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Eight weeks ago, I signed up for a 5k race. Signing up for the race was suppose to motivate me to train. Well, the race is in three weeks and my first chance to really train came today. Somehow, I have convinced myself that I can run three miles without any problems. The only obstacle in my path is that I am not a runner.
It's 7 P.M.; I pull on a pair of shorts, sweats, a white turtleneck and a white sweatshirt. It's March in Chicago, it may be fifty degrees when I start but it can be thirty degrees before I finish. I stretch out. My legs are ready to go. I walk a couple of blocks to the starting point. A few days ago, I mapped a one-mile lap with my car.
Block one, not too bad. I still feel strong. Block two, my feet begin to hurt. Running shoes are not made for flat-footed people. Yes, I actually invested $9.99 in this venture, and bought running shoes. Block three, I wonder if my lungs should inflate with air sometime. I probably can be heard breathing for miles. The air goes in and right out of my lungs. My chest doesn't seem to inflate. Block four, I wonder when a runner is suppose to hit that wall where pain doesn't matter. Block four and a half, common sense takes over and I walk. For the first mile I alternate walking and running. It takes me eighteen minutes to do a mile.
During the first mile, I come to admit that I may never be a runner. Walking I can handle, and actually my walking pace isn't bad. Mile two, I walk. I have now convinced myself that I will change my entry from the 5k run to the two-mile walk. I did the same walk last year in about thirty minutes. About two blocks into this, I lose the feeling in the toes and ball of my left foot. I had this problem last year while I was recovering from DVT (Deep Venous Thrombosis - a big ugly blood clot). I know that by wiggling my toes the feeling will come back, and it does. This mile only takes me fourteen minutes. So, I walk faster than I run, that really doesn't say a lot for my running.
Miles three remember I was training for a three mile run. I continue walking. I know tell myself that I can't be a runner because I haven't mastered the techniques. Somehow, I would have to build my lung capacity. I have the same problem with swimming, my stroke is decent, and I know how to breathe; it's just after a lap I have no air left. I sadly admit that at age thirty-six, it is unlikely that I will become an Olympic athlete.
I convince myself that there is no shame in being a walker. This mile takes me twenty minutes to complete.
So, now I've decided that I will become a walker. I am going to enter walks. My first one will be April 9, The Race that's Good for Life. I participated in this walk last year. I do enjoy walking. I don't enjoy the second class treatment walkers get. I noticed in a lot of these walks, there are no prizes or times for walkers. In the case of this walk, walkers walk on the sidewalk where you have to low hanging tree branches and overgrown bushes. From what I understand, these conditions are pretty common if you sign up for a walk.
Walkers of the world unite. We need to get out there and walk. We need to enter walks and demand equality. Anyone want to join me in my walks? We could be a team, the Walking Wonders. We can keep track of mileage and support each other. If I had been running I would not have come up with all these great ideas; instead my breathing would be blocking any intelligent noises my brain may have been making.
March 20, 2000 |
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