I am punishing myself by running in a 5K. You might ask yourself why, well I am asking the same question.
School is about to start so it has been a long week, it is hot, the humidity is around 427% (just like recess in Florida), and it is early in the morning. A smarter person would still be in bed.
Of course if I was smarter; I would have gone to law school.
Like most kids, my youth revolved around sports, but I always hated anything to do with running. I wasn’t very good at track, mostly because I could easily convince myself if I didn’t stop running when I felt tired my kidneys would shut down, my eyes would bleed, and my brain would explode and seep out of my ears.
I started running a year and a half ago in the hope that it would prevent or at least postpone a mental breakdown and/or a massive heart attack.
Being a principal comes with a certain amount of job stress. I thought running might put off my untimely death by at least a few months; maybe even years (call me a dreamer).
It has also become my goal not to have a stroke at school. It is not that dying scares me; I just don’t want to give the students and teachers the satisfaction of seeing me keel over in the hallway.
I say that I run, but it is really more of a jog.
In the 5K today, I will get passed (not really passed because I will never be ahead of them) by old men who talk about their “mileage” and “workouts” and 104 pound girls who look like they need to stop running immediately and go eat a sandwich.
Running isn’t fun.
If you are thinking about starting an exercise program involving running, my advice is don’t. Running is a lot like drugs. Once you start it is hard to stop and it can’t be good for you.
People ask me if I enjoy my daily run.
What a stupid question. Of course I don’t, it hurts.
My knees are slowly wearing out and my back hurts. If I had sponsors for the 5K it would be Advil, Ben Gay, and Depends (if you run long distance you may find this funny and a little sad).
One thing that concerns me is you hear about people who run 82 miles a day, eat healthy, have low cholesterol, and then wake up dead at the age of 32 (a young age if you are as old as me… an old age if you’re in your high school).
It has never really been a goal of mine to be a really good-looking corpse.
At my funeral, I want people to say- “He looks terrible” because I am so old and shriveled up, not “Man, he looks great, I heard he ran every day.”
If I don’t survive the 5K, this could be my last blog. So, to the people who read this (yes, people actually read this blog… at least a few), I say thanks and go find something better to do with your time… just don’t take up running…
LATER ON THAT SAME DAY…
…well, I finished the 5K. I have gained the strength to type after nearly having a mini-throw up, drinking 16 gallons of water, and taking a 6 hour nap.
I saw lots of young ladies who really need to eat at least once a week and several old people who seem to enjoy running.
Around mile 2, in the heat, when I couldn’t pass what looked like 72 year-old man and I believe a pregnant woman, I vowed that if I finished I would never run again.
Unfortunately, I think running and exercise is like being in the mob… once you are in, you are in for life.
Sadly, I will wake up tomorrow (if all goes well) and I am sure my first thought will be… when can I get my run in.
My second thought… just when I thought I was out it drags me back in.
At least I will look good at my funeral.