British 10K: London Run 2012

Waiting, waiting, waiting. It was impossible for me to fathom the sheer size of a 17000+ person crowd until I was in the. Idst of all of them. Waiting for my turn to begin the race. Listening to the over-zealous commentator on the microphone high above us make comments that kept us laughing. "Reach over to your neighbour. Give them a hug. Touch their bum. It's alright that's allowed today.". I looked around. Many laughed but no one dared. God save the Queen. the extended LP version, which seemed like all the verses. I could appreciate it any other time than in the freezing rain waiting for a race to start so I could move myself into warmth again. Being surrounded by people was not so bad after all. Reduced the wind. Elites lined up, separated from the other runners by a line of yellow-shirted officials holding hands. The bell sounded and they were never seen again. I wondered how many 10K's they ran before this one, how many years spent perfecting their craft so that they could make a great feat of endurance seem like an everyday occurrence. Why were the fastest runners given a head start? This baffled me. I guess they needed their space to exert their elite pace on each other in a vie for the best finishing time.

I cursed my tardiness for the umpteenth time. Setting the alarm for 6 and waking up at 7:20 was no help at all to the morale building that usually takes place before races. I listened to my "Psych Up!" playlist on the tube, and momentarily glanced at the other runners who got on at various stops. Checks, pluses and race numbers were emblazoned over everyone's racing t-shirt. Community building or advertising mastery? I wasn't sure.

There was a couple holding hands in front of me. They had been the entirety of the wait up until the starting line and even beyond that. They were some ways ahead of me, and I could just barely see that they had stickers on their back. As I got closer and closer, jostling for a better starting position than the one I currently had, I saw the whole sticker. One of the runners was blind, courage beyond courage. There he stood, with full working capacity in every facet but eyesight, yet he was not without vision. He did not let his drawback hold him back, but knew that to complete his goal he would need help. I marveled at this man from a distance. I wondered if he was always blind, or developed it as he came on in years.

I found two pounds in the street. They weren't face-up pennies, so I left them there. As far as I could see no one would pick them up either. I guess the connotation of putting on two pounds just before a race wasn't a favourable one at all. I had no pockets.

Weaving, stopping, starting. I learned a new way of passing people without touching them or breaking stride. I wonder if it will work for smaller crowds. I will test it. I must have stopped maybe four or five times during the race, as the traffic was simply to thick to weave through - the tunnels. It appeared that people wanted to spend more time in the tunnels, as it was out of the rain. Little do they know! Rain runs are the best because it means that you rarely have to stop for water. Catch some rain drops and off you go. The harder it falls, the better your chances.

Running alongside the Thames and I glanced up at Big Ben and couldn't help but smile. I was running through the streets of London. An iconic town in an iconic year, as I looked down in the road before me at the numerous Olympic Lane markers. This race wasn't the real event. It was a fast-paced, sightseeing festival in which you just happened to be running. But then - for the man who could not see, what was his reason? Did he just want to be a part of an event like everyone else, something to which he was absolutely entitled? Maybe it was an acceptance of himself, an affirmation of what he could do if he just put one foot in front in a regularly repeating pattern.

Maybe it was meant for me to have been at that place and at that time and with that pace to the finish line, and I might have been blind to it. There was a give and take to arriving at the it e I did; any earlier and I probably would have gotten cold, particularly characteristic of the perpetually overcast summer in London at the present time. Any later and I would have been in the absolute back and would have been bottlenecked by the Ambulance that joined the course for a quarter of a mile before tending to the injured. I did resolve to be closer to the start for future races, just to quell my anxiety at giving thousands of people an 11 minute head start.

Panegyric to Exercise

Pumping iron in the gym, like a monster.
Boil an egg, put some bread in the toaster.
Training right, eating well for a big kick,
So come race time I'll be "Fly Like A G6".

Give me my water wet,
Give me clean towels dry.
My workout today will definitely make quitters cry.
You want to workout with me?
Perseverance must come naturally
Because I don't stop once I pick the weights up and do my reps you see.

Oh yes!  Girl, I'm type extreme, power cleaning in the gym.
I have to keep my form in check to keep chance of injury slim.
Once I gain momentum I don't want to be sidelined.
Now I've the chance to put in the work; the present is my time.
Running Van Cortlandt's hills, inclines without mercy.
They try their hardest to grind away resolve but the trick is consistency.
You just have to pump arms and legs,
And keep that head down,
And once you burst into the clearing
And race the straightaway,
You'll be a challenger for that crown.

Tempo run in Central Park, training to race
Solidifying my technique known to me as pace and chase.
Gym now! Environed jocks are grunting like they're truly bulked.
Bench press time!  And the mix on my media player makes me step my workout up.

I can't forget to stretch!
Have to be limber, balanced and loose.
And knowing when to take rest days
Is the best thing I can do.
My goal is longevity not a merely fleeting journey.
So the number one goal of any workout is to take care of... well, me.

Endorphins abound! Pleasant rush that can only be found
In a layer of sweat that you'll surely get
When you put on some sneakers and try not to fret.
Your body will thank you...  Hey, why aren't you outside yet?