My goal is not to run a marathon. Or even a half-marathon. At least not at this point. I don’t think there’s enough asthma medication in the world that would allow me to do it. Not yet.
I would like to be able to run an entire 5K though. While I have enjoyed telling others about my “ralking” (run/walking), it does take a bit too much explanation, despite the term’s presence in the Urban Dictionary.
My third 5K: running in the rain
5K number three was the Jamie’s Fund Road Race in Mansfield, MA. (The Jamie Fund supports children with special needs.) It was a gloomy kind of day, and I had reservations about even going out to do it. But Hubby kept insisting that running in the rain was the best way to go (that’s his Army training speaking), so I relented. One thing about this running business is it certainly gets you up early on a weekend morning.
Running is not just about getting to the finish and trying not to fall over while you’re doing it.
OK, it’s mostly about that.
But being able to contribute to small but worthy causes is appealing. It almost makes up for all the sweat and the tomato-face. Almost.
The gateway at Julia's Garden.
The Julia Foundation
A glutton for punishment, I signed up for my second event: the Butterfly 5K in North Attleboro, MA. It was in support of The Julia Cekala Charitable Foundation, created in memory of nine-year-old Julia, who died after suffering numerous illnesses during her short life. The foundation supports the local community through the building and maintaining of Julia’s Garden and Playground in the World War I Park in North Attleboro.
To say I was unprepared for my inaugural road race is an understatement.
My expression conceals my fear pre-5K No 1. I may never look this relaxed again.
Army hubby, who had started running about six months before, was picking up his “packet” (which I was quite sad to learn did not contain potato chips) for the 2011 Chick fil-A 5K and Running of the Cows in Newport News, Va, when he turned to me and said: “You want to do it too?”
“Errrrrr, sure,” I replied, promptly breaking out into a lavish sweat. I am an asthmatic, you see. I know that means little at a time when every second athlete seems to be sporting a puffer, but it has always kept me from doing anything that even remotely resembles running.