This
particular run/race/schlep (the latter being more my form) was in that quaint,
large small town in west-central Maryland, Frederick – home of
an Orioles farm team (more farm than team), the Keys, who are
named after erstwhile resident Francis Scott Key. Town's just down the road
from Camp David, so some Fridays when I've been in Frederick at
just the right (or wrong) time, I've seen Marine One (and a
decoy) flying over, northbound.
Most interestingly,
anyway, the evening run was not through the cobblestoned downtown (an awesome
little town to stroll through: antiques, restaurants, quaint shops, etc.),
but was essentially two laps through a cemetery (where
Francis Scott Key is buried, by the way)… with a finish around the Keys outfield.
I'd been
trying for weeks to get the rest of the family to join me, starting with older
brother Sarge, who ran a 15K right after my last 5K a couple weeks ago. But he'd
already registered for an event the next day (tomorrow) and won't ordinarily
run on back-to-back days. Younger brother Doc had plans with his daughter;
first sister Mew had plans; her athletic son Siege is having knee trouble –
though her husband Arn might be able (he didn't). And second sister Alicia is
about three months pregnant… and lives in Boston.
So I turned
to family friend and actual Frederick resident, Chuckles. She's legally blind,
and writes scripts for various TV shows – from "The Simpsons" to "King
of the Hill", "Star Trek", "House", and so on. I hope
to begin posting some of her scripts here or on a sister blog I'll set up
specifically for her work (which is copyrighted, thank you).
Chuckles'
mother and sister are both buried in that cemetery (section QQ), so that may
have been her inducement – yes, she joined me for the race/trudge. (My family
adopted her – she was once our neighbor – after the sudden passing of her
sister, and then her mother, just a few years ago.) She's been ill, having lost
(for reasons still unknown, despite some of the best minds at Johns Hopkins
throwing their hands up in the air over it) in excess of ninety pounds over the
last few years. I think they passed over to me, in fact.
Her finish
time was just over forty-nine minutes… which basically means that I can barely
run faster than a seriously ill, blind woman! What's worse, I got passed once
by a really cute little Asian-American girl, all five years of her (and her
mom). I passed her again, but a little later she passed me once more, and I
never saw her again… so I can't even run faster than a five-year-old girl! I'm
laughing about it, though. I finished, all right?
Credit,
though, goes to brother Sarge (even though he bailed on me!) for getting me
started on these things, and another "Sarge" of sorts, neighbor Rosie, whom
(along with her well-toned daughter) Chuckles and I almost literally bumped
into, milling around and stretching before the start of the race – and an extra
brownie point to her for helping me shave off that almost-two minutes. Her
daughter is a marathon-runner (and vanished seconds after the starting-gun
missed me). Rose is a compact, fifty(?)-something grandmother who serves as
drill instructor for a boot-camp style exercise regimen. And like her daughter,
she too runs marathons, half-marathons, and so on, with impressive frequency.
I soon had
Chuckles somewhere behind me (and I apologize to her for the view); Rose,
though, downshifted and stuck by me the whole way through. She pointed out
better methods of breathing, and made other pacing suggestions, all of which I
appreciated, since that cemetery had a number of slopes and long hills that my
shins and hips made painful note of. Her encouragement and presence by me had
me running (well, trotting) for longer spans than I have before, even though
the slopes had me walking (though fast) more than I wanted. And at one point
Sergeant Rose literally pulled my leg (and ankle) to get some of the
shin-splint pain down to a more tolerable level.
This event,
by the way, was for many (maybe most?) of the participants, including Rose Jr.,
an easy warmup for tomorrow's marathon, also in
Frederick, Maryland. Pass! But for them it was literally a walk – well,
pleasant run – in the park.
PS: I'll
link up some photos once they're online.
PPS: Thanks
again, Sergeant Rose!
PPPS: And
thanks for putting up with the browbeating, Chuckles – see, even sick and
handicapped, you can still almost run faster than a man!
No comments:
Post a Comment