I ran my first-ever 5K today. My lungs are shouting at my brain for not telling them how long a "K" was.
It wasn't any big deal, of course- it was just a fun run, to raise money for a local domestic violence shelter. Seems a good a cause as any to get off my butt.
It... probably wasn't the best day for it. It was nice and sunny, yes, but it was hot and humid. And I'm certain I didn't drink enough water before the race started. I thought I'd be OK.
Thing is, they were kind of new at doing a run... and it showed. Things were pretty cool until I got about halfway through and suddenly, there were no more signs. I stopped, tried to ask directions, and then farted around until I found approximately where I thought I was supposed to go. Then I finally saw the other sign, and it pointed directly back the way I had just come. Now, by this point, I was pretty much the only one running this part of the course because the rest of the pack had completely passed me by.
I finally figured out the right direction to go and limped along down by the river as what I am certain is exercise induced asthma started to kick in. This made me wheeze and it kind of felt like someone was strangling me. It would have been slightly less bad if it hadn't been for the goose that either thought I was insulting his mother or hitting on him.
That got me to run again.
But you know what, I finished- dead last, but I finished. That's better than not, and miles ahead of never started.
- The Angry Geologist Runs For It