I walked today at lunchtime. I was stressed to the max and it was either take a long walk or say something stupid and get fired. I chose the walk.Dang I wish I had my camera with me. (Photo from Wikipedia.) College Hill was painted in brilliant shades of red. There isn't much prettier in Easton than Victorian mansions cloaked in bright red leaves.
Since the D&L marathon two weeks ago I've been thinking a lot about racing and what role it will play in my life moving forward. It started at the pre-race dinner. Person after person stood up and said how wonderful racing was, and how they break down in tears from joy when they finish. It was like a Hallmark card for walkers. I have never shed a tear or jumped for joy. Sure I was happy it was over. I was happy I finished. But that's it.
The day of the race I counted down the miles like I always do—7-6-5-4-3-2-1-thank goodness I'm done. They hand you a medal which is lovely for about 2 minutes. Then my mind switches gears to what shall I do with this? And I really don't need another t-shirt. Three-quarters of them go to Pat or Goodwill.
But I was signed up for another the next week. It actually would have qualified me for a group called Half Maniacs. After becoming a member the least you could do was one Half a month to keep up your membership. The highest —52 in one year. Yep. One a week. Clearly those people have no life outside of races. And an endless supply of money. Half marathons are not cheap. Plus you need to add in travel, hotels, tolls, eating out, ect.
My fitness friend Nora is a member. She rarely does a 5K or a 10K anymore. She loves the half, and I anticipate that she'll move towards full marathons soon. She check race results. She knows the race staffs. She does two every month. I think I'd rather shoot myself.
Last week I was bored to tears at the Deja Vu. Solitude was not one of my life skills. There was no joy at the finish. Just relief. The shirt went into the hand-me-down box.
The 10K on Sunday was great. But was it because it was half the length or was it because I was walking over a beautiful body of water? Again, no joy at the finish, just relief. And wanted to be sure I caught the right bus back.
Saturday is a 5K. Looks like I'll be going it alone. Again. Bonnie just had surgery, and Megan can't make it. It's at NCC and I designed the tee shirts. I got to go. The money benefits my kids. But I'm not sure I want to.
Bottom line: With the exception of NCC, races are expensive and getting more expensive. I have to buy health insurance next year so there goes my disposable income. I need to get really picky.
I'm not sure if I've signed up for anything next year. I have to look. (Oh wait—The Yuengling Lager Jogger with Angel and Eryn, and the Hangover 5K on New Years Day....bet there's more.) I need to evaluate how much racing I will actually do. Will 2015 be more Volkssport? More state parks? More fitness challenges. Not sure.
In the meantime, I found a plastic box for the medals. Not quite ready to recycle them to Medals4Mettle. Maybe when the box is full.






