Races Suck

I ran a race last week for the first time in like seven years. I remembered that I hated running races, but this was the Skyway 10K where you get to run on a bridge over the Tampa Bay that would be illegal to run on any other time so I thought it would be worth it since I could run some place cool. Plus, it had been seven years, maybe races weren’t as bad as I remembered.

They were not as bad as I remember; they were definitely worse.

First off, this was a race for military families. That’s not a big deal as helping people is always good, but when you put military anything into something, you know you’re going to deal with some bullshit. This was especially true when it came to the sounds of the race. The Star Spangled Banner, although an objectively terrible song, was unsurprisingly played before the race. But then along the course, there was absolutely nothing but country music played. Like, I would have been ecstatic with some Springsteen at that point, and it’s not like most people realize that Born in the USA is against military interventionism; they just sing the chorus and move on.

And yes, I brought headphones, but I’m not trying to blow out an eardrum to drown out crappy music. They should be the ones to change, because their musical tastes are terrible.

They had a staggered start for the race, and I am in the fourth group to begin. So I get to the starting line, packed in with a bunch of runners and walkers and wait for this thing to get going. The cannon blasts (because military stuff), and we’re off. Well, other people may have been off. I was just chillin. Relaxin. Hangin’ out. But then, EXCITEMENT. We start slowly walking. Neat. By the time I get up to the actual start line, we are starting to be at a brisk walk or incredibly slow jog. HOORAY!

I’m already irritated and looking for every gap I can find to get some sort of space to start moving. I dart in and out, in between, and to the outsides so I can actually run. Finally, I get a little bit of space, and I’m off. Here is my internal dialogue once I finally got going.

“I’m going too fast.”
“There is no way I can keep this pace up.”
“I really need to slow down.”
“Oh man, this is not good.”
“Again, you really need to slow down.”

But no matter how many times I told myself to slow down early on, I couldn’t do it. I hate being in crowds so much that I just needed to bust out any way I could. I’m basically like a much, much, much slower Steve Prefontaine in that all I want to do is front run so I don’t have to have the feeling of being trapped. The fun with this race was once I busted out, I just ran into more crowds, because I caught up to previous start times. I never really got any stretch of just open space and enjoyment.

Not shockingly, I was already feeling like shit by the time I hit the bridge. Going down the bridge was okay, but still, there were so many people that I could never fully open up and let go of things. I thought the view would be cool, but I barely remember it, because I was constantly surrounded by people. I don’t think I ran too poorly, but I definitely didn’t run well either. I tried checking my time after the race, but they hadn’t posted anything yet. Honestly, I don’t particularly care since I haven’t actually measured distance or time on my runs in years. I just run to run.

To top it all off, the food spread was an insult. First off, they promised water on the bus back, and mine didn’t have any. Then, when we got back, I was looking forward to a spread of donuts, popsicles, gatorades, and some delicious complimentary food. Instead, there was water, doritos, and plain bagels. Nothing like gnawing on a raw bagel after a hard race. They at least had bananas. Oh, and there was complimentary food provided by...Taco Bell! When I saw that announcement, I thought they were pranking people, but NOPE, turns out that Taco Bell was their idea of the perfect food after a hard run. I thought about having some since my body was craving calories, but I knew that my whole digestive system would make me pay for that later.

On the positives, there was at least a couple free beers in it for me, but considering I had just done a race, and there was no real food to go along with it, I drank half of one and called it a day.

I’m never running another race. Instead, for my next run, I’m going to pick a beautiful stretch along the water, take the dog out, and fully enjoy every second of it while only seeing people for a moment as we pass in opposite directions. When I get back to the car, there will be water for both of us and a couple bananas to give me the nourishment I need before heading back to my house and downing a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

If someone ever makes a race like that, sign me up.

I Accidentally Crashed an AIDS Race

I went for a run on Saturday morning. I wasn't too enthused about it, because the winter temps were in the low 60s, and now that I'm a namby pamby, this is stocking cap weather for me. I delayed as long as I could, but winter is here, and finally, around 9:00 AM, I made my way down to St. Petersburg to go run down there.

I found a nice little 2-hour parking spot and started off on my run. As I turned towards the water, I saw a police officer and a whole lot of runners up ahead. I decided to go in the opposite direction of the runners, and that way I would cross paths with them for a short while, but then I would clear them and be on my way.

After a few blocks, I saw that everyone was coming from my left, so I just headed straight and found a quieter stretch. Then, after a few more blocks, as I kept chugging forward, the course had apparently turned back as I was right in the middle of the damn run. There were no side streets to turn down, and I was basically just stuck.

I'll be honest. I kind of liked it. I was passing fools left and right and leaving them in my dust. There were people along the path cheering people on. Then, I ran into a conundrum. Up ahead, there were people on both sides of the road looking for high-fives. Clearly, they wanted to high-five the people that were supporting the AIDS run, not some random dumbass. But, it would be rude to deny somebody a high-five. I was cruising, so they may not even notice that I wasn't in the race, so I did the polite thing and high-fived the shit out of them. It was exhilarating.

I was at full swagger at this point as I was running real fast and taking advantage of every high-five imaginable. I decided to take it to the next level, and instead of giving somebody a high-five, I paid tribute to the nWo and The Elite and gave a woman the too-sweet sign right to the palm of her hand. That old lady was probably super confused, but I had a HUGE smile on my face.

Then the race turned down another street and I saw the finish line up ahead. It was at this time that I knew my time was done. I would likely be found out, and I also wasn't ready to end my run in less than two miles. I cut through the cone barrier and headed up another street towards my own finish line.

But the accidental AIDS run did have a positive impact on me. I would like to not only declare myself, but this entire blog, anti-AIDS...but very pro AIDS runs.