KALB 5k

51:54.

6:39 less time than the Pioneer Day 5k.

And the reason for the faster time?

How many of you have ever had a personal cheerleader?

I'm not talking about having someone in your family who cheers on the team for the win.

I'm talking about a personal cheerleader who is a combination of a perky cheerleader with a sunny disposition and a pitbull (I truly mean that in the nicest way.).

When I didn't think I would be able to keep walking, because at one moment I didn't have any feeling in my feet and one buttock . . . the cheering was ever present "You CAN do this!"

When I am quite sure I lost a lung on a turn because I was wheezing like an old pump organ on its last gasp . . . the encouragement kept whispering "It's not much farther!"

I can't take credit for this.

Sure, I did my part with sweating and walking, but this finish time is all Beth's.

Without the pom-poms, she still cheered. Although at one point, she did do some cheerleader dancing moves, it was mostly just the field chatter that makes you believe anything is possible.

So today I completed my second 5k.

I'm kind of proud. I'm not dead yet. We got a private police escort (because when you bring up the rear and everyone else is DONE - they sort of want to make sure you don't get lost or run over by someone who doesn't believe you are part of the celebrants who are ready to pick up their awards and go home) and I finally dragged my carcass over the line.

Other than needing some water and a quick deep breath to make up for the asthmatic lack of oxygen in my lungs, I'm fine.

While I am convinced that oxygen normally fills my lungs, there were a couple of times I felt for all the world like I did when I was a kid and almost drowned in a swimming pool. The rain this morning left a humid, dribbly calling card that made it hard to breathe.

Fortunately, Beth was breathing for us both.

Now, I need to find my next goal. I need to get another 5k lined up in the sites and keep training. Otherwise, I totally know I will revert to the comfort loving slacker that my genes most certainly are compelling me to be. It must be genetic! Why else would it feel so good?

But I digress.

I'm actually pretty proud of being able to do this. Although the people who run are always going to be an inspiration to me, I am enjoying the process that goes on for these events.

While it is always a challenge, it is sort of what makes it worth it. Though slow and rusty to respond, there is still enough competitive DNA to make me want to succeed even if I have lost a lung, am breathing through a straw, am in pain and can no longer feel my limbs.

The athlete buried under years and pounds and scar tissue still wants to do well.

Thanks to God the Father, who has blessed me to want to keep trying, and to Beth, who makes it seem like a fun thing to do when decent people are drooling on their pillow, it's becoming something I am looking forward to doing.

Who knows what the future holds? Although I have no way of looking into the future, I do want it to be on my feet and not in some sort of buggy because I can't move myself anymore. I just hope this process will make life longer, fuller and continue to be the blast that it usually is.

Even when it hurts, just knowing that I can do something to make things better through the pain is worth it.

Now, if you will pardon me, I'll be in the bathtub marinating in Icy-Hot. I'm sorry to say you will have to get your own, as I don't believe there is any left in the house...