I stretched, I raced … I barfed
Published 8:27 pm Wednesday, November 3, 2010
I do my best to be physically active and stay in decent shape, but it’s been much more challenging since I became a dad in March.
I used to play basketball at least once a week. These days, I’m on a hoops hiatus.
However, I still go for a short run every few days. Two miles is generally my limit. Anything longer than that bores me, even when I’ve got my iPod. Plus, my dog Mylo — a loyal 25-pound exercise partner — somehow knows when we’ve reached the 2-mile barrier. He slows down nearly to a crawl, telling me not so subtly that it’s time to go home and snooze.
In June during a quick road trip to visit my family in Montana, I bumped up my jogging threshold a bit. I competed in a 5-kilometer (3.1-mile) race in tiny Conrad, Mont. The “Fun Run” was part of the 70th annual Whoop-Up Trail Days celebration.
The run was sponsored by Conrad’s hospital, which I figured was very fortunate for me: If I passed out during the race and needed medical attention, I would feel comforted knowing plenty of qualified folks were poised to help.
The race started at 8:30 a.m. Since it was my first 5K, I wasn’t sure what my time goal should be. I knew I would run MUCH slower than the impressive teenage cross country and track athletes that I write about for The Herald. (By the way: They’re the ones who inspired me to try a 5K in the first place.)
Other than a few sections of the race where the other runners and I had to go directly into a strong wind, things mostly went well. I felt good up until the final half-mile, when my stomach started aching.
I tried to ignore the disconcerting sensation. “Finish strong,” I told myself.
With the end in sight, I increased my pace and tried to catch a runner who was about a half-block ahead of me. I got within a few feet of him, but he heard my wheezing breaths and stomping shoes and he sped up. I didn’t have the energy — or willpower — to hang with him.
With no other runners nearby, I vowed to sprint the final few blocks. I finished with a good burst, relieved to be done and happy I didn’t give in and walk at any point in the race. But then the gurgling in my stomach accelerated, accompanied by a gag reflex.
“Uh-oh.”
I walked gingerly to an alley beyond the finish area. After a few unsatisfying dry heaves, I puked and immediately felt better. No more stomach ache.
My time was 23 minutes, 51 seconds — slower than what I hoped for, even though I didn’t know what to expect because it was my first 5K. In the end, I was satisfied with my performance. After all, it is my personal record. … Then again, it’s also my personal worst!
I plan to run more 5Ks, but next time I definitely won’t repeat the huge mistake I made before my race in Montana: Even if it’s free and delicious, like it was in Conrad, I WILL NOT EAT A PANCAKE AND HAM BREAKFAST AN HOUR BEFORE THE RACE!
Lesson learned.
Burp.
Mike Cane: mcane@heraldnet.com. Check out the prep sports blog Double Team at cmg-northwest2.go-vip.net/heraldnet/doubleteam and follow Cane on Twitter at MikeCaneHerald.
