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Time Flies When You're Having A Run

By Tom Huff

Okay, so during training sessions the miles sometimes seem to crawl by, as if some unseen force has cruelly stretched your favorite route to twice its usual length. And the weeks leading up to a big event can leave you wondering if all of your watches and clocks are going in slow motion. But what is it about the races themselves that leaves me feeling as though the 'Fast Forward' button has been pushed on my remote control and I cannot find the 'Rewind' button no matter how hard I look.

Now don't get me wrong. I am not talking about breaking any speed records here. My race statistics sport the following PR's:

5K – 22:57 (Gotta love those flat courses)
5M – 40:00
10K – 48:46 (Only run one so far)
Half Marathon – 2:00:21 (Again, only one at this distance)

So you can see I am in no danger of displacing anyone from the awards ceremony—the only award I have received was 2nd place in my own age group for a local 5K (there were only three runners in my age group, by the way).

What I am talking about is the experience of the competition. On April 2nd I competed for the first time in the Capital City Half-Marathon having run the Commit To Be Fit 5K last year as my very first official race. Now I figured that at four times the length my experience should contain four times the memories of that initial event. But, I honestly cannot remember all that much about the course. I can definitely remember the snow—and if I ever forget the extreme weather we all faced that day I can turn to the race day photos containing a large snowflake that completely blocked my face in the only primary shot taken of me that day. And I have 'snapshot' memories of various locations on the course—running past the Book Loft and debating about how browsing the aisles would be more sane than running by the store—turning on to High Street and facing a four mile stretch of running into the wind—that sneaky 'little' hill in mile 10 that you couldn't really see but definitely felt—and of course turning back on to Neil Avenue and 'sprinting' to the finish line. So after nearly two weeks of examining every detail—or, the details I can still remember—the only answer I can come up with to my query is 'People, People, People, People'.

First of all, there are the people who organized the event. The list of people at John Bingham Racing directly involved with putting together this event is extensive. So excuse me for stating the obvious but without their hard work and passion for this sport we all could have been at home snuggled under a nice warm blanket that morning. These people could have complained about the lousy weather and no one would have blamed them. Instead they laughed at it, poked fun at it, and generally took our minds off of how miserable it really was. And just when it looked like trying to herd all of the runners to the starting line would take two hours itself the staff reacted quickly to make sure that those of us who were crazy enough to actually run in that weather made it to the corrals with plenty of time to spare.

Then there are the volunteers and safety workers. If you thought it was tough running in the wind and snow think of the people who had to stand in it while we made our way through the streets of Columbus. Every street corner had a volunteer or police officer ready to keep the runners safe from vehicular traffic. Every water stop had plenty of volunteers handing out sports drink or water and then cleaning up the mess we left behind. And honestly, how much fun could it have been to stand around in a snow storm waiting to clip frozen timing chips from soggy running shoes? Yet, without every one of these individuals the day would have been a nightmare.

And there were runners in all shapes and sizes. Some runners were dressed as if they were heading to the beach and there were those of us who wore enough layers to start our own clothing store. From the winners blazing along at under 5:30 per mile clips to the 'penguins' we all came out to conquer the distance and ended up beating Mother Nature along the way.

Finally, there is my family. As if she needed any more evidence, my wife, Cindy, has now officially certified that I am crazy. Yet, she came out to watch me start and waited for me to finish two hours later (she was smart enough to stay inside in between). And my youngest son Joshua wanted to be a part of the event but hates to run so he volunteered to help. In case you missed it he was the frozen human exhibit manning the bagel table at the finish line. And I cannot forget my oldest son, Jonathan, whom I partially blame for this insanity that has afflicted me. You see it was Jonathan who decided to run track and cross country in high school many years ago to keep in shape for soccer. Well, one thing led to another and a year and a half ago he 'challenged' me to run a marathon. Last year we ran several 5K's together—well we started at the same time but our finishes were rarely close—and he was there every step of the way for this one.

So, the best explanation I have for how this two hour battle went by in the blink of an eye is the people that made it possible. Without them I would not have been able to concentrate on what I was doing—would not have been able to focus so clearly on my pace and stride—would not have been able to take in fluids when I needed them. I guess I never realized how many people it takes to allow me to be selfish once in awhile.

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