Recalling my day at the run
Written by: Staff Writer
This is the first in a series of columns that will explore a number of running topics from multiple sources. The columns will run every Wednesday from now until the 27th annual Run Through Redlands on Sunday, April 18.
In my 24 years on this earth, I have participated in a grand total of one Run Through Redlands.
I was never a great runner.
I tried my hand at some long distance running growing up, but found that anything that was longer than 94 feet of hardwood did not mesh with my make up.
So obviously the thought of running "just a 5k" never really appealed to me.
I mean, that's 3.1 miles people!
I dreaded the weekly ritual of running/walking a single mile in P.E. How was I going to finish three of them in one helping?
Yet there I was, all of 10 years old, foregoing my usual Sunday sleep in to join the jogging masses.
My mother's memory may be a little foggy when it comes to this particular event, but I remember it vividly.
Dressed in my blue Mariposa Elementary School shirt, proud to be one of Mrs. Tolar's runners, I was eager to get going.
Having never actually run three miles at one time, I have to believe that my thinking was I would use a mixture of adrenaline and fear of not finishing to push my way through those five kilometers.
Twelve minutes and a little less than a mile-and-a-half into it, I realized that my plan might have a few holes in it.
Glistening with perspiration and sporting every runner's favorite side-splitting pain, I was forced to walk the remainder of the way.
But, just like all the great ones, as I rounded Eureka Street and caught sight of the finish line, I mustered up the strength for one last half-block sprint.
For all anybody else knew, I was running that fast the whole way.
I don't remember my final time, or if they were even still keeping time by the time I finished, but I do remember running.
I may have only participated in one Run Through Redlands, but I will always remember it.