10 miles today. I run along an abandoned railroad bed turned bike path - 5 miles out, 5 miles back. The path meanders near the river in town, between housing developments, past some of the local schools. It's well maintained and has markers every mile. About 3 miles out, I pass the middle school. "Interesting", I say to myself, "the parking lot is full and school hasn't started yet." (I talk to myself a lot when I run. Sometimes, I even answer myself).
The 5 mile mark approaches, and I make a loop through one of the subdivisions to make my return trip. After a few blocks, I get back on the path. "Whoa! Where did all these kids come from?" Lot's of them. Running in packs. Huffing and puffing. Heading both ways. "Ah ha! Track practice must have started at the middle school. That's why the parking lot was full. Mom and Dad waiting..." (told you I talk to myself a lot).
I head toward home. After about a hundred yards a boy of about 11 or 12 speeds by on my left (I am soon to learn his name is Sam). Humbling to be passed by a 7th grader. I've already run about 6 miles, he only 2 or 3, but still. The boy slows about 100 yards ahead of me, clearly winded. I hold my pace, and end up passing him as we climb 'the hill' that is the pedestrian bridge over the busy thoroughfare. "Vindication is mine! I know I am slow, but I am slow for a long time :-) "
After a few minutes, I slow for some water, then pick up back to my training pace. I can see a group of kids in the distance, standing around what must be the 'finish line' for practice. About a hundred yards out, I hear "Come on, Sam! You can do it!" "Go, Sam!" "You got it, Sam!"
"Who the 'bleep' is Sam?" I think. The crowd starts yelling louder. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a shadow. Low and behold, the boy from a mile back is now passing on my left. I pick up my pace. Sam does too. I respond. Sam runs faster.
"Wanna race?" I ask. No reply. Sam just runs faster. With about 75 yards to go it's an all out spring for Sam. I'm pushing the edge after 7 miles. The crowds yelling, we're panting, legs and arms pumping! 50 yards to go. Louder! Faster! Harder! 10 yards!
Sam crosses the line about a half stride ahead. The kids go bananas! "Way to go Sam!" You did it Sam". Pats and high fives all around - smiles and cheers from his teammates. "Nice race Sam!" I say as I slow back to jog out the last three miles. We both smile. I take a little water and plod on down the path.
Wonder if I let him win?
About Me
- Ben runs
- I started training to run marathons in 2008. Why? Long story, but suffice to say a friend suggested it and I was intrigued. Since then, I've logged about 3000 miles in training. Among those that train for long distances, I am considered 'slow' (I run between 10 and 11 minutes per mile). I run at the back of the pack, hence 'slow man on the totem pole.' As you might imagine, my definition of what a long run is has changed over the years (10 miles is a good run, but not necessarily long). I have a lot of time to think about a lot of different things while logging my daily miles. I hope to share some of what I ponder here. An eclectic mix of what runs through my head as I run along the road to no place in particular.
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