Reflections on a 5k

This past Saturday I participated in my first 5k.  The race was hosted in Plano, TX, by the Heroes for Children organization.  This wonderful cause was created by two ladies who lost kids to childhood cancers, and the organization provides assistance to families who are enduring similar troubles in their life.   I am very proud and honored to have run my first-ever 5k (and first ever athletic event of any kind) in support of this organization.

I did pretty good on the 5k, considering that I had never done one before and am nursing a balky knee.  I am not quite far enough along in my training regimen to run 3 miles yet, so I walked about half of it and ran what I could.  I did finish on a run, though, and logged a "chip time" of 40:41.   I'm quite pleased with that, as my only goals for this were to finish and attempt to finish in less than 45 minutes.  I was just below the average for runners in my age/gender division.  

Some random thoughts from the events of the day:

1.  I was saddened that my family was not able to attend the event and watch me run.  The vagaries of the fall soccer season for my boys prevented that... but I know my lovely wife and handsome boys were cheering me on in spirit.

2.  Some guys would scoff at this, but I could have sworn some moisture from Hurricane Ike got in my eyes during the pre-race ceremonies as we heard the tale of the founders' kiddoes that died from cancer, and were introduced to children who are currently fighting the greatest fight of their young lives.   Somehow the moisture got there about an hour before it started raining.  Go figure.

3.  A young man named Carson, who is battling cancer, has a LOT of people who love him.  They were all there, in powder-blue tshirts emlazoned with "Carson's Crusaders" on it.   I think I counted at least 30 or more.   My prayers are with that young man... he is looking great right now, and I hope that he continues to kick his adversary right in the teeth.

4.  I saw one of the Geico cavemen there.  I kid you not, there was one guy in the crowd with quite a beard and hairdo.....

5.  And then there was the guy in the kilt... and he ran the 5k.  I passed him at one point.  Fortunately, the tropical storm winds had not arrived yet... I had no desire to see how authentic his mode of dress was.....

6.  In mile 3 of the run, I figured out that I was a "pacer".  I powerwalked most of the third mile before running the final 1/8 or so to the finish.  However, when I powerwalk, I am really booking it.  Consequently, I would pass people all the time who had dropped to a walk as well.  I would get a ways ahead of them and then they would run again, just a little bit past me, then drop to a walk again... and I would pass them again in short order.    I began to get the sense that they would say  "Hey!  the fat guy is passing me again... I gotta run!"  :-)

7.  Doing athletic things makes you appreciate food afterwards.   The body has a sense that you've earned it to some degree.   A sausage biscuit with egg NEVER tasted so good as it did Saturday morning.

8.  Finally.... my feelings about my first 5k are in no way reflected by my spot in the final rankings.  I knew I was not ready to 'compete' in any fashion.   But this 5k is the first milestone that I can point to in my quest to live a more active, healthy life.  I entered a running competition and I finished, and finished on my terms with a good run.  It is something that I am extremely proud for having done, and I can't wait to do another one.... and to someday do one after having climbed off my bike, 2/3 of the way through a triathlon!

Phelps still has nothing to worry about...

But the swimming is finally getting better!  I finally have figured out how all the parts work, and now I'm swimming pretty consistently.  There is still a lot of refining to do, and I keep a constant eye on my mechanics, but now the basic stroke is built, and I'm toodling down the pool in good fashion.

The key was the breathing.  I finally settled on a "2" breathing pattern.  (Breathing on the same side, every time that arm comes up out of the water over your head).   The trick to it was learning to take smaller breaths, rather than gulping a big lungful, which is what I was doing before.  This didn't work because I didn't have time to exhale it before it was time to breathe again, and you need to have it timed where you have exhaled it all through your nose and are ready to inhale as soon as your head comes out of the water.  Once I learned to "half-breathe", it all started to fall into place.

I'm no speed demon, but I was surprised at how quickly I can get down the pool now that I have the basic stroke down.  Feels pretty good, actually.  Now, I can really start to train for this portion of the triathlon, working on refining the mechanics and stretching my endurance.  

I still have a long way to go, but now I can really get started on the journey.

A long-expected day

Yesterday, I watched with pride as my son Matthew finally got to experience a day he has anticipated for the better part of three years.  In the second half of his first soccer game of the season, my son pulled on a keeper's jersey, put on his gloves, and played his first game as a goalkeeper.

As I said earlier, he has wanted this for years.  He fell in love with the defensive aspects of soccer as soon as he was old enough to appreciate the game.  However, the recreational soccer organization in our city does not use GK's until the boys reach the U9 stage.  For awhile now, my son has played sweeper, and has been the last line of defense for his team despite the fact that he could not use his hands.    In the last couple of years, the team has played on a much larger field, with a 6'x12' goal... and no keeper.  We have seen **a lot*** of goals scored from the midline or worse.

And so, I've watched him as he tried to defend this huge goal without being able to use his hands.

That changed yesterday, and it was a joy to see one of my sons get to fulfill a dream.  Granted, he's young, and it's not quite the equivalent of starting in goal for ManU, but it's still his dream.. and he had waited almost half his lifetime to see it realized.

In order to make his debut the best we could for him, we sent him to a top-notch goalkeeping camp this summer, and have arranged for him to get keeper training from specialized coaches throughout the season.  He threw himself into the training with gusto, and it showed as he stepped into his goal.   He walked like a keeper, stalked like a keeper, and played like a keeper.  He had just a touch of that attitude-- "this is MY goal, and you stay out".

And he played very well in his debut.  He allowed three goals, but saved many more, proving to be quite fearless the whole time.  After only one game, his teammates dubbed him "Brick Wall".  Even the opposing coach, whose team is one of the best in the whole association, took time in the congratulatory handshake line to compliment him on his play.

Needless to say, I was brimming with pride.  But even more than pride... I was filled with satisfaction.  Pride comes hand-in-hand with the dangerous train of thought that I am watching, in my son, the future keeper for the US national team, or maybe Chelsea or Real Madrid, etc, etc.

But the satisfaction was for him, and the joy I could tell that he was feeling.  My son realized a dream yesterday, and it was everything he had ever hoped it would be, and he had fun doing it... and it showed.

It doesn't get much better than that for a Dad!