Edwin Moses I am not.

If you don't know who Edwin Moses is, you should, so click here.

Anyway, this evening I put on my running shoes, loaded up my I-pod, and headed to the stadium with my friend and neighbor Susana. She told me that there was a race in which you could try to see how far you could run in two hours. I am crazy, so this sounded like fun to me. Its been several months since I ran the Chicago Marathon, but I'm not in horrible shape, so I figured I could pound out about 12 miles or so.

When we got to the stadium, I quickly found out that we would not be jogging around the track for two hours. That event was held last week. This week was the Tec open track meet. Being a former (emphasis on former) track man, I got a little excited, and decided to enter the 1,500 meters, 200 meters, 4x400 meter relay, and the 5k. I knew I would be tired at the end, but you know, I'm tough, I could handle it.

The meet started with the 100 meter dash. There were only five guys, so that went pretty quick. Next was the 1,500 meters. I lined up with about 15 other people, and the gun sounded. I felt great for about 200 meters, as I shot out into the lead and quickly found a comfortable pace. That pace became quite uncomfortable about 300 meters into the race, when I realized how badly I needed to use the bathroom. As I told my body to forget about it and just run, my body laughed at me. This is not a good feeling when you are only at the beginning of your first of four races. I reliquished the lead before I had completed the first lap, and struggled through the rest of the race. I picked it up a little on the last lap, catching two people ahead of me, and lapping two others that were hurting even worse than I was.

After I finished the 1,500 I was regretting running it, especially when they announced that the 200 meters would be next. I walked directly from the finish line of the 1,500 to the starting line of the 200. I knew I was in trouble when the other guys in the race all were wearing track spikes, and all looked about 19 or 20 years old. They stuck me in lane one, just so I could see everyone ahead of me the whole time. The gun went off, and I shot out of the blocks (okay, so there weren't really any blocks), and quickly saw that I was going to get smoked. That is not a familiar feeling for me, but I dealt with it pretty well. I strided down the stretch in fifth place (out of 5), trying to save as much energy as possible for the 4x400, which unfortunately was the very next event.

I had already found three other guys to run the relay with, but right before the race the directors decided to remake the teams. Fortunately, my teammates let me run last, as I needed the time to rest (and I also like to bring the stick home). We started out really slow, as our first runner was about 60 meters back at the handoff. The second guy brought us to within 40 meters, and the third guy ran a great race, catching two girls ahead of him, and handing me the baton with about a 5 meter lead. This has always been a situation I have loved and thrived in. I took off like a bat outta hell (as we used to say back at BCHS) and felt good around the first curve. My buddy Nathan the Aussie was running the anchor leg for the team in second, and I could hear him coming up along side me through the backstretch. He passed me about halfway down the backstretch and I was seeing a repeat of the 1996 Highland Gold Medal Meet, where I ran my best quarter mile of all time. I now am feeling all 10 of those years that have passed since I could run like that. Anyway, I hung right behind him down the back stretch and through the final curve, and with about 150 meters to go I told my body it was time to move. I had done this so many times before, and I was expecting to come flying around the final turn and blow Nate away down the home stretch. I always won these matchups. This used to be what I lived for. Well, I am glad I don't live for that anymore, because when I told my body "Go!" my body said "No!" I gave everything in had over the last 100 meters, but could only watch in frustration as Nathan pulled further ahead and beat me by about 15 meters. He was a gracious winner, and thanked me after the race for running the 200, expending my energy and making it easier for him to win the 4x4.

I felt horrible at the end of the race. I realized that I have always felt this way after a grueling quarter mile, but the pain is a good thing when you have just won. I failed to mention that the only thing I had eaten all day was two large bowls of Frosted Flakes. Well, I hate to be gross, but I knew that what I really needed to do was puke, not run a 5k. As I walked to the dressing rooms drinking a little Powerade, my head started to swim and I just kept praying that I didn't fall over. After laying down for a few minutes in the dressing room, I felt better, so I got up to walk outside. I didn't get very far before losing the entire contents of my stomach. This was a good thing, as I felt 10 times better, and went back out to the track to warm down. I passed on the 5k, and stretched while I cheered Susana on. She ran/walked a pretty good race.

All in all, the track meet was a great experience. I met some new people, definitely got some good exercise, and realized just how out of shape I am. I a way, maybe it was a good thing that I got smoked. It has motivated me to get back in shape. It is amazing how hard it is to get in shape, and how easy it is to get out of it. There is a spiritual application here, but that is a blog for another day.

P.S. For anyone worried about my physical state, you don't need to be. I just had some Subway and a couple of Gatorades, and now I am good to go. I think I could probably roll out another quarter mile right now. Okay, maybe not. :-)