On the run

When I was 12 my dad asked me if I wanted to run in the Turkey Trot, a 5K and 10K race on Thanksgiving to benefit a charity or foundation. I thought, sure, I can run. I'll do the 5K. My dad at the time was running 5-10 miles per day and was doing the 10K race. I was playing soccer, and, as a half-back ran the field more than anyone other than the other 2 half-backs.

The day arrived, with little training on my part, the gun fired, and I took off. Though I was dwarfed by all the adults I was running with, the exhilaration of being part of that mob was, well, exhilarating. I finished the race in just over 30 minutes, only having to walk once.

I think I did two more races after that one before my decline into smoking and being cool began.

But now I rise up, having stopped smoking and being cool long ago, and I will again conquer a 5K-er.

This week I took my odd place as the school track coach, running alongside enthusiastic teenagers and giggling primary kids. The air here is thicker than I was used to in Denver in those long ago days, but not because of humidity or anything natural like that. No, here there is smog. A lot of smog. And I did alright. I ran as much as most of the kids, and more than others. I wasn't winded enough that I couldn't still holler across the field at them to speed up. And I was smiling when I stopped.

Next week, my kids have a 3K to test their abilities. 10 days later, teacher's turn.

I promise pictures.