walkitout (walkitout) wrote,
walkitout
walkitout

5K with T.

When we go through the intersection of 27 and 2A, T. watches the sign that announces upcoming events at Nara park (the park formerly known as North Acton Recreation Area, but as of 2012 got renamed Nathaniel Allen something or other. Which took me solidly 3 years to notice). So a couple weeks ago, he wanted to do the kids' biking fundraiser (I managed to avoid that one, because I had persistent images of what might happen with T. on a bicycle in a herd of other children on bicycles. It just didn't seem like a great idea). And this week, he wanted to do the 5K. I had no issues with either the PMC/Jimmy Fund (the bike event) or Miracle Field (this one) (they wouldn't be my first choice of things to fundraise for, but that's not what this is about), and I thought that T. walking and/or running in a herd of adults and kids would probably be basically okay.

It made for a busy day, because we failed to register in advance and thus wanted to get there in plenty of time to do it day-of. We also had a playdate scheduled at the house at noon, and wanted to make sure T. got some food in between (we agreed on a stop at Subway after the 5K but before the playdate). But it all worked out fine. As expected, T. actually ran/jogged on and off at first, but after about a mile, he was just walking. I walked (except for a few times when he looked about to veer off course and one of the people helping us stay on course and T. were having a not very successful interaction -- then I was willing to jog to catch up). We did it in almost exactly the amount of time I expected (a minute or two over an hour). And we came in last.

A few observations. (1) The whole cheering you along thing just feels odd. As far as I was concerned, I was paying for something I normally do for free, so the table with the water was kind of cool. But the cheering thing was ... odd. (2) We were last. I expected we would be last. I knew for most of the second half of the race that we were last (as in, the course officials with radios confirmed that we were last). But people kept insisting there was another group behind us. Bull shit. There wasn't anyone, and pretending there was felt irritating.

T. did not care one tiny little bit where we were in the pack. I did not care one tiny little bit where we were in the pack (okay, I will confess actually liking it when the last of the stragglers passed us). I had zero issues with the fact that people pushing strollers were going past us. I was amused when we were lapped, but it didn't bother me at all. I knew how long it was going to take me to get round that course, and that's how long it took. R. kept saying we'd get through it faster, and I was like, yeah, no. I had no desire to push T. to go any faster than he was, and he was setting the pace for the last half mile. There's honestly no earthly reason for me to participate in a race, because even when I pay the money and get the tag, I'm not actually participating any more than I would be if I had happened to pick that route for a daily walk (which I would not ever do, not in a million years -- parts of it were fine, but we had to drive to get there, part of it was on a fairly busy road, and there are much more pleasant walks I can take by walking out my front door).

Having said all that, I may take a look around and see if there is a course that looks pretty and pleasant and is about 10K and is labeled "walk/run" or something similar. For whatever reason, most of the crowd at this thing was clearly running. It would have been much more fun to do something longer, and with more walkers.

T. says he'd like to try baseball at the Miracle Field. At therapeutic riding today, someone there has a son who does it. Her description of how they run the game actually sounds like it addresses all of my safety concerns with baseball/softball, and most of my boredom issues. If T. asks again, I'll try to sign him up for it.
Tags: daily activities
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