5K number 3

So my goal for this run was to do it under 30 minutes.  Coach Sam was to pace me.  Unfortunately, Mrs. Coach Sam (She has a name.  It’s Megan.) hurt her back, so Coach had to do his part as a good dad.  It could not be helped.  We love Megan.  We do not like to think of her crawling along the floor after the baby.  I was disappointed, but needed to buck up.

Brent offered to step in.

Okay.  You know I adore Brent.  But here’s the thing.  I have literally been running my little butt off five days a week all summer long.  Brent has not.  He was offering to run faster than I was with far less training.

Yes, I know he’s a man.  Yes, I know he he has longer legs.  Yes, I know.

I just . . . felt . . . life was unfair. BUT I knew he was trying to help.  I knew he can run faster.  I really wanted to beat that time.

The run for our festival is run by the Rotarians.  It’s pretty casual.  So casual that they took up by bus out to the start and my dad (a Rotarian) just yelled “GO!” and we were off.

Those of you who have give birth know that at some point in the process, you get a little quirky about what you can and cannot tolerate.  This was like that.  About two miles into the race process (maybe sooner, if you ask Brent), I decided I did not want to talk any more.  I just wanted to run and survive.

Brent kept talking.  He was trying to play the part of a good trainer.  He was encouraging and instructing me along the way.

I did not want to hear it.

“Please . . . let’s not talk,” I panted.

Brent talked again.

“I . . .love . . . you . . . but I don’t want to talk . . . unless . . . it’s necessary.”

We neared the finish line.  Brent let his inner Olympic trainer take over despite our earlier conversations.

“Come on!! Give it all you’ve got!! Make me earn it!” he said.

We were very close to the finish.  A couple hundred of people were standing on both sides of the street waiting for our return.

“DO NOT TALK ANYMORE!!!! I JUST WANT TO FINISH!!!!!” I yelled with oxygen I didn’t know I still had.

There was a roar of laughter from the crowd.

Oh, dear.


I apologized many times throughout the day.

I haven’t seen the official results, but my timer said 30:16.  I am very, very happy with that.

And very grateful to my husband.

It occurs to me I should have had my picture taken with him for entering the race at the last minute, but here I am with Coach Sam.  You’ll just have to imagine Brent yelling over my shoulder.



5 thoughts on “5K number 3

  1. We were thinking about you and feeling really bad we weren’t there to cheer you on. Sounds like you didn’t need any additional “help.” We were in Iowa at a Luedtke family reunion. I know… you ARE like family, but not everyone in Les’s family would understand that. We are so very proud of you. (I can tell how impressed Mason is by the picture!!)

    • I missed you, but knew you were cheering for me in spirit wherever you were. (I will draw a little branch on Luedtke family tree. Maybe they won’t notice. But does that mean I have to go to the reunion?

  2. Pingback: 10 Running Answers « At Least We Know

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