Two days ago (Thanksgiving morning), I did my sixth footrace of the fall: the Fort Worth Turkey Trot. The forecast was for cold air, rain, and wind. When I rose at 6:00, the temperature was 71º. Hmm. By the time I left my house 50 minutes later, it was 53º. I guess the forecast was right. As I sat in my car preparing for the race, it began to rain. Luckily for me, it stopped just before the race began at 8:30. No rain fell on me during the 3.107 miles. As soon as I finished, I walked to my car and drove home. I wanted to get out of the inclement weather. The wind chill must have been in the 20s.
My aching right hip prevents me from running as fast as I'd like, but I still managed to finish fifth in my age group (of 45). Maybe the other men are just as achy as I am. Overall, I was 130th of 1,515 finishers. My mile pace of 7:25.12 was much slower than that of a year ago on the same course (6:59.31). I was seventh of 76 a year ago. Had I run as fast this year as a year ago, I'd have won a medal. A year ago, I won a medal in the 10K but not in the 5K. Go figure.
I can't resist an anecdote. When I paid by mail well before the race, I signed up for the 10K. This year it was impossible to do both races, since the 10K started just 15 minutes before the 5K. When I jogged to the registration area, I realized that my hip would prevent me from running the 10K, so I picked up my packet and took it to the computer station. I explained that I wanted to run the 5K instead of the 10K. The young woman made some clicks on her computer and told me to use the bib number that came in my packet.
You guessed it. My name showed up in the list of 10K runners, and my "time" (38 minutes) was good enough for first place! When you add my 23-minute 5K to the 15 minutes between races, you get 38 minutes. My best time ever in the 10K is 40:36.54. As soon as I learned of the error, I notified the timing company. A few minutes ago, I saw that the error had been corrected. That's a relief, because the third-place finisher had been pushed to fourth place, which is not eligible for an award.
All's well that ends well.
Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D. 