It's been two years since the passing of the Ringer. It sure doesn't seem like it's been that long already. Neither CT or I have been putting many miles in. Certainly, wouldn't call it training. If anything, my excuse is living life. Even though this is the traditional hometown race, didn't even decide to do it until the last minute. Under-trained, short notice, still felt right to do what we originally planned for the Ringer.
Mark this down as a first, when I say it was last minute, first race I've ever done where we walked up the morning of, put our money down and registered. This will be interesting. CT debated even doing a warm up, we both joked that our first mile will be a warm up. Meanwhile in the back of my head, I was actually worried adding more miles to the now daunting three point one of a 5K. We did do a little warm up, legs felt like rubber. CT confidently announced this pace felt good and demanded that I start my watch to tell her the current pace. It was a good pace, way too fast for a warm up, better than I expected. Still, zero expectations on this. This may be a race, but it's not going to feel like it.
On a day when I want to start this as the new tradition of this race also being a celebration for the Ringer, I kid you not, Jessie's Girl starts playing as the race starts. What are the chances? You almost can't make stuff up like this. CT runs in a Jesse's Girl shirt for her Dad and now that song has started to send us off.
"Jesse is a friend"....goes the gun. Just like every race, the youngsters go flying out the gate. Getting to the first straight away, it did seem like only the under twenty's up ahead. Granted, I knew I was running on adrenaline and was going faster than my lack of training could maintain. but honestly my mind was still trying to comprehend that song playing. The chances of that playing, in this moment, at this race, two years after, seem astronomical to me. Mile one clicks and it's not horrible, in fact, it's a bit impressive for the complete lack of running I've been doing lately. Of course being neck and neck with a kid who is probably twelve doesn't help either. In one moment, feel content to stay with him and call that a moral victory. But soon, he starts to die. Two other youngins up ahead, maybe catching them is possible.
Mile two, both yougins have been caught, but feel breathing down my neck and it sounds heavier than any of the kids I've passed, here it is, here's where my lack of training fails and I get angry at myself for doing this race for the Ringer and I get beat. Sure enough, a guy of 90% legs passes me. Looks younger, but it's so hard to tell sometimes but a good chance he's in my age group and he easily pulls away. Damn it.
The last mile has a couple of very small hills in it. Going up the first, gained ground on legs. That damn song, the Ringer is watching this, it's too much of a coincidence. Getting beat by somebody I can't see is one thing, but not taking a chance with legs isn't an option and time to dig deep. Going into the final turn, I could tell he was dead. Don't get me wrong, my body hated me, was questioning what the hell I was doing after taking so much time off, but I knew going into the final hill that I could kick harder if I had to and legs didn't have a chance. Maybe the Ringer was pushing, who knows.
Went back to cheer CT up the final hill. Different face on her. When the Ringer was here to watch her, after surprising her, she was nothing but a smile up this hill. Today, was all business. Okay, mostly it was lack of training or possibly the three times she vomited during her run, but hey she always has said "if you didn't puke, you didn't run hard enough".
In the end, we both got first, just like it should have been two years ago. It's two years late, but these were the results I pictured. This picture was not, simply going to label this one "Smells like a winner". Pretty sure the Ringer would laugh at the picture and something tells me he was watching.
No comments:
Post a Comment