Do you feel me now?...

This morning I was eager to run my first 5K run/walk race, not that I would be racing. I found the campus of St. Andrew's quite easily, but felt awkward the whole time. I had gotten my packet and number and went to my car. There were a lot more people than I had expected and I kept noticing their runner apparell. In my rolled-up-at-the-knee workout pants, and Pepsi sweater, I felt like I had a spotlight on me though I knew better. There were a few that looked like me, vaguely lost but dressed for a purpose. I approached two of them and asked them if the race would begin here. Politely they pointed to the bright yellow placard with the words 'Starting line' emblazoned on the front. Luckily this was not the first time I've had one of those moments, so I held up pretty well. The announcer bellowed in his bullhorn,"25 minutes." Damn! Now I had 25 minutes to ponder. It was a good thing I didn't know the course or I would have psyched myself out. I saw people bringing their dogs on the run. I am use to seeing Labs and other such larger dogs on runs, but someone brought their very rotund hound dog. He was the size of both my thighs put together. One would think that he wasn't very agile or fast but his legs had to be strong to hold him up and since he was so low to the ground, aerodynamically, he probably could take me on the home stretch.
When the race started, they called for all the runners first. I had a moment to consider whether I should just fall back into the walking group, but my ego won out and I stepped forward with the runners. A woman looking somewhat angry was walking toward me. Out of habit I turned three-quarters away from her to avoid direct acknowledgement, but she headed straight for me, staring me down. I side-stepped. She wisped past still holding her stare on me. I let her pass without a word, but an unenthusiastic smile. Two seconds later, she wisps past me again back to where she had originally come from. Immediately I wondered if this was her M.O.. Did she frequent 5K races just to pick someone out of the crowd to stare them down in hopes of intimidating them to a loss or slower time. Is there one of these at every race? I was slightly unnerved.
The race began on a slight upgrade. My ankle had a sudden twinge of pain, but I ignored it. (I hadn't told my body that I was running in the race.) I was winded at the half-mile point because to the mole hill we started on. I quickly did a function check on all extremities. My feet went numb or I tied my laces too tight. Ignored that too. I suddenly realized that everyone had passed me. No worries, I had resigned my slowness to that of an old car that needed to warm up before getting up to speed. That was until I heard a faint jingling sound behind me. Is that a dog leash I hear? My heart sank. The aerodynamically blessed hound dog was catching up to me! And so early in the race. The jingling kept teasing me, getting closer, then backing away. I thought of farting to keep him at bay, but I thought better of it since it might make he and his owner mad and both would pass me. At about the mile marker, the jingling reached me. I took a deep breath and turned to meet the best canine. To my surprise it was chocolate lab. I felt so relieved. I could deal with a lab beating me. But then I realized the owner had the leash wrapped around her waist! The dog was pulling her! Note to self: get a dog for the marathon.
Then to add insult to injury, two men who looked to be in their 60's passed me. I know what you're thinking, but they were part of the 5k walkers group. Do you feel me now?
All throughout the course, volunteers directed and cheered with their cars parked a few feet away playing music. The music up to the two mile marker was upbeat and inspiring, until Mile Marker 2. The voluteer greeted me with a smile, verbally coaxing me along when I recognized the tune in his truck. "With or without youuuu" blared from the speakers. I wondered if it was subliminal or a sign. As if God were saying "Everyone is going to finish with or without you. Which would you rather it be?" It was at that point that I learned that it was never about how fast I ran the race, how I had dressed for it, or if a dog beat me. (Well, maybe a little on the dog thing...) But what matter most was that I finished, finished what I had started.
Two and a half miles, the home stretch. The volunteer at that corner was very cheerful. I could hear him way before I got to him. I made it a point to give them a smile or headnod in thanks. Just as I approached him, he and the Policeman guarding the intersection shouted," Way to go! Five-fifteen! Way to go! Five-fifteen. How cruel. The guy at the 2 mile marker told me 22 minutes and this guy thinks he can cheer me up by telling me a false time! But wait, he doesn't have a watch. Oh! He had been calling out the number I had fastened to my chest. I never even payed attention to what number I was.
By now I have reached the home stretch. A lady that had started out ahead of me, and whom I had passed earlier in the race had now reached her second wind and began passing me. I turned and smiled, but she looked more tired than me and never acknowledged me. She had quite a cheering section that started a quarter-mile from the finish line. I kept telling myself, "just finish". Then I saw the time clock in the distance. My ego came back to life. "Don't let that woman beat you!" "Everyone is watching!" With a spurt of ego-energy, I raced past her, revoking that kind smile I had given her before and replacing with an 'eat-my-dust' sprint. I guess I let my competitive nature get the best of me, but it became clear to me what made this all worthwhile.... free cookies!