One 5k down

I never thought I’d see the day where I was looking forward to spending a day of my weekend running.  But last weekend I participated in my first 5k.  I had a blast.  Notice I said participated in and not ran in.  I did a walk/run type deal.  It was my first 5k cut me some slack and stop laughing at me.  Anyway, the race was for one of my wife’s friends who has a little 8 year old girl with brain cancer.  My resolution this year was to run at least one 5k, what better way to meet that resolution than to run one that’s supporting a cause close to us.  Over 600 people showed up to run, and I’m slower than half of them.  Let me tell you who all I’m slower than.  A 60 year old hippy, he beat me by a solid 20 minutes, a 8 year old girl in a tutu and a boa beat me by a solid 20 minutes, some military cadets bested me by more minutes than I wish to admit.  It’s ok though, I finished, I pushed through to the end.  I only let my fat swollen cankle slow me down a little bit.  That’s right I said cankle.  For some strange reason my left ankle just starts swelling on its own when I run.  I’ve got pictures to prove it if you want to be grossed out.  It also didn’t help that I miss timed my eating.  I was scared to eat too close to the start of the race, and so I ended up missing what I thought would be my window to eat.  After about a mile down my stomach started to growl and I was having to fight hunger pains, as well as fight to breath.  My only saving grace was the nice cool breeze I felt every time some highly trained sponsored professional athlete went flying by me.  And when I say highly trained sponsored professional athlete what I mean is 8 and 9 year old little girls, or soccer moms pushing double strollers.  Another way to tell if they’re a professional is if they take the cup of water, and drink while running.  I took the exchange cleanly, one step closer to being a pro, then I proceeded to completely miss my mouth with the water as I tried to drink and run.  Drinking through your nose while trying to run is not something I would suggest to anyone.  But the cool water splashing on my face, chest and legs was almost as refreshing as jumping into a cool pool on a hot summers day, complete with sucking half the pool up through your nose.  After ingesting half a sip of water through my mouth and a huge gulp through my nose, I discarded the cup and kept on trucking.
At the end of the race you were given a choice, they hand you a bottle of water and a free banana, OR you could go and pay to eat a chick-fil-a sandwich.  Guess what this guy opted for?  That’s right, nothing caps off a good run like a fried chicken sandwich.  But one $3.50 fired chicken sandwich just wasn’t enough to fill this huge void in my gut.  So we headed straight from the race with my racing gear still on, number on my chest and all, to Steak and Shake where I devoured a poor unsuspecting Frisco Melt, cookies and cream milk shake, and fries.
I don’t know how much money was raised for Tori, but I hope whatever it was it really helps the family. 
If you want to see why I ran, please check out this video.