I've heard non-runners use the look of pain displayed on a runners face as their reason for not running. I actually think of it often and take care to smile or at least keep my face relaxed while I run so as not to ever let anyone use me, for whatever reason, as their reason to not run.
Well, to anyone who ever thought runners looked like they hated what they were doing.... This is what a very happy mediocre runner looks like.
There's actually a story behind that picture. It wasn't random that I had a ridiculous grin sprinting down the middle of that road. The photo was snapped as runners approached the finish line of the Purdue Half Marathon. It was a beautiful morning, about 60 degrees, perfect for running. I was eager to see if my new and improved hemoglobin level was going to reflect in my time. I actually had a slow start, but thankfully realized it soon enough that by mile two I was starting to pull up to where I wanted to be. About that time I passed an older gentleman in a green shirt, huffing and puffing already at mile two and barely picking up his feet. It was more of a shuffle than a run really. I had noted him and then promptly forgot as I pushed ahead. It was but a few miles later and I hear a quick slap, slap, slap of a runner at my 5 o'clock. A bit boggled at a runner announcing themself in such an obnoxious way I quick checked, and about tripped at the recognition of that same green shirt, covering his too big belly. For some odd reason, whether his shuffling gate, the way he led with his belly, or the way his tread proclaimed his approach, I took a strong distaste to his presence and pushed myself ahead. But then I'd hear it again. Coming up on my 5 o'clock, "slap, slap, slap" with a huff and a puff. I'd push ahead, refusing to let him pass me. But he'd always show up again, stuck to my 5 o'clock like icing on a cupcake. I couldn't shake him. Around mile 12 came a huge hill, running into the wind, and I finally thought I had my chance. I pushed it up that hill passing many, trying to encourage some to start running again, not daring to look back to check if I'd lost my shadow. And I didn't hear him for a bit... until I did again. slap, slap, slap, huff, puff. No way, I was determined and pushed it even harder. The last quarter mile was down hill, I had lost sound of the slap, slap, slap and as I sprinted for the finish line 2 things happened. 1) Nicole, Andrea and Callie (who had participated in the 5K) saw me and started loudly cheering 2) I saw the time clock at the finish line and was well under what my goal had been. The result, one very happy mediocre runner.
The point of that story is of course the annoyance at my 5 o'clock. All I had wanted was for him to go away. To let me run in peace. But in the end, he had pushed me beyond what I would have been able to do on my own. I ran a personal record.
He found me in the crowds at the finish line. He had to let me know he wasn't a stalker, and then he thanked me for setting such a good pace. He had a great race. I had a great race.
L to R: Heather (half), Callie (5K), Andrea (5K), Dave (half), Nicole (5K), me (half)
Andrea had told Dave to put his banana down for the picture.
On a side note, definite benefit to having oral review in audio format, I can run and study at the same time. But it was definitely clear throughout the race that I prefer to run with music in my ears rather than hemorrhagic pancreatitis, pelvic fractures and papillary thyroid carcinomas. Running is more of a decompression for me, which doesn't work too efficiently if I'm just studying the whole time. Anything for a season.
Much Love.
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