Espaldita's Triumph (Road Ends 5 Mile Fun Run)

Beep Beep!

That’s me. Beeping my own horn.

Over the weekend Espaldita and I ventured out to Pinckney, Michigan with the aims of completing a 5 mile “fun run” over hill and over dale. The Road Ends 5 mile fun run has been a staple of the season for many a year now – each year enticing hundreds to climb out of their caves, widen their nostrils and squint their over-compensating bulbous eyes in order to navigate their way along a thin path complete with stray roots and slippery rocks. (Actually – most everyone there was sportin’ some sort of bionic running gear and looked as if they were suffering from withdrawal fits from standing in place more than 5 minutes. Espaldita and I felt quite out of place waiting for the call to the line…) It is something of a tradition to declare those not competing in the run to be WIMPS, and said as much in the email.

This year mother nature had a trick up her sleeve — blanketing the runners with a steady snowfall and record low temperatures for such a late day in April, thus ensuring the absence of any form of wimpage. Watching the flakes falling, I could feel Espaldita’s confidence rising. This was precisely the type of weather we had been training in! Notice the excited exclamation points!!!

For this first attempt at organized running we were fortunate enough to have the wonderful Aunt Barb as a wing person. In fact, she was the one who cooked up this crazy notion of running with other runners in the first place. We promptly left her in the dust after the first dip down a hill – about thirty seconds into the run.

“My name is Kevin Yezbick. This is my back. Get used to it, cause when I’m running it’s all you’re going to see.”

Yes — there we were, Espaldita and I, breezing through the snowfall, right up in the front of the pack with the leaders – no worries to be had — until we wandered into…

THE FOREST OF DOOM!!!

Ok. It wasn’t really a forest of doom, per se, but there were plenty of leg grabbing roots and snow slicked rocks which leapt out as one tried to pass them over.

And then there were the hills.

Yes. Espaldita and I were cruising along with the front of the pack — until we came upon the first hill. I guess this is where the bionic suits come in really handy — because some of these people seemed to just take the elevator up. Our pace slackened and we fell back a bit — just far enough to pace ourselves next to a really attractive member of the opposite sex.

Things I Learned While Running My First 5 Mile Fun Run
1. Don’t try to keep pace with someone whom you find attractive.
There are many, many reasons to heed this first rule. You must, first of all, realize that this is your first attempt at any sort of organized running – and that this fine specimen running alongside you has likely been doing this much longer — and is much more adept. That being said — you will feel a colossal sense of shame as you are forced to realize that you have fallen a good clip behind her, and can’t convince your body to keep up. You have been schooled. Accept it, move on, before someone REALLY gets hurt.

2. Watch your Sustenance Intake before the run.
You’re supposed to eat familiar foods in the days leading up to the race — and at least three hours before the gun — preferably sooner. This rule ties in with the rule above. Fortunately – this is a rule I followed – escaping possible further embarrassment on the trail. I mean – just imagine — you’re running along next to that perfect ’10′ when all of a sudden your lower regions are doing their best metronome impersonation…Or worse — you’ve only been out on the trail for a few moments, kicked up just a few pebbles and just begun breathing at an advanced rhythm when you feel something stirring — and like a hammer on a nail – continue to feel it with each clenched step.

3. Hills Suck.
We now return to our tale…

So there we were — falling back in the pack after the first series of hills — Espaldita hanging in there like a true champ — bouncing along with me inline with about thirty or so other runners at a similar step. The path was narrow and somewhat winding and the twists and turns and spring leaves combined with the gathering snow made it somewhat difficult to see what could be just around the next bend — but I’ll give you a hint:

Hills. Lots and lots of hills.

After about the seventh hill I was pretty convinced I wasn’t going to be finishing first. (Actually, it was more like the moment I laced up, but– to return…) It wasn’t until after the eighth hill that I saw the first mile marker — and wanted to beat the living daylights out of it.

Continuing on — the pace well slackened — quite ready to break with the running for a while — I found myself alongside quite the mare. She was bigger than I, wearing a semi-bionic outfit — and seemed to be an excellent match for pace. I pulled into a slot on the trail a couple of steps behind her – and was confidently drafting – when I picked up on her breathing.

Now – you’re supposed to have rhythmic breathing — it helps with that pace thing I’ve been talking about — but this woman’s subconscious mantra had managed to manifest itself. I’ve often been running with Espaldita and to keep that perfect step going I’ve counted in fours or some such manner to take the mind off the body. This woman was in the same situation — only she had completely lost her sense of surroundings and was making her mantra audible to all around her. Her mantra?

“Al-an, Tram-mel. Al-an, Tram-mel. Al-an, Tram-mel.”

At least — that’s what it sounded like to me. I could not run next to this woman. To hear her pronouncing my favorite ballplayer’s name through heavy breathing was sure to drive me insane — so I let off and fell further back into the pack.

As I kept sinking and slowing I thought back to my previous experiences with distance running.

There was the time I wanted to “belong” as a freshman in high school – so I went out for the Cross Country team – which lasted a day. There were the baseball tryouts — which I was motivated for and found to be doable. And then there were the basketball tryouts — which tore out one’s soul. It was during one of the mile runs following wind sprints that my nose developed a whistle at precisely the same moment Crampy McCramperson took over my right side. I distinctly remember one of the older guys encouraging me, “I know it hurts, but keep going. Fight it, Fight it!” But I also distinctly remember another older guy later in the pack, who very nonchalantly passed on the right and looked me in the eye while annunciating, “Nice nose whistle.”

I had to stop running.

So – after about 2.5 miles, Espaldita and I dropped into a brisk walk for about thirty seconds. People passed – and people passed — and after about a minute, maybe less – we decided to give it another go. We made it to the water station soon after – and with a smooth transition from volunteers hand to my own — we swallowed down a cup and kept on moving. The water seemed to invigorate — and it was at this point that somebody who I never looked at, but could tell was wearing a bionic suit, pulled alongside:

“Garble garble 50 degrees garble garble garble water,” he said. Looking back – I’m not even really sure he was talking to either Espaldita or me – but I responded with:

“Yeah, (breath in) just when you get acclimated (breath out).” To this he seemed to make some sort of hesitant guttural noise before kicking up his bionic heels and leaving me in his dust. I think he may have realized I was crazy. Espaldita and I thought about it quite a bit for the next few minutes – mulling over what he could have possibly said and why we even bothered trying to respond, when Espaldita began to pout. I don’t know if it was from embarrassment or what, but Espaldita and I began to disagree at about 3.5 miles into the fun run.

At the foot of a hill the volume of the argument went up a notch and we had to step to the side of the path. Sneakers shot past, our eyes keeping to the ground, our breathing heavy, our shame for our display evident. Sometimes sharing an embarrassing moment with someone can bring them that much closer — and this was the case for Espaldita and I here. After several deep breaths, I kneaded my thumbs across her, smoothing out the pain — and we continued running…and stopping…and running…and stopping.

We came to a cross in the trail where a park ranger had parked their car. (I’ve forgotten to mention that Aunt Barb is an authority figure in the state parks.) They shouted out to me, “Are you Kevin?” to which I replied in the affirmative and asked if they wanted to take my picture — which they did — and which will be in my possession shortly. I continued on my way when perhaps a minute and a half later I heard shouts of glee and the ranger’s siren going off on the car. Aunt Barb was just behind me.

Espaldita and I had to get moving.

To make a long story even longer — we ran a good deal more before stepping into one last walk — just before the forest opened — until I spotted a goofy bearded man who resembled me – only advanced by thirty-some odd years — standing in a clearing, waving and cheering. Emerging from that FOREST OF DOOM!!! was like a rebirthing.

Espaldita and I kicked up our heels and finished at 56:01. (The results say 56:06, but that’s only because they had trouble taking off my runner’s bib at the finish line.) Not bad for a former pack a day chimney.

There are plenty of other items of interest I can’t delve into here for want of boring you to death — but I should at least point out Don, the snarky concession stand owner who allowed Barb and I to stretch out in the back of his shack – where it was nice and warm – and who upon observing the other runners stretching out outside exclaimed, “Oh God! Those crazies are trying to push the building over!”