Sweet Words...So I Thought

"I'll run you in."

A sweeter chorus of words had never before been spoken. My sorry frame was given hope and encouragement. With those words, I knew I could continue. I knew I could finish.

Another race. What was I thinking anyway? I signed up months ago and pooped out on my training. Decided it would be okay to forego this one.

Unlike me, Jared diligently followed his training schedule. He was strong and ready to go.

One month before the race, I buckled down and started running. For a different race. One that would give me two months of good training. But with just three weeks of training plus a taper week under my belt, I decided to give this race (Bryce Canyon) a shot. I ran the first ten feeling pretty darn good. But uphill, hot, and with an undertrained body, the last three miles were pretty brutal. When I turned the corner that left me just a couple blocks from the finish line, I was actually contemplating taking a little rest...until I saw Jared jog towards me and utter those sweet words, "I'll run you in." I almost cried because I felt a pump of courage and I knew that I could keep running with him next to me.

But just as quickly as I gained courage and optimism, the situation turned sour. Jared had been finished with his race for over thirty minutes and had decided to sit down and wait for me to round that corner. When he popped up to run with me, his muscles were tight and instead of more words of encouragement from him, all I heard was "Ouch. Oooohh. That hurts! I can't run (hobble, hobble, hobble)." I used some of my race energy to turn and give him that "Seriously???" look, but he kept at it.

Apparently, even though he had already finished and clocked his time, this second finish seemed to be more about him than about the poor struggling soul (me) who just wanted to finish this race once. "My feet! My legs! Ooowww!" I got so irritated that with one block to go, I got a major kick and left him in my dust. On my way to the finish line I heard him saying, "I can't keep up! I can't do it!" Silly guy. He'd already done it...and he'd done it good.

And so, for the first time in our lives, we actually ran together. It's just not practical to have he who is amazingly awesome and places in the 20-25th percentile of his age group run with me who places in the 60-70th percentile of my age group. But this one time, we had our few seconds of togetherness and I think it was enough.

No surprise that when we ran our race the following month, no one was waiting for me when I rounded that corner to run me in. But there were cheers and smiles and hugs when it was all over. It was better for both of us that way. It was good stuff.

And now....I'm not a runner anymore.

And I'll have to post pictures later because they are on other people's cameras.