The Coldness of the Short Distance Runner

Last weekend, my wife and I completed a marathon event. Not an actual 26.2 mile marathon, but for us 3.1 miles counts as a marathon-type event. We were part of a group ramping up to a participate in a 10K with Team in Training, a fund raising group with the cause of finding a cure for Leukemia / Lymphoma / other blood disorders. The other members of our group are all former Olympians, members of school cross country teams, and lifelong joggers. At least that is what seems to be the case.

On an average Saturday morning over the last month, we meet with anywhere from fifteen to twenty other teammates along the Trinity trail. When we complete walking our two or three miles, most of our team is already back in their homes or eating breakfast. This is because they sprint with a speed that makes me think they are the infected from 28 Days Later. This is quite the humbling experience because our path takes us to a turnaround point and return to the start. The entire team passes us on their way to completion, usually within site of the table where we drop off our car keys when we begin.

As one of our tests, we have to take part in a 5K close to Benbrook Lake. I don’t think we foresaw what weather in early February would be like, but 28 degrees was a bit much. We had never participated in an organized run like this. There were not a lot of people there, but those that were seemed to be way too enthusiastic. While we were glad that it was socially acceptable for us to hug each other for conserving heat, there were some around us running practice 5Ks to stay warm.

As the time approached, we gathered near the starting line and a voice instructed runners to follow one of two paths, 5K to the left, half marathon to the right. There was also a warning that to the left, near the turnaround point, there was ice on the trail. There would be boy scouts warning as you approached the area. At the start, there was a quick separation between walkers and runners. There was also a quick separation between walkers and us. Before turning the first curve, we were walking dead last behind a family that we swore was just out for a daily walk and not part of the 5K at all.

We thought we had walked a decent distance before arriving at the split for the 5K and half marathon. Keeping to the left, there was a slight rise until a table manned by boy scouts passing out water. We were the last ones to the water station and finally saw Benbrook Lake. We were just at this point when the first runners were already coming back, including our coach. As we continued walking we saw more of the team, but also became aware of the sound of someone behind us. Apparently, someone that started the race late was also walking, and gaining ground quickly. We attempted to increase our pace when we got to the ice patch. Here, your options were to either walk on ice or step off the trail into a deep drop off of slush hidden by trampled down grass. We made the wrong choice. Just beyond it was our turnaround.

At this point, we were feeling ok. Ok enough that we decided to jog after we crossed the ice on the path. After all, we were halfway done, right? We jogged until we passed the walker ahead of us. We then resumed walking, then jogged again, and walked until we got back to the water station. This made sense. We weren’t last. We were close, but not last. Surely that was a testament to our walking two miles every other day. As we approached the split where we moved away from the half marathoners, we could hear the announcements from the starting / finish line. Except we weren’t being guided towards the finish line.

The walkers ahead of us were heading towards where the half marathoners had gone. The arrows for the 5K also pointed that way. It turns out that the reason they did not warn that there was ice near the halfway point was because the turnaround was at the one-third point. This had a serious effect on our mood. Instead of being almost finished and jogging a bit, we were one-half done, just about spent, freezing, with wet feet. It didn’t get any better. It turns out that the water station at the one-sixth point was the only one available. The rest of the walk was spent commenting on the fact that the woman ahead of us didn’t walk all the way to the second turnaround.

Thanks to the kids that thought they would rather see how much ice they could break by one of the pavilions, their parents that waited for them, the pregnant woman we passed by jogging, and the woman that started about ten minutes later than we did, we did not finish last. The only members of our team still around were waiting for the half marathoner still on the course. We stopped by the snack stand that was passing out cookies, pretzels, and hot chocolate to participants. Know the last thing I want after doing a 5K? Cheese nachos covered in chili. Instead, we grabbed some snickerdoodles and headed for the car.