You don't quit the 5k, the 5k quits you!!!

5 am wake up this morning to do of all things, run a 5k. Seemed like such a good idea the other week when I signed up. But waking up this morning, things seemed to be a bit foggy as to why I thought that I could keep up with soldiers who are in the best shape of their lives, especially since I haven't run in a few months. Might have been the late night sirens going off again keeping me up all night (so much for that quieting down for Ramadan theory). But hey, I just ran a 1/2 marathon not too long ago, I can pull it together and coast through a little 5k right?

The race was sponsored by the Navy, it's called "Run With the Chiefs", and it is exactly that. About 20 Navy Chiefs lined up in front of the pack in a 4 wide formation, lead man carrying the Navy banner. They got a 50 yard head start before the rest of the pack begins the incredibly fast act of swallowing them up. I weaseled my way into the second row at the staring line, after all, the first 400 finishers get a t shirt, and I am all about a free t shirt.

They actually announced before the race that in the case of a rocket or ground attack, the race would be canceled...um....ok, no complaints there I guess.
 
I was amazed at the turn out, nearly 3,000 runners, I would guess maybe only a hundred or so of us were civilians. The start felt great, moving right along with the pack, passed those chiefs like a freight train baby. I don't care that they were busy singing their songs, keeping their pretty little formation. I was cheetah like in my strides, women and children needed to look away for fear of my capture of the prey.........and then after only about 2 minutes in, my lungs were already burning, uh oh. The air at 3,300' above sea level as you know is thin, now throw some nice fine dust into the lungs, and you have a perfect recipe for miserable failure. I was shocked and I must say a bit concerned, if I couldn't finish this thing I could never tell anyone about it, I would have to lie to Jolie and tell her that I pulled a muscle or something just to save face, those that know her know that there is no quit in her vocabulary! She just finished a triathlon minutes after getting stung by a man of war for Pete's sake! And what about my free t shirt, top 400??? I was praying for top 2,999! Come on rocket attack!

After the initial lung drama, I pulled it together and managed to at least keep pace...for a while. Slowly and methodically I started to get passed, not one by one, more like ten by ten. The worst part was that there were entire groups of about 20 running together with all their gear on, I'm talking full uniform, boots, helmet, body armor, about a 60lb pack, and of course....machine gun and side arm....don't leave home without it! Those little @%$!&*%^)!'s flew past me, so depressing, so degrading. I made it to the turn around point better known as the "poo pond", do i need to give more details? And i must say, nothing like sucking air in as hard as you can near the poo pond. But I suppose it might have helped me after the turn around to get the heck away from there as fast as I could.

By this point I figure I was getting close to the t shirt cutoff point. But remember, I was about 20th to start just a little over 1.5 miles ago. Then the 2 mile mark happened. Perhaps a moment that will haunt me for the rest of my time here, if not my life. Like I said, my lungs were burning like never before, so I figured alright, just step to the side and walk for about 10 seconds, get your breathing right, and get back at it. Well, on about my second walking step a voice from behind me shattered every ounce of manhood that I have left in my life.....
"YOU DON'T QUIT THE 5K, THE 5K QUITS YOU!!!!!" I must have jumped 5 feet off the ground, and most likely screamed like a small child in fear at the voice that seemed to come from a very, very dark place. I was back running on the third step, and as I turned to see what this creature was that had stripped me of my God given right to walk so should I choose, I nearly took a digger by stepping off the shoulder of the road and into the moon dust. That man's face is forever etched in my memory. The veins on the forehead and neck, the bright red cheeks, holy cow that dude had some serious issues, most likely he will need to address those when he gets home. I had no other option but to keep running, so run I did, hoping that no one around me was going to remember my face and laugh as I stand in line for dinner.

The finish line was up ahead, and the last thing I wanted to do was come in 401st place. To be honest, it was more a good number to use as a goal than the need for the t shirt, no really. I had no idea at this point, I had to have fallen back too far, but with a decent sized pack right in front of me my head said sprint, my legs said sprint, my lungs said puke. I listened to my body and decided to coast it in and suffer the consequences. Better that than showing my dinner from the night before. I finished with a decent time of 26:37. Not bad under the circumstances I thought. Oh, and guess who finished about 10 seconds behind me, ya that's right, Mr. Angry don't quit the 5k crap. Stick that in your side arm buddy! And as for the t shirt........

                                                                  Ya that's right...I rock!


What a great experience it was. The sun was coming up over the desert right when we started, for once there were no armored vehicles to dodge, and perhaps the coolest part was the Apache helicopter that hovered about 100 yards off the ground above the end of the pack. They really know how to be cool here. Well except for angry boy.