Marathon training

The 6th running of the turkeys.

When we were talking at training one day Chris asked when the next race was because we hadn't trained on Saturdays because of Steve's races. We told them Turkey Trot, but since it was on a Sunday it wouldn't affect Saturday morning. There was interest in the race, and when our whole group including Marquis said they would run the 2 mile, Steve and I stepped our plans down from the 10 mile to the 2, Sheila agreed, and there we all are.

Mark is recovering from a strained muscle in his hip from cross country, the boy can bust out 5 minute miles, but he stayed with Emily and Whitney and Chris, (Chris is his principal at school).

The last 100 yards a young man began to sprint for the finish. Mark sped up next to him. Young man sped up again, Mark matched him, and then at the end finally sprinted and left this poor kid in the dust.

Here's why I shared that story. I ran the whole race chasing my group. Other than Steve, I'm probably in the best running shape of the group. Sheila could've ran off and left me, Marquis, but they stayed with me. The youngsters got ahead, but stopped 200 yards from the finish and waited so we could finish as a group.

Whitney said at the mile turn she started struggling, she was happy to have that break. Marquis was dogging it a little bit, but he finished easily.

I chased everyone. Sprinting effort wise to keep up.

While everyone thought I was struggling because I was at the back, I really wasn't. I was running in the grass to pass people, and my knee is still much better on flat surfaces, not uneven ground. That made me nervous. I'm also still not where I was speed (if you can call my pace speed) wise before knee surgery. I expect to be better than I ever was going forward, though. I could've ran another 5 miles. With the exception of Steve and Sheila, everyone in the group was done at 2 miles.

Appearances can be deceiving. Mark probably made that kid mad. And Mark could've been top 3 in his age group.

I have to be careful not to compare my self to others, but only measure my progress. It's not measured in speed or distance. It's not measured in whether I was faster than last year. Progress? This marks the 6 year I've ran this race. 4 times 10 miles, 2 times 2 miles. It's not monumental. It only matters to me. But it's a sign of progress. It's a marker on the time line of my life when I started making my health a priority. When I found something I love to do.

My mental, emotional and physical health are all so much better. That is progress.