SEGA 5K (a.k.a. I'm a Cyclist, Not a Runner)

Running has never been as enjoyable or come as easily to me as cycling.  I ran cross country and track (1-mile and 2-mile events) in high school, intuitively knowing even then that I'm better at endurance sports than skill sports.  Back then I didn't know anyone who was into cycling for fitness or competition, and so running it was.

In recent years I have run only enough to manage a couple of 5Ks in the fall, the Southeastern Greyhound Adoption (SEGA) 5K in October and the Deer Dash, held in my hometown in November.  Typically, I start training in August, running once a week through the Deer Dash.  Then, with relief I give up running again until the next year.

Because of PBP, I didn't start my running training until September this year.  Maybe I needed that extra month of training in August.  Maybe my focus on endurance cycling for PBP has made it harder to reactivate my running muscles.  Maybe I'm just getting older.  Maybe all three.  Whatever the reason, I wasn't at my usual level of running fitness going into the SEGA 5K yesterday.

Even so, it was worth it.  One of my great loves besides cycling is my greyhounds.  This is why I run.  Or attempt to run.

Fleetwood, me, and Allie

The SEGA 5K is the biggest fundraiser of the year for our group's greyhound adoption program.  It's such a fun event.  A lot of greyhound club members bring their hounds to the race to cheer on the humans.  They greyhounds don't run; after all, they are retired.  Each human runner is paired with one of the greyhounds at the race, making them "running mates."  This is also a reference to part of the greyhound training process at the racetrack.  When a young greyhound is beginning its training, it is paired with an older greyhound who helps teach the youngster the ropes.  The greyhound running mates at the SEGA 5K is one of the most popular features of the race.

I always take my greyhounds to be running mates.  A volunteer holds them for me while I run.  At least, that's the usual procedure.  It didn't happen that way yesterday.  My buttocks ligament had already been sore from getting back into running the last few weeks.  Before the 5K started, I got tangled up in Allie and Fleetwood's leashes and really pulled it.  So, I made a last-minute decision to walk the 5K and take Allie and Fleetwood with me.  We enjoyed the beautiful morning.

Fleetwood pulled hard on his leash to start.  He wanted to run!  Especially when a wiener dog passed him.  I told him we both had to let our ego go because we were just walking this one.  Even so, I think Fleetwood got a complex from being beat by the wiener dog.

After about a mile, Allie and Fleetwood started slowing down.  I stopped so each could get a cup of water at the halfway turnaround point.  We kept going.  I was having to pull on their leashes a bit.  They were tired, but the exercise was probably good for them.  I simply slowed my pace to accommodate them.

I hope I never finish a 5K that slowly again, but I still had a lot of fun.  Besides, the whole point was to support the greyhounds.  From that standpoint, it was a smashing success!

When I got home, I decided to go for a bicycle ride.  I definitely made the right call in not running after I pulled my buttocks ligament, but I still wanted a decent workout for the day.  (Walking 5K didn't even get my heart rate up.)  I rode some dirt roads.  I could feel a little tightness to start, but I think the cycling actually helped.

While I was riding, I remembered that someone at the 5K recommended taking aspirin or Tylenol.  I found some aspirin when I got home.  I don't take medicines unless I absolutely have to - to the point that I forget that sometimes a simple painkiller is appropriate and effective.  A short time later, probably thanks to both the ride and the aspirin, I felt pretty much back to normal.  I'll still give it a few days before I run again, though.  Gotta get ready for the Deer Dash now!

By the way, unlike in cycling, I don't think a picture has ever been taken of me smiling while running.

Definitive proof that running is barbaric.