I decided I wanted to walk a 5k this summer. Truth be told, I really want a shirt showing that I walked a 5k. The feat doesn’t matter if I don’t have the memento to prove it. And yes, I’m keeping my expectation low enough so that I can accomplish it. I am content to walk not run 3.10686 miles.
My first attempt to achieve my goal came about the first weekend of June. This is perfect. I can do this right off the bat and take the rest of the summer easy. But I looked at the date wrong and realized I wouldn’t be able to do that particular race.
No worries. Surely another event would come about. Isn’t that what we do during summer?
Another one did come up. A couple weeks later. A doable date. All things looked promising. I signed up.
I started training. I walk about a mile after work so adding another two miles sounded time consuming. It’s just for two weeks, I can make it work. I am also a slow walker and I don’t want to be the last one waddling past the finish line. It’s not that I expect to be first, I just don’t want to be last. I tried incorporating speed into my training with my mantra “don’t be last, don’t be last, don’t be last” on repeat in my head.
The thing is, I think my body used the whole time thing as an excuse to get out of walking longer distances. My body has been complaining ever since I started upping my walk time. I can’t even complain out loud because all I’m doing is walking three miles (I round down to 3.1 but everyone else rounds up to 3.2).
Two weeks before the race I did a practice run, er, walk. I got this. I may not be able to do much else afterwards but I got this. I will walk this race and not come in dead last. I hope.