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Saturday, July 24, 2004
Run Hit Flounder - part 1
A week from tomorrow I will collapse somewhere in downtown Portland in a puddle of sweat, gasping for air like an asthmatic goldfish.
Or maybe not.
It could happen in the Pearl.
OK, so here's the deal. I registered for Nike's Run Hit Wonder a few weeks back and foolishly clicked on the 10k option. The run is roughly six miles, weak in comparison to your average marathon. However, for someone who hasn't even jogged further than a block since high school PE, this is going to an intense endurance test for both soul and soles.
With a little over three weeks to train, I bought a pair of Air Alvord II running shoes on sale and running shorts from Mitchell's. If you've never been in this Lloyd Center Goodwill/swap meet, I highly recommend it.
So far, the training for this run has not gone smoothly. If I spoke with someone who does this regularly, they'd no doubt criticize my choice of running shoes (Alvord's are meant for trails, not pavement) and my decision not to shave my entire body for the run (like swimmers. They do this, right?). The websites I've read on the subject suggested I should start at a quarter mile the first week and work my way up from there. To properly work up to six miles I would have needed to start sometime around last Valentine's Day.
So why am I doing this? Because it might yield a few interesting anecdotes and the whole thing sounds so ridiculously surreal. If you haven't heard, Tone Loc and Flock of Seagulls will perform on tiny stages along the route. What sort of crowd will turn out for Sunday morning concert/fun run? Will the musicians interact with the runners? Does Flock have more than one song in their catalog or will they play "(I Ran) So Faraway" over and over again? Will Loc break out a free verse rhyme about me when I fall over 200 yards from the starting line? I have to know the answers to these questions.
To be continued...
UPDATE: The run is sold out. Me + thousands of runners + early morning exercise + Mike Score = unmitigated disaster. I guess this makes me a masochist.