I was bitten by the 5k run/walk bug the first year I lived here when I found out about the BLACK CAT CHASE. I didn't do it my first year, but I was bound and determined to do it my second year living here. I intended to train for it, I really did. But alas, life and laziness got in the way, and I didn't.
It didn't end well. In fact, it ended in a rather swollen knee and a subsequent spring of physical therapy. My insurance company HATED me that year.
The following year, I did the Black Cat Chase again, and my knee was much healthier. I beat my original walk time by a few minutes, and I had a lot of fun. So, why not go from a 5k to a Half Marathon? I signed my naive self up for the Kentucky Derby Half Marathon ... 13.1 miles of walking through places in Louisville that most people zip through via their cars. I was confident -- for the most part -- that I would make it ... hopefully. And I really didn't get too whiny until mile 9 ... when we entered Churchill Downs ... when I heard the woman behind me actually crying because she couldn't make it any further. I wanted to cry, but I certainly wasn't going to do it in public. NO WAY! NO HOW!
So I pounded the pavement all the way to the finish line and slept the rest of the day away!
I didn't do any more races after that one ... until this year, when once again, I felt the calling to walk in a 5k. I've trained ... sorta, but here's the thing. I have this problem with my foot. I've ignored it for a while, but now, with just days away from the run/walk, there is an odd pain that hasn't been there before.
My mother taught me not to waste good money, and I've paid 10 whole buckaroos to do this thing, and so, due to my sheer lunacy and stubbornness, I am going to walk the three miles on Friday. The end result, will more than likely, be a visit to my doctor in the future to figure out what is wrong with my foot.
Might I just say that I get really irritated with my body. When I get the least little bit active ... when I get the least little bit "in better shape," it decides to fall apart on me, little bits at a time. It's annoying, but I will try to push and power through.
I have 60+ more pounds to go before I am at my goal weight. A long, long journey ahead, paved with BenGay and copious amounts of ibuprofen, I am sure.