5Ks are tough, but picking the proper music is tougher

Saturday morning, for the third consecutive year, I’ll be at Natural Bridge State Park to take part in the Powell County Kiwanis Club’s annual 5K. In general, 5Ks aren’t so tough (I say that like I’m an old pro at them, when, in fact, this is only my third one ever), but since this starts out at a miniature golf course then moves up a GIANT AND STEEP HILL to the Lodge, I can rightly say it is a bit rough.

5K proves easy when running for a reason

I knew I made the right choice exactly 74 seconds into my run.

Prior to Saturday’s annual Powell County Kiwanis Club 5K at Natural Bridge, I had debated which album to play during the race, wondering if I should listen to the old standby Born to Run, which would help me focus more on lyrics and music and less on pavement and burning lungs.

Just 74 seconds into the race (I had fast-forwarded through some introductory ambient sounds), running as the morning sun slipped through the trees, the lyrics kicked in and I smiled.

Hey You: Consider donating as I Run Like Hell (note the two Pink Floyd references)

On May 7, I’m going to once again take part in the Powell County Kiwanis Club’s annual 5K at Natural Bridge. Last year, I did it as a goof, mainly proving to myself that I could do it. This year, I have a deeper reason: I’m running to raise money for Powell County’s Relay for Life, in memory of my late friend, the inestimable Norman Watson.

If you feel like making a charitable donation (I think it’s likely tax-deductible, too, but I’m not an accountant, so you probably want to double-check that), please message me to work out the arrangements. You can sponsor me per mile (3.2 in total) or K (5, duh), by time (last year I finished in 29:53, so you can put money on me beating it) or any other way you choose.

Thanks for considering this.

5K, you ain’t so tough after all

Dear 5K,

Oh, you thought you were smart, didn’t you, Powell County Kiwanis Club 5K? You thought you could beat us down by including steep hills, steps and an Indiana Jones-style swinging bridge. When that failed, you thought rain would stop us.

You were wrong 5K.

I don’t know the Latin translation, but in English, it’s roughly: We came. We ran. We conquered. We iced our aching knees down.

SK5K

I’ve found myself, in reasons I don’t fully understand, taking part in a 5K run Saturday morning in Powell County.

I’ve never run a 5K. I’ve never run a 1K. The last time I took part in any sanctioned running contest was in fifth grade.

That was in spring of 1986.