 |
| Image Source: Melody Burri, Messenger Post Media What up! In the zone right here! |
This is the 21st blog
post I have written (I am patting myself on the back). I had planned on the 21st post to
address and explain 21 Orchard, but given the ever-changing nature of the world
(I sound so philosophical) the plans changed and that post will have to
wait. The change happened for a good
reason though.
Saturday’s events were LEGEN… wait
for it, I’ve obviously been watching way too much How I Met Your Mother… DARY!
Yes, like Barney I am very liberal with the use of the term “legendary,”
but this account is still worth sharing.
The story begins with a flashback to this past Tuesday. After a short a period of absence from the
gym I went to pump some iron that night.
I did my usual chest and triceps workout, which is pretty exhausting and
enough to make me want to devour a 30-gram protein bar in under a minute. When I was finished, I didn’t leave, and I
didn’t have the chocolaty peanut buttery bar in my hand ready for annihilation.
I wasn’t completely finished. When I
first registered at this YMCA I saw that there were a variety of exercise
classes held each day that I had access to as a member (can you say VIP?). This
Tuesday I figured I would buckle down and participate in the core-workout class
right after weight lifting. I consider
myself to be pretty athletic and felt prepared for this 25-minute session. In short, it was definitely a workout and
more than I expected. I was using
muscles that I haven’t probably ever used, and the rest periods were, well,
there were none. I felt great afterwards
though! It was an intense trip to the
gym. I woke up the next morning, but
probably shouldn’t have. For the next
three days I was sorer than I have been in ages. It felt like Ivan Drago had used my midsection
as a punching bag for a half hour straight.
I know why my muscles were sore, but why were my ribs!? Anyway, it was very uncomfortable, and during
those days all I wanted to do was lay down (and watch How I Met Your Mother).
While I was in this state of
recovery I was worried. What was I
worried about? I felt like I wasn’t
going to be able to compete in the 5K race that I had signed up for, which was
to be held in a few short days. I had
dropped $20.00 for the race which would be my first of the kind. I didn’t want the money to be lost, and I had
been so excited to compete. I enjoy
going for runs, and I figured the race could be a lot of fun. Also, it had been a while since I had been a
part of a competition. Fantasy football
is definitely competitive, but it doesn’t have that physicality I need! On Friday night I knew that there would be a
game-time decision for this early-morning 5K.
I came home from work, ate, and went to bed early (my aching body needed
only two things: protein and sleep). I’d
mention the exact time I hit the hay, but then I might be likened to a 70
year-old man; I will not stand for that!
I woke up on Saturday with enough
time to make my decision. Bam! It was made!
I was doing this thing. I woke up
feeling refreshed, and ready to conquer the world. I made it to the race location, received my
number, and gathered with the rest of the runners. I was there to compete and despite the sight
of some very conditioned athletes, I was still pumped and ready to perform.
I had my back-up iPod in hand,
because my go-to iPod had died a few weeks back. The aging iPod Mini in my grasp was an
unreliable piece of audio equipment, but I was hoping it could last the race
(more incentive to run fast). Blondie’s Heart of Glass was all queued up (I’m an 80s music fan) and
ready to send some motivating vibes through my ears, but the iPod battery shut
down immediately and the screen turned darker than night. Seconds later the signal was given to start
the race. I started running, and I kept
hold to the ounces of electrical circuitry that once brought me musical
pleasure, but now was nothing more than a piece of junk weighing me down.
After 15 seconds I was in third
place overall! I told myself to start
strong and feel the pace of the front-runners.
They were fast indeed! I was soon
passed by some sweaty bodies (so much for third), but after a while I felt like
I was in a good position and moving at a decent pace. The occasional runner passed me as I
continued forward. There were a lot of
hills and I was definitely feeling it in my legs and lungs. I still had the iPod in my hand and I wanted
to get rid of it. As I passed one of the
volunteers on the road I lofted the mp3 player to him and said, between breaths,
“You can have it!” He looked at me
strangely, but caught it and gave a nod of understanding. Bam!
The worthless iPod was gone. I would be
able to sprint ahead feeling lighter than ever right? In a dream world, yes. In the real world, no. It was nice having my hands free, but that
didn’t mean much for the rest of my body.
There was a lot of road ahead and I had to maintain my pace. I tucked the headphone jack into my waistband (they're decent headphones) and carried on.
As I continued up and down the
route (mostly up considering the long hills) I saw spectators on the side of
the road. They made positive and
inspirational comments and held out cups of water for the runners! I thought to myself, “This is awesome. I’ve
only seen this kind of stuff on television.”
I wasn’t thirsty and wasn’t over heated, but I grabbed a cup of water
and threw it back in my face and neck like a seasoned veteran. I couldn’t pass it up. I had to immerse myself in the experience.
After that brief splash of
amusement, I realized there was still about a mile left. After that “checkpoint” where I knew the
distance, I was starting to struggle. I
asked two people on the side of the road how far the finish line was, but they
apparently had no clue. A handful of
minutes passed and I was wondering how much longer I could hold out. Then, I heard someone off to the right say,
“Keep it up! Only a hundred yards left.” At that moment I thought to myself,
“Whew! Let’s finish this baby
strong!” I looked ahead, and I could see
the finish line. There were two men
ahead of me, within striking distance! I
kicked it into sprint mode (as close to it as possible) and I saw the distance
between myself and the other two runners lessen. I was going to do it! I had the adrenaline pumping and I managed to
pass both of them. I leaned forward as I
crossed the finish line (a little dramatic in hindsight) and was elated to have
had such a strong and successful push at the end. I was done.
I spent some time regaining my
breath and took a seat on a curb. A
woman came up to me shortly after and said, “You’re just the man I’m looking
for. What’s your name?” That happens to me all the time with random
women (I wish). Anyway! Me.
Picture. Newspaper. Bam! I
don’t consider myself to be photogenic, but something about my final effort to
the finish caught this woman’s eye, and she snapped the shot featured
above.
A little later I checked the
finish times, and although a lot of individuals finished before me I placed 1st
in my age group (19-24)! Success! A few days prior I was struggling to
straighten my torso, but in this moment I was a champ.
The awards ceremony took place
about an hour later. I was so hungry at
that point. Much to my surprise, I had
won not only a blue ribbon but a $10.00 gift certificate to a restaurant as
well. It happened to be a restaurant
right near my apartment that I had wanted to try. That was convenient. The gyro I ended up having definitely hit the
spot.
All in all it was a wonderful
day. I had an awesome experience, met
some great people before and after the race, and gained some motivation to
continue pushing my physical limits and enter more races and competitions in
general.
Compete! It gives you a shot at winning, which is
always a great feeling, and even if you don’t win, the experience is usually
thrilling and filled with fun. If you
find yourself in a similar position that I did, uncertain about competing
because of some reason (soreness), think about the wise words coined by some
unknown advertising copywriter working for Nike and “just do it.”
Bam!
No comments:
Post a Comment