Shamrockity-ramrackety-ramalamadingdong

Sunday morning, we packed up and headed to Baltimore so that I could run the St. Patrick’s Day Shamrock 5K with Kelly. Adam ran too, but not with us. Way ahead of us, in fact.

The weather — let’s just say it was less than fair.

It was cold, the roads were wet, but thankfully it never went beyond a misting of rain. And the breeze was light. On the flip side, we were all feeling a little under the weather. Kelly had a horrible headache. I had a sinus pressurey/stomach thing going on, and Adam wasn’t feeling top-notch either.

Beware the Ides of March! Just thought I’d throw that in there.

Like last year, there were a little more than three thousand people there, of all ages, abilities, national heritages, and running attire.

Some had more character than others.

As we began lining up for the start, Kelly and I both felt our stomachs growl. We wished we had a banana to eat.

Then the Pretzel Man showed up. We couldn’t buy one though, and so we continued altering between huddled shivering and bouncing to keep our muscles warm until the race finally started.

And we’re off!

Once we really started downhill, there was a river of green-shirted runners, as far as the eye could see. From the back, that is.

Right around the end of our first mile, we saw the race leaders already in their final mile.

This was the first time the Run-o-Cam accompanied me in a race. He had a good time. As in “fun.” His time as in “run” was the same as mine, which was — well — less than “good.” But that’s okay.

Keith waited at the finish. He didn’t get photos of us because we were running too fast, the camera was too slow and his fingers were numb. He forgot his gloves.

He was grumpy for a little while. So we went to Uno’s.

From our table, we could see the end of the St. Patrick’s Day Parade route. I’m glad we were inside. It wasn’t a particularly exciting spectacle.

Except for this guy. He’s about to get swarmed by all these people. But he didn’t mind.

And anyway, there was ice cream.

And so it begins: The Sarahthon, Vol. 2

I noticed the other day that the Run-o-Cam was looking a little out of shape. He doesn’t have quite as much energy as he used to, he seemed less motivated, more distressed, and a little softer around the middle. After all, he hadn’t been running for several months now. (Has it really been that long?!) He swore he’d been thinking about it though.

“It’s such a shame,” I told Run-o-Cam, “We worked so hard last year.”

“And made so much progress, too,” he somberly replied.

Why, by June of last year, the Run-o-Cam and I were going for 6 mile runs, and then some — a major improvement from the nothing we’d been doing. We’d run 5Ks and 10Ks (okay, one 10K). We’d defied odds. We were well on our way to marathon fame and glory. Minus the fame and glory. But life interfered — as it is wont to do — and we made the difficult decision to defer the marathon until the following year. This year.

The Marine Corps Marathon is 8 months and 13 days away. Will we make it to the starting line? Will we make it to the finish? Will this be our year? God I hope so. Otherwise, I fear, we’ll simply resign ourselves to give up and focus on something less sadomasochistic. Like Sarahpalooza.

“Run-o-Cam,” I said today after an hour of Pilates (or Pirates! ARRRR!), “What do you say we get a taste of running today?”

“It’s a beautiful, warm, slightly overcast, gently breezy day — a rare meteorological gem in February — and we have less than 5 weeks until the Shamrock 5K,” Run-o-Cam replied, “I say HELLS YEAH!”

And so, the Sarahthon began again.

Out for Blooooooood

It’s been almost a week, I know, I know. Oops.

Quickly then, I’ll just say the 5K was a good run, generally fun, though mostly uphill which kind of sucked. But our time was right about the same as the last one, which had been mostly downhill (maybe even better if it hadn’t been for awful cramps in Kelly’s stomach and calf that required a few minutes’ walking). Surely this is a sign of improvement. Adam finished in a little over 26 minutes, very respectable for one who hasn’t been racing in years, although he is 6′ 3″ with very long legs.

The race was small, only about 150 people, but the Druid Hill Park course was nice (except for making us run the final quarter-mile uphill), there was lots of cheering and encouragement coming up to the finish line, and the post-race food was awesome. I love the Red Cross.