I am not a runner. With that being said, I’m about to embark on a journey that’s leaving most of my friends and family wondering about my sanity. In just five days, I’m running the Indianapolis 500 Festival Mini-Marathon.
Go ahead and giggle. Roll your eyes if you must. Goodness knows I’m laughing on the inside at the thought of running 13.1 miles and living to tell the tale. I know there are some who might not think running a half marathon is any sort of challenge. But, I hark back to my previous statement: I am not a runner.
So, why on Earth did I sign up in the first place? It’s a legitimate question and one to which I don’t really have a good answer. Initially, I started running as a weight-loss method, but I quickly realized those stubborn pounds don’t melt away just because I’m pounding the pavement. Then, it became more of a head game. Could I actually run that distance? Would I be able to finish? Truth be told, I’m starting to wish I checked Angie’s List for a sports psychologist to help with this ridiculous anxiety.
And then there’s the bus. For those of you not familiar with this particular race, there is a bus following the last participants that will scoop you up if you’re unable to maintain a certain pace. Think of it as the caboose on the end of a 35,000-person train running through the city’s streets. I have nightmares about that bus. I imagine myself splayed across its front bumper, refusing to admit defeat by actually getting on. This thought alone is enough to make me lace up my shoes for a quick practice run around the neighborhood.
All that being said, I know I will run the gamut of emotions come race day. I am most looking forward to the sense of accomplishment that will (hopefully) be stronger than the feeling of exhaustion at the end. So, while the majority of you are tucked soundly in your beds this Saturday morning, I’ll be out running – trying to stay in front of the bus – and proving to myself that I can finish the race. And as a little reward for my aching muscles, I’m already looking up massage therapists on the List.
You’re going to be fine. I’ve done it twice (not running, but walking) and it goes by in a flash. Plus, it’s odd to say, but the 13.1 miles is really fun. Maybe I’ll see you there among the other 34,998 people.
I lived in fear of the bus before I walked in the Mini a few years ago. But don’t worry — I don’t believe it really exists. I never saw it, and I was walking pretty darn slow. Good luck!
I saw a documentary about that bus and similar vehicles… I think it was called Maximum Overdrive, directed by some guy named Stephen King. He was fortunate enough to capture these vehicles as they are in nature; check out this shot of one of them:
Tristan, that’s not funny! But thank you Sue and Mandy for your support. It’s very much appreciated.
Staci, if my dad can run the Mini at a pace about equal to that of a speedwalker, I’m sure you’ll do just fine