My 5K Run Experience…

Monday, March 31st, 2008 @ 6:38PM

My 5K Run Experience....

Hey

Here it is…..For The Standard Examiner

  Bang!!  The sound of the starter pistol marks the beginning of the sometimes overlooked 5K running season. And we are off! Could it be here already?
  Over 2000 people gathered on a cold, windy Saturday morning for the annual Golden West Credit Union 5K run in South Ogden. I started off the day looking out my bedroom window hoping for a new foot of snow and blizzard conditions. They would cancel it for sure, right?  No such luck. How about locusts? Potato famine? Writers’ strike? Anything? ugh….. There’s no bailing out now.  I needed energy.  I ate my usual breakfast which consists of a cold 16 ounce Diet Rock Star sports drink and two Frosted Strawberry Pop Tarts, toasted to perfection.  Delicious!  Off we go.  My wife, my son Jake and me.
  The 5K enthusiast comes in all shapes, temperaments and sizes. There are runners, sprinters, joggers, amateurs, professionals, strollers, skippers (yep, those), kids, dads, moms, hippies, rednecks, retirees, toddlers, freaks, teachers, Republicans, Democrats (must be from Sugarhouse), members, non-members, meat eaters, posers, schmoozers, bishops, vegetarians, hypocrites and even an occasional smoker, joker and a midnight toker. 
  Why do so many put themselves through this?  Is it peer pressure?  Fitness? Boredom?  Checking out Ogden’s singles’ scene?  You do get the sweet t-shirt. What about the free bottled water and orange slices?  Everyone has their reason. I have mine.
  The 5K run for me is a measuring stick against time. Every year I get older and ‘Father Time’ is chasing me like the past is chasing Eliot Spitzer. Time is running out—just ask Hillary Clinton. The 5K is my Super-Delegate. The clock is ticking and it never stops brother, like it or not. I am fighting ‘the inevitable’ with all I got. At any moment it could all fall apart faster than you can say Milli Vanilli.
  I know that I won’t win any trophies, medals, proclamations or certificates.  It’s a dead giveaway that you are not ‘in it to win it’ when the Wal-Mart sticker is still on your canvas loafers.  How am I going to be able to out-run someone that is in even reasonable shape?  I am not going to be recognized as ‘that dude that can flat-out fly.’  When I run it sounds like someone is loading a corduroy couch onto the back of an El Camino.  Who would see me as a threat?  The threat is the clock.  The competition is against myself.  My goal is to improve my finish time each year. You get a little older and the time gets a little lower. That’s the idea.
    I ran in this same 5K last year.  3.2 torturous miles.  My time?  It’s personal.
The start of the run was potentially disastrous.  As soon as the starter pistol sounded, I dropped my Walk Man radio on the pavement.  Well, that strategy was blown.  The music would have provided a soundtrack inspiring me to a new personal best.  I would surely shatter last year’s time.  Well, what can you do?
    I attempted to separate myself from the pack of hundreds of runners because I am a little claustrophobic.  I was passed by a pack of Cub Scouts and a guy who ran backwards the entire way.  Not good.
The route for this year’s event was different than last.  More hills. Who cares?  I can do this.  “Gird up your loins….”
    As I neared the finish line I could see the clock (thanks to Lasik).  Unbelievable!  It was all within reach.  I crossed the finish line and indeed,  I did do it.  A new record for me.  My age may be going up but my time is going down.  Mission accomplished.  See you next year ‘Father Time.’
  Now, will somebody get me my free bottled water and orange slices?  It’s starting to snow.

Keith Stubbs
http://www.keithstubbs.com