Running to Stand Still

Exercising used to be so much better when I wasn't even aware that I was doing it. I used to play basketball for hours and ride my bike all over or rollerblade...and I never even considered the fact that it was good for me. It was just what I did. And then, at some point after parenthood, I reached that stage where I had to be fooled into exercising. I'd go play father-son hockey with my kid's PeeWee team and about half-way through it, I'd skate to the bench and look at some of the other dads and say, "Hey, did you see me out there? I'm exercising!" We'd all get a good chuckle and then we'd have a beer.

These days, though, I am painfully aware of each minute spent exercising. I've been doing some strength training because, you know, a pound of fat burns just two calories per day, but a pound of muscle burns 65 calories each day just by existing on your body. More recently, I started jogging -- first on the treadmill and then, about two weeks ago, outside. I typically run at about a 12 minute per mile pace, which is slightly faster than a geriatric with cane, but at least I can say I'm running (unlike all those other people who WALK on the treadmills at the gym). I told people I was training for a Half-K race. "You run to the end of the block and then get in line for the free Gatorade, granola bars and fruit." We'd chuckle and then go get a beer.

This past Saturday, I put aside pain and common sense to enter a road race. I was on vacation, in the beautiful lakefront town of Menominee, Michigan (gateway to da Yooper), and there was a big festival, including a Saturday morning run. As I scanned the brochure, I noticed there actually was a Half-K race, but registration was limited to children. I opted for the 5-K race and completed the 3.2 mile run in a blazing 30:27. Notably, my heart did not explode. Imagine my disappointment, though, when I heard post-race that I could have entered the "Clydesdale Division" which they had set up for "bigger runners." How sweet would that have been, to be lumbering down Main Street with an icy cold Budweiser in my hand at 9 a.m.?

It's worth noting that I ran every day on vacation and returned home at exactly the same weight as when I left. (Weight: 234 lbs.)