[This is my column in today’s issue of The Commercial Review.]
Exactly one month ago, managing editor Ray Cooney broke the news of our decision as a newsroom to compete in Fort Recovery’s Mad Run in May.
Participants will be Ray, county reporter Kelly Lynch, city reporter Samm Quinn and myself.
The Mad Run, a 5K run filled with obstacles, may come as a challenge to most people, which is why we — not exactly the most athletic people in Jay County — decided to take on the race as a team.
No one will be left behind. We will push, pull or drag one another through the course, facing each obstacle as a group rather than meeting up at the end. We will start together, and we will finish together.
But after much deliberating, I’m having second thoughts on our Mud Run alliance.
And here’s why.
When we chose to participate, the excitement level was extremely high. At the time, Kelly had recently finished her first race in Indianapolis and was looking forward to doing another.
I saw it as a chance to do something similar to the nationwide series, the Warrior Dash,which I attempted to do the previous two years but had scheduling conflicts.
We were all going to train together well in advance of the race to ensure we are prepared for the daunting task.
As Ray had mentioned, training was supposed to start Oct. 1. Here we are, it’s almost Christmas, and I’m the only one that has held up my end of the deal. I’ve been playing basketball three days a week, being active and trying to get in shape (round is a shape, right?) for the Mad Run. And as far as I know, the other three Amigos have been, well, let’s just say lazy.
One could argue I have a slightly busier schedule than the others, yet I’ve still found the time to get out and break a sweat.
So it begs the question, what gives?
While the race is now five months away, time is ticking for them to pull themselves off the couch, away from Netflix and Law and Order: SVU, and start hitting the pavement (or hardwood) like I have.
But there’s another reason too that I feel once the gun sounds for the race to begin I will free myself from the verbal treaty we agreed upon.
When I run a 5K, or any distance that isn’t from one base to the next, I beat to my own drum.
I’m not exactly the fastest distance runner. In fact, I have a loose interpretation of what exactly “running” means in the first place. What I may consider running, others may consider jogging. But to me, if I’m not walking, I’m running.
In each of the three 5Ks I’ve completed, I have used music to motivate me to keep going.
The headphones put me off in my own world so I can focus on the race ahead and take it one step, or obstacle, at a time.
Once I get in a groove I can’t let anyone get in my way of the finish line.
So when the four of us tackle the Mad Run in May, once I get going, if any of the other three are struggling getting through the swamp, climbing the wall or getting stuck in tires, the chances of me waiting or helping them are slim.
After all, I’ve already started preparing for the race, so I fully expect to be ahead of The CR pack.