Back in early January I shared Karen’s story as she prepared for the Charleston Marathon on Saturday, January 14th. It was a story of preparation…both physical and mental. A couple days ago I asked Karen how she did. Here is the epilogue of Karen’s story:
I would love to tell you that I kept it cool at the starting line when the man yelled, “Go.” I really would. But I can’t. And as I reflect on this past week-end, all of that seems rather obtuse now, so I’m not going to belabor my performance and will instead describe race week-end events that have inspired me to become a better runner.
Friday: The clock strikes one and its packet pickup time with a friend. We arrive at the expo tent to find teenage boys just outside working on an art project and seeing this acutely reminds me what this race is about. We enter and take the crowd in. Social, professional, economic statuses vanish. “Age and beauty” are turned upside down. And this, if you’re not accustomed to it, may take some getting used to. Supportive words are given freely, upcoming events that you’d be crazy to miss are mentioned, and many quality products are suggested. Oh, and we pick up our bibs, goody bags and very awesome t-shirts.
Friday night: “Carb loading suppers” are for endurance runners, but my friend and I are doing the 5k, not running the half or full marathon. We do, however hate cooking and doing dishes, so it all works out. Tonight, our plates are piled with spaghetti and breadsticks. Three gentlemen are scoping seats while balancing their own plates of pasta and I invite them to sit by us. No telling the age of these men because conditioned people defy stereotypical aging. Two of these Virginians do drop their ages: 72 and 76. They are 26.2 mile vets. I immediately grill them for advice and the lively conversation remains effortless. Very inspiring.
Saturday at an ungodly hour: I get to the Shipyard, warm up, inch my way to the start line, and go! Everything is a blur after that until after the race when I witness two friends finish their race. I cheer loudly and really wish I had a cowbell. Back at the tent, I connect with recent friends, trainers, and multiple colleagues, all of whom have encouraged me along my journey. Blue Dogs are on stage, artwork is displayed for all to enjoy, and because the 5k start time was pushed an hour later this year, shrimp, grits and beer are all mine to enjoy!
So, what, you may ask, did I accomplish if all I did was socialize, eat, drink, and I didn’t even meet my intended running goal? Well, I had a long week-end to mull that over and here it is: Running goals for us mere mortals are allowed, nay, are expected to be tweaked and perfected. Signs are everywhere not to let goals go run amok. I’ll eventually control my splits (times) in a race setting, no worries there. This week-end reminded me that I don’t run to be a better conditioned robot. I do it to become a better person and only then will greater goals be met.
