Yesterday, I ran the San Francisco Giants 5K Race. My wife has run this race for a few years now, as have many of my friends. Proceeds from this race go to Project Open Hand, which provides meals to the sick and elderly all around the SF Bay Area. I also got all this swag (which is why many people run these races?).
Since my current goal is to live a healthy life for the next 40 years, some strenuous exercise seems to help. So, I signed up for this race a month ago without telling my wife. When I got around to informing her that I was running, she was happily surprised (mostly as I’ve rebuffed her “generous encouragement” over the last few years).
I didn’t do any specific training for this race. I run a bit, walk a lot more, and have been doing a bunch of other exercise. But I had no plan for this race except not to die. (If I did collapse right at the finish line, I probably would have made the news.)
In actuality, the race went better than expected. I didn’t run exceptionally fast (finishing the course in 49:03). But I didn’t get hurt, didn’t cramp up, and didn’t feel too bad afterwards. After the race, we crushed a huge salad and half a large pizza at the joint across from AT&T Park. Today, I’ve cleaned the house and finished the laundry without any soreness in my legs.
TBH, the only thing that I could have used for my race was a smartphone. Why? Because I would have been live-blogging the race with a bunch of random thoughts, like:
- (While passing the Ferry Building): Would it be bad form to pull over and two-fist an ice cream cone from Humphry Slocombe and a meat cone from Boccolone while I run? (Yes, you can get a cone of meat at the Ferry Building!)
- (When passing a pedicab along the Embarcadero): How many runners get tired and just take a pedicab back to the park?
- (After seeing this runner): I think we should make our own costumes for next year’s race! But only if it’s not too hot outside. This guy must be sweating it out now!
I’m sure I had other interesting thoughts during the run, but they were very fleeting since I was trying to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.
In the end, my wife & I crossed the finish line together, holding hands high in victory, like we were the winners of the 74th Hunger Games (but without all the messiness of eliminating all the other competitors). I did have my wife take this last pic of me on the field. I think it was appropriate. And to think, I only have to do this for another 4 decades!