Troutdale and along the scenic Historic Columbia River Highway. You know, where I'd have time to hear birds singing and admire spring flowers. (Oooh! I did see a baby salamander, but he looked pretty flat so I think someone in the crowd accidentally stomped on him. And lots of slugs, since it had been raining. Slippery!) I sure was shocked when they fired the gun and everyone's hips started swinging around in that way that only speedwalking elicits. I felt instantly doomed. Since we would be passing my street around the 2 mile mark, I thought maybe I'd just take a little (race-ending) pitstop at home.
On the first big hill, I discovered I had a competitive spirit. I started burning past people who were hotshots at first, and then started playing little games like "I have to pass the next group of people in less than 100 steps". I passed more and more groups until I had the front-runners in view. I got tired of walking and would jog for a while, then walk again. This helped to cure the boredom of no music and no walking buddy (Steve, you selfish jerk, heal already!), and the shin splits I always get when I walk quickly but don't get when I jog slowly. Not that there's a real discernible difference between those two to the casual observer ..
It wasn't my goal to win, but to complete as quickly as possible. I held back on the jogging when I realized some ladies were calling me a cheater. Good grief, gals! So while I'm absolutely confident I could have jogged more and come in first (What?? Crazy talk!!), out of respect for the walkers, I held back.
What a crazy sensation. Walking, but itching to jog. Discovering a competitive spirit that could serve me well in future races. Even the fact that I'm considering future races .. who am I???
At the very end, I caught up to a hefty gal who was kicking butt. I told her she was amazing, because she was. I'd had my eye on her for a while and had finally caught up to her. She told me she was trying to beat last year's time, and was on track to do so by a good 20 minutes, and that she was walking it 75 pounds lighter this year. As if that wasn't enough, she's training to participate in the Hood To Coast relay this year. What an inspiration! (I didn't let her beat me, though.)
Next year, I'll trot. In the meantime, I'll look for other opportunities. And a new pair of sneakers, and some pretty nail polish to cover my disgusting toenail.
