Parent Race

I had my qualms about participating in a mile race. It's just a mile, but an all out mile, and heaven forbid if I slip and trip and twist something that isn't supposed to be twisted right after I finish mending from a silly injury playing with my kids a few weeks ago. It might be an irrational fear, but with so many hours invested over the past 15 weeks training for the Indy Marathon, it would be a shame to squander it on a 1-mile race. 

The Hawk's Fall Classic traditionally consists of an elementary school race and a middle school race. It is a pretty low stakes kind of fun run for the kids to have a race experience. I mentioned to the coach last year while all the parents were milling around that we should have a parent race in between. I ment it, but didn't put an ounce of effort into the idea. Then, low and behold, the race announcement came and there it was in between the middle schooler race and elementary race - a parent race. 

So, with my running enthusiasm, how could I forgo participating? Would I be all talk and no action? Nah. I wanted it. Although the race is chip timed, it is sort of an informal start. "Ready....Go." I wasn't quite ready as I adjusted my watch, but booked it off the line with two other dads. Although I hit the gas in the first 200 meters, I quickly fell into third place and settled into an uncomfortable pace, unable to close the gap between myself and the runners in front of me. 

Last time I ran a mile trial it happened in a controlled track environment, not on grass. I could sense by my shortness of breath, I must be going faster than even my fastest typical training paces. I wanted to stop and abandon, but clearly with my pride on the line and a whole host of kids (never mind the other parent spectators) I trucked along. 

Somewhere around the bend around the .75 mile mark, I noticed the run in front of me started running out of steam. It happened in slow motion with just the slight enough to see his steam leaking out, but would the leak be enough for me to catch up? After all, it wasn't as though I felt anywhere close to fresh myself. "Just hold on" I thought as I watched for the moment to make a move. 

The moment came with about 100 meters left in the race. The finishing chute between some flags narrowed the room for maneuvering. I turned over my legs as fast as I could and came up from behind, deciding to pass on the right, but that space closed off as he stepped in that direction-forcing me to the left. With the finish line in view only 3 seconds ahead I made a break for it, counting my steps to stay focused. 

Second place. 6:01.37

Satisfactory. Losing by .78 seconds isn't the best feeling, but the first place winner rightly deserved the win.

We all ended up with cool participation ribbons. 

If nothing else, I think it was probably good for the kids to watch their parents participating in sport by modeling winning, losing, completing the effort, and (from the looks of it) having fun.



 

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