How I Got Started

This is really my first post. The last one was more of a discussion that my wife captured. This one might be a bit boring since I'm not sure if you want to hear about how I got started but too bad. I'll get to the other stuff tomorrow.

It was December 31, 2000. I was 32 years old. The family (my wife Stacey, her brother Seth, father Fred and mother Tanya) were spending the new year in Saratoga Springs over a long weekend of cross country skiing.

Turns out that night Saratoga has a First Night 5k. Stacey's family all runs. Seth was on his way to running his first marathon. Fred had run a few and Tanya, well what can I say, was still running hurdles up until a couple years ago (ACL but still runs). I digress. They all decide to sign up for the 5k including Fred and Tanya's friends.

Oh, I forgot to mention. This all occurred after 5 solid hours of cross country skiing (I was new at that at the time as well).

Now I haven't run even a mile in my life time. I hated running. All that wheezing, burning quads, sweating... So I wanted no part of that. But here I have Seth calling me a wuss, Tanya and Fred saying you'll have no problem and you can run a bit and then walk with everyone else at the back of the pack and of course my wife telling everyone 'Tom Loves to Run" (you'll learn more about in other posts). So we're standing there at sign up and they're all filling out forms and writing checks and I look around at all of these people with all different shapes and sizes and ages from 10 to 90 and I'm thinking, "hell I can do this" I'll just run until I can't and walk the rest.

I sign up. I receive my race number and some weird piece of plastic that I'm told to tie to my shoelace. I'm looking around at where I'm suppose to put this race number and pin it on (only on the top which I learn later was a mistake).

Forgot to mention, it's COLD. About 20 degrees. I have no running gear. Just my cross country pants. I don't have real running shoes. Just some trail shoes. I look around and I see shorts, high tech fabric tops, people stretching, did I mention shorts?

I line up with the 500 other "runners". I lined up with Seth and Fred (running for years) and my heart is begins to race. Now I'm nervous. What if I collapse. What if I have a heart attach. The gun goes off (OMG they really use a gun) and I practically duck thinking drive by. People go flying by me. Seth is gone. Then I start.... OK I'm not sure if I would call it running. Not quite jogging (see previous post) but more of a slog. My legs are tight and tired and hell, it's midnight.

Then people stop passing me and I'm actually running with the pack. I'm RUNNING and I don't feel bad. Adrenaline starts to pump and I see some guy who is... well... fat. OK I don't like that word. I have to say that right now and I was no string bean. (6'3' 220) but this guy had a beer belly and he passes me. Suddenly something new comes over me. It touched a competitive nerve and I speed up. I feel like I'm running 5 minute miles. The cold wind is in my face and I catch up and PASS him. Holy shit. That felt good. So I try another and another...

I'm feeling good. I think I can do this and throw away the plan that included walking. Just before mile 2 I spot the water stop but I'm feeling good so I cruise by those suckers who need water. I spot the mile 2 marker and OH SHIT. My stomach starts to ache, I'm wheezing, my legs are burning and I'm sweating profusely even in the blistering wind. I'm in trouble. But I plug on just a bit slower.

Then Stacey's mom goes cruising by. OK that hurt my ego a little but common, she's in shape and been running for years so how I can I let the bother me. I run on.

Then Stacey goes cruising by. My loving wife. What does she say? Think Nelson from The Simpsons. "Ha Ha" and goes by.

There's thousands of spectators (It is New Years Eve) and they are all cheering you on. By god I'm not letting the rest of the party run by. I suck it up and pick up the pace. I turn the corner and I can see the finish line (later I learn this is the shoot). I break into a sprint. God I must be breaking 5 minute miles I'm thinking. I cross the line and someone hands me a medal. Well I should mention they hand everyone a medal.

I AM HOOKED.

We go to the results board and I look up my time 34:58. OK so I wasn't running 6 minute miles like I thought but hey, my first 5k. I RAN 3 miles (and some). HELL not bad.

Later I learn that I burned around 300 calories (about 100/mile), that the pain I felt was something called a side stitch (my in-laws found it very funny when I told them about this odd pain and didn't know what a side stitch was and learned that Fred and Seth were running 8 minute miles or so but just cruising along taking it easy. They ask if I broke 10 minute miles. Well no but they say that's OK.

Then it came to me. My New Years Resolution was to run a sub 30 minute 5k.

Later that year I did just that.