Do you know anyone that really likes to run? I mean, the type of runner that is out there every day no matter what, even in the middle of winter. The type who dreams of running a marathon (or already has) and whose favorite athlete is from Kenya. Well, I'm definitely NOT like that. I run exactly one race per year, and can't honestly say that I enjoy either my rather minimal training or running the race. In fact, it's more like torture than any sort of pleasure. But every year, I get the call to run as part of a relay at the Mystic Places Marathon and I gladly agree to give it a go. Then I go to the closet to find my hibernating sneakers... they literally spend 11 months a year idle. And they're so old I don't even remember when I bought them. But due to their relatively low mileage they're still in good shape. I figure I'll need to buy another pair around 2011, and even that will probably be due to material decay and not wear.
This year, my poorer cardiovascular starting point combined with a week of rain to keep my pace slower than I would have liked. I was once a decent cross country and track runner, but that was many eons and pounds ago. However, my team, the dubiously name Foxwoods Flashers, won our relay group handily. Of course, that is because we entered the Mixed Clydesdales division and the only other team entered was our sister team. And don't ask me what Mixed Clydesdales is supposed to mean - I'm just glad the Budweiser horses were too busy to compete. And my sneakers are glad to get back to sleeping in the closet.