The Seeker

A Meta-Cognitive Journal About Writing… Plus Other Stuff

Thirty 5Ks… #15 (A Christmas Miracle!)

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What kind of grinch would take time away from family and holiday celebrating to run yet another 5K?  Well, me and 110 other grinches who showed up at the Indiana School for the Deaf on Christmas Day to chug around the campus grounds.  And Santa Claus must have been around somewhere and thinking of me, because just when the girlfriend was practically rolling her eyes that I am yet again finding a way to run a race at an unexpected time, along came Robert from Naperville, Illinois, at the start line.  I commented to him about the Everton FC shirt he was wearing, and came to find out he had driven from Naperville specifically for the race and was driving back directly after the race.  Hohoho!  That’s about eight hours out of somebody’s holiday, six of which are spent driving, and makes my quest for thirty look a little less spastic by comparison since I was already visiting family in Indianapolis and wouldn’t be taking so much time out of the day.  Robert even commented that he told his wife he’d run a 5K or 10K every weekend for a year, so my present was being able to maintain some degree of normalcy in the eyes of my girlfriend since I’m “only” doing thirty 5Ks in a year.


Regardless of the degree of normalcy, it felt abnormal to run a 5K on Christmas Day, much less in the middle of the freakin’ afternoon in the thick of the celebrating.  What it meant more than anything was that I needed to lay off the coma-inducing eating, stay away from the bottle of Redbreast 12 I bought my sister’s boyfriend, and maintain some sort of pre-race empty-stomach discipline well into the afternoon.  I didn’t know how well I would be able to manage all that, so I had resigned myself to running at a slower pace and merely finishing, and then unleashing the Christmas consuming beast inside me.

That all lasted until I turned into a long straight-away as I closed out what felt like the first mile of the race.  I had noted that I was starting rather fast for someone who hadn’t raced for three weeks and who couldn’t remember the last time he even ran outdoors.  The pace was peculiar, but not so much as the feeling that it felt right and sustainable.  It came to me that I had been on vacation for 8 days and was almost as well rested as I am throughout the summer.  A barrier crumbled in my mind, and I found a long-lost cruise control switch in the rubble.

I maintained the pace throughout the shittily-marked course, and even managed to catch up to Robert after two and a half miles.  We made it through a vague turn around (nobody seemed to know where it was, exactly), and he pulled ahead on the quarter-mile stretch to the finish line.  Dude certainly looked like he had run fifty 5- or 10Ks up to this point in the year, and I was surprised to have even gotten near him.  But I felt as relentless as time, and decided I was going to go for it.  I caught him, and we sprinted against each other until I edged him by a nose at the finish line (a nose that is exactly .65 seconds long).

My time was recorded at 24:59.67, which made it my second fastest time in the last four years.  Regardless of the crappy course markings and how exact that time is, I’ll take it.  Thank you, Santa Claus!  Maybe I should run a race every Christmas.


Written by seeker70

December 27, 2016 at 7:31 am

Posted in Uncategorized

One Response

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  1. way to go, dude!!! congrats. h

    January 13, 2017 at 11:00 am

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