How much trouble would someone get in to if they jumped off and popped open a parachute? Cause I want to do that!

                          

The race is put on by the Kansas City Track Club. An organization that has been putting on charity runs for over 30 years.

The charity for this year was Harvesters.

The race was held at Shawnee Mission Park. They have a Half-marathon, 10K and 5k. All 3 distances start at the same place,  just in front of the Theater In the Park and are out an back courses.

It was a cold and misty day at the park when I got there at about 8 am for the 9 am start. The parking was well organized and even though their was a line backed up to the park entrance it didn’t take long at all to park, maybe 5 min or less.

I changed out of my sweats and long sleeve t-shirt into shorts and regular t-shirt, and my running shoes and began stretching out and warming up. There were already a lot of people trying to loosen up and get warm before the race by running up and down the road, while I just stretched out next to my car and on the side of the road. I parked in the grass and I wasn’t about to sit down in that wet grass.

To say I was nervous before the race was an understatement. As my heart rate monitor was spiking at 100 BPM before the race even started. (The heart monitor is NOT for health reasons I wear it to keep my pace). I was trying to take slow deep breaths to calm myself but it just wasn’t working.

As I was standing just off to the side of the starting line waiting for the half marathoner to start.

(Each distance started 5 minuets after the previous distance with the half-marathoners starting first. It’s a good idea you don’t want the 5k sprinters running over the sometimes slower half marathoners.)

As I was standing there trying to relax a guy came up to me and wished me a Happy Birthday. I immediately realized that he was the first blogger that I actually met on one of these runs that I’ve been doing and posting about for 2 years. I first meet him 2 years ago, at the KC Half Marathon. AS we waited for the half-marathoners we talked about some races that we have been doing, or lack there of, on my part, and general small talk. Then it was time to the race to start. We wished each other good luck, and it was on.

The first half of the run is all down hill so it goes pretty fast. But I was still going to take it slow and just coast down the hills. But you know your going slow when you get passed by a blind lady being led by a dog and a helper.

I was greatly under prepared for this race, with a bad cold a few weeks back and some projects at work that kept me at the office late. I wasn’t able to adequately prepare for this distance. By the turn around point of the 5k I was already sweating like a whore in church. That’s where the course leveled off and the pushing really began.

I finally ran out of gas just past the half way point and had to start walking. I made the first half in 40 minuets which isn’t fast at all. In fact its down right pathetic. Even though I have mostly rock music on my iphone it just wasn’t playing the right music to keep me motivated.

I would walk for 30 seconds then run for about 2 min the walk another 30 seconds then run, then walk, run, walk, run, walk, run, you get the idea. When I get to the bottom of the damn dam I decide it would be a good idea sprint up it. Yeeeaaa, no, that wasn’t a good idea. I threw up at the top. Worst part is that I lost my gum so I had that taste (pancakes) in my mouth for the 1.5 miles to the finish line. Looking back I guess I could have gotten some of the lake water to rinse out my mouth but that might have given me some kind of nasty disease. Or maybe not I don’t know how clean that lake water is.

After that I walked the hills and ran the flats all the way back. As I crested the last hill I was running at a decent pace  to, you know, impress the ladies.  I was all alone coming in to the finish line. Just me, some spectators and the finish line, with the electronic mats laid across my path, and a photographer there taking pics. Yup just me, spectators, about 100 or so, I don’t really know the exact amount, and the mats that keep the time electronically, right. in. my. path.

Did I mention the MATS IN MY PATH! I have to cross the mats for my time to stop.

The mats come up about 2″ from the surface of the street and look just like mats at any Quicktrip with thick wires running underneath them.

Ok, so did I mention the timing mats? Check.

Did I mention the 100 people watching me? Check.

Did I mention the photographer? Check.

Get the picture?

Are you going to make me say it? Are you going to make me relive that moment again?

Well you’re out of luck I sailed right thought that finish line WITHOUT  incident! W00T! W00t!

You thought I tripped didn’t you? Sorry to disappoint you but I didn’t trip, stumble, or fall, over the finish line.

But I did finish dead last in my age group.

What did I get out of the whole thing? I burned some serious calories, had a good time to start my birthday, and I got this sweet pic, and some much needed motivation to start planning next years races and the knowledge that I need to start training sooner. And two days of sore legs.

It’s a good run and suggest you do it next year I probably will!

Y’all keep hangin’ and bangin’, I’m out!

                          

So I’ll tell ya about a dream I had the other night.

(deed-lee, deed-lee, deed-lee)

Gene Simmons is a mutant serial killer, he is married to Debra Norville. They are both mutant serial killers and last night they tried to kill me and destroy my neighborhood.

Gene’s doesn’t have a left hand, he has an axe, not a guitar “axe” but more of a lumberjacks axe. For a right hand he has one of those old fashioned rotary egg beaters.

Debra Norville, Gene’s wife, has a 50 cal. that unfolds out of the top of her head. Instead of legs she has tank tracks.

They are walking (and rolling) down my street shooting, and smashing, everything up like they were some kind of Terminators. But they’re not Terminators. They were just basically being JERKS! (I hate jerks.)

So I walk out to the middle of my street with my arms slightly raised from my side as if to say “Dude? WTF? Srsly, your effing up my ‘hood.”

When they see me they stop creating a ruckus and I say “Dude, whats the dealio? Why you be hatin’? Wat’s up wiff dat, yo?”

I have no weapons unless you call superior intelligence, (shut it), athletic ability, and hand to hand fighting skills, that I mastered in the Marine Corps. And yes, I do consider them weapons, so I wasn’t totally unarmed as we battled to the death.

They just looked at me and went back to creating quite a fracas in my ‘nood. What were they thinking? Like I wasn’t going to do any thing about some moron mutant celebrities destroying my street. I turn to my a slack jawed local and say “I think these two buffoons want a donnybrook“. Sure does look that way, what are you gonna do The D” He says with a a touch of fear in his voice. “Well, friend if they want a donnybrook, then a donnybrook they shall have.”

So I snuck up to that Norville bitch using the tools of stealth movement that I have mastered while stationed in Japan. As she was rolling past my position I leapt out, grabbed the barrel of the 50 caliber machine gun bent it down and stuck it in her mouth. There by rendering it useless. If she fired she would blow out the back of her head. She then threw me to the ground, and started rolling towards me screaming. I sprang up just as she is about to crush my head like a pee under her tank like tracks. Landing on her back I say “Hey, lady don’t you know it’s not polite to talk with your mouth full?” Then I Judo chopped off that annoying bitchs head off with a resounding HAY-YYAAA!

She’s dead.

One down, one to go.

Gene is another story he’s much more heavlly armed than is old lady. He’s pissed, he starts spitting blood from his mouth (did I mention that he’s in his Kiss make up? Yea, he is) He starts yelling in some language that I don’t understand, probably jive. We being running toward each other, he is swinging his axe, with G.I.Joe kung-fu grip, and spinning his egg beater. I grab a muffler just as we smash into each other with the force of that atom smasher CERN (if it worked) thingamajig. I deflect his axe with the muffler and punch him in the eye with my free hand as I’m flipping over him, he catches my left pinky toe with his egg beater and cuts it clean off! “Yousa! that’s gonna leave a mark!” I exclaim.

With a swift round house kick to the back of his head before he can turn around he falls to the ground. I pounce on his back and rip off his axe arm. I then begin my victory laugh “BUWAHAHA” which Gene is not a fan of, apparently. He get up and runs at me I leap over him and flip in mid air and strike a killing blow by placing his own axe in to the back of his head.

(deed-lee, deed-lee, deed-lee)

That ladies and gents is how I saved the world from Gene Simmons and Debora Norville.

You can all sleep in peace now.

Have a nice week!