Leader of the Back

I have done a lot of things in my life. Maybe not circumnavigate the globe, or wrestled alligators in a traveling circus side show while juggling chainsaws. But I have had some very interesting and memorable experiences though. Recently I set out to do something that I never in a million years thought I could have or would have done. I ran a 5k. Yes. You read that right. I, Drew, ran (and walked) several miles without stopping.
In the grand scheme of things, especially compared to the lofty ambition I have to participate in an Ironman Triathlon, it was a very small accomplishment to say the least. But in the landscape that is my life, this was a monumental moment that I will never forget. The day that I faced my anxiety and fears, to push beyond limits I had imposed on myself for the better part of 20 years.

It all started with my wife's new found affinity for the sport of running. Her drive to run was so inspiring and infectious, that when she brought up the idea of the 5k, I couldn't help but entertain the thought. It's important to re read that part about me entertaining the thought. Apparently that's not what my wife heard. Before I knew it there was a "ding" in my email inbox and my bank account was 50 bucks lighter. The subject line read,"Congratulation on your entry in the Valentines Day 5k Run!" What? I didn't sign up for this. It was almost as if I had been drafted into the army. When I confronted my wife about it, she played coy and swore up and down I said I would do it. I never even tried to argue because she knew me. She was fully aware of my need to prove a point and that it was time for me to take my knew found health for a spin.

The two weeks leading up to the event were spent trying to increase my running skills and distance. My only goal was to not be the one that came in last. I have to say that after a week had come and gone, I wasn't very confident I was gonna pull that off. I could just see myself getting lapped by the geriatric marathon set. I imagined me, stressing and straining to haul my 300 pound frame through the 4 mile course, all the while, being laughed at as everyone and their brother ran past me pointing. There were nights that scenario would play itself out in my nightmares and my enthusiasm for doing this thing really began to waver. But regardless of how I felt, the last thing I wanted to do was leave my wife to do this alone.

So I put on a brave face and trudged forward with the thought that even if I walked the whole thing, I was gonna finish it. The only problem with that particular line of thinking, for me, was that I'm a competitive person. There was no way that I was gonna be happy walking that thing. In my mind I was gonna have to really go for the gusto. I didn't care what it took. Last was no an option.

Another week faded into the past and my defining moment lingered in the near future. Our race packets were ready the day before and the wife and I went into Fleet Feet to pick up our number bibs and the inevitably ugly shirt that would tell the world that my fat ass ran for a cause. After picking up the numbers, we took the opportunity to have lunch together. As we ate, she excitedly ran down all the things we needed to do to get ready. As the list grew my stomach began to tense and the reality had set in. You would think I was having to make some sort of gut wrenching Sophie's choice or competing in an Ironman by the way I allowed my self to get twisted over it all. No matter how I felt, I wasn't gonna let my wife know the truth.

Morning came sooner than I wanted. She was up and about as if it was the first day of school after a long summer break. Her clothes were laid out the night before and double checked to make sure everything was in order for the big day. I on the other hand felt more like I was on my way to the dentist for a root canal. Might as well been. It was like pulling teeth to get me up and about. I had hoped that her excitement would finally rub off on me by now, but the brutal truth was something very different. I reluctantly suited up, pined on my number and made sure that my iPod was charged and ready.

Now, having never done this sort of thing before, I had no idea what to expect. We got to the race route an hour before the starting gun so Erin could meet up with Lisa, another Spark Person that lives in the town just Northeast of us. Our daughter made the mistake of saying she would come to cheer us on, not realizing that it would be 45 minuets before we crossed the finish line.

While all the participants milled about the vendor booths and stretched their hammies, I paced the parking lot just trying to get over this nagging feeling that I was gonna fail miserably. Before I knew it the distorted voice over the loud speaker encouraged us to take our places in the appropriate time bracket. I chose the 12 min walk/run mile section and took my place with my wife, Lisa, some soccer mom with strollers and the other recent health nuts with something to prove. With 5 minutes left before official take off, I put the earbuds in and decided to hit shuffle.

It was a gorgeous morning and as the music kicked in, I closed my eyes and let the sun fill my face with its warmth. The first song to come on was a slow and atmospheric number that seemed to calm my nerves and snapped me into a place of relaxation and comfort. The world around me looked like a silent movie. The music in my ears, becoming the soundtrack to what was going to be the hardest thing I have physically done since I started my new life.

The signal was given and the group of eager contestants lurched forward slowly, gradually increasing the pace until the leaders to took their rightful place at the front while the rest of us lingered in the back. The crowd of people around me ebbed and flowed, as my music continued at a slow pace. My stride mirrored it's slow rhythms and I soon found my groove. I just tried to focus on the pace and not the distance. As people around me pushed forward in gung ho fashion, I stayed the course and just lost myself in the power of the music.

Things stayed steady and before I knew it I had done something I had never done since high school. I ran a mile straight without walking! I could have quit the race at this point and already accomplished a lot, but as I said earlier, it's not in my nature to stop. With a mixture of determination and morbid curiosity, I pushed my self forward to see just how far I could go before my body cried uncle. Soon the mile and a half marker appeared on the horizon and I was still running. Before I knew it the two mile check point came into view and with my knees and lungs screaming for a break I reluctantly slowed my pace to a walk.

I kept a run walk pace for the remainder of the race. The other runners would come and go, but I stilled stayed the course. At points it was just me in the middle of the passionate many in the front and the determined few at the ass end of it all. It seems I was the leader of the back. It was a feeling that almost brought tears to my eyes. That was until my worst night mares were realized.

As I reached mile three and what was now the last leg of the course I decided to slow my pace and really relax into it. I wanted to make sure I finished strong so I decided to conserve my energy for the final push on the last half mile. No sooner had I made that decision, than a silver streak of lightning blew past me. As I wiped the sweat from my eyes I saw a woman that looked to be in her 80's lap me! This filled me with mixed emotions to say the least. On the one hand I was absolutely blown away that this woman was even upright, let alone running a 5k. Then my admiration turned to horror at the fact that I was getting my ass handed to me by Grandma Moses!

Regardless, I decided to keep my pace and finish the race my way. I almost gave in to that panic of being humiliated but took the high road instead. As I rounded the corner on the last half mile I could see the end was near. My wife, Lisa and my daughter were all waiting patiently for my visage to appear at the turn. Eventually I would over take the silver fox and go on to finish the race strong and in just under an hour.

As I crossed the finish line, the soundtrack of my iPod began to play Hallelujah. A song written by Leonard Cohen and sung by Jeff Buckley. As the sweetness of Jeff's falsetto sang the refrains of Hallelujah, I couldn't help but feel emotional at what had transpired over the last hour. In that short amount of time, I found a part of me I thought I had lost forever. All because of a misunderstanding and the need to prove to myself that the experience was worth every drop of sweat shed that day. It helped me to see that I deserve to follow my dreams and to be happy with myself for the first time in a very long time.