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| The red thing goes in our shoe to track us in case we don't come back |
If you joined us a couple of posts back, then you recall
that for my birthday weekend the girls signed me up for a 5k run/walk followed
by some CPR training. For the inquiring minds out there, we did go and I
obviously survived since I am able to write this post. I thought that I’d take
this opportunity to share my experience with you as it happened so that you can
see how I was tortured by those who claim they love me. What you will find
below is a timeline of my punishment and please remember, this is how they made
me celebrate my birthday.
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| I thought it would work |
6:14 – Slipped my flask into the waistband of my shorts. The
morning called for Irish coffee for that extra kick.
6:15 – The flask was confiscated and I was told it had to
remain home. I pouted but it didn’t work.
6:20 – We’re finally out the door. I am wearing the light
blue T-shirt that Health First provided, some gray exercise shorts, and an arm
band with a case for my music player. So far this is the only gift I have
received for my birthday and it was bought for me by my son, Zac. He wasn’t
supposed to give it to me until the party Sunday night but he loves me and
figured I needed the distraction and at least one gift before my carcass was
found on the side of the road. I had actually wanted one of these for my
birthday, because I wanted to start walking around the block–around my block at
my pace, not someone else’s block and pace. Still, I was glad I had it and
strapped it on before leaving the house.
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| Before they tortured me |
6:23 – On the road and I just realized that I forgot the
music player back at the house. Teri comes to my rescue by taking my phone and
downloading Pandora. I also realize I forgot to use the bathroom before we
left. This is going to be a rough morning.
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| More people than I expected, but I didn't expect me, either |
6:42 – We arrive outside of the Space Coast Stadium and join
the long line of cars waiting to park. Apparently I am not the only one who
waited until the last minute to leave the house. I wonder if they have
remembered their music players.
As we’re waiting to move at a snail pace, which is probably
faster than I will be walking in this race, I notice a few people with
participation numbers pinned to their shirts. They are already running up and
down the sidewalks. The girls tell me these people are just warming up. I think
they are showing off.
6:52 – We are finally able to park the van. The race starts
at 7:00 and we have to cross a giant field to get to the starting line. I
grumble that they could have had us park in the closer field and save us from
walking even further, but the girls tell me to classify it as my warm up. Now I
feel as if I am showing off.
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| Looks like I was praying to live |
6:58 – We join the long line of over-enthusiastic
runners/walkers. As we’re approaching, several people are stretching their
various body parts to avoid injury. I’m so impressed that I now want another
coffee and a jelly donut. I’m also regretting that the girls confiscated my
flask.
Along the running lane are six signs that look like hour
markers to me ranging from 7:00-12:00. At first I grow annoyed thinking that
the race was going to have six different start times and I could have slept in
for another couple of hours.
“Those aren’t hours,” one of the girls tell me. “They’re
minutes.” After seeing the baffled expression on my face, she continued. “They
are there to represent how fast you can run a mile, seven minutes to twelve
minutes.”
I begin to look around for the sixty minute sign. The girls
shake their heads and lead me behind all the parents pushing strollers who are
standing behind those who claim to be able to run the mile in twelve minutes. I
can’t believe people brought little kids in strollers. I mean, my ankles have
been rammed by negligent stroller drivers at Disney and the mall. Why was I
having to dodge them at an event I didn’t even volunteer for? I take four giant
steps backward.
Ahead of us is a trio–two guys and a lady. The guys are
wearing Superman and Captain America socks and didn’t seem at all embarrassed
by it. I glance around looking for the bullies who taught people like them the
errors of their ways, but then realize it is almost 7:00 in the morning and
most bullies are still in bed sleeping off last night’s drunken binge.
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| They look to happy at my pain |
7:00 – The lady at the front shouts through her megaphone,
“Ready, Set,” and then a horn blasts. I was expecting a gun firing into the
air, but was sadly disappointed. A horn just seems anti-climactic to me.
We are so far back in the congested lane that it takes
almost a minute for us to even move. Moms with strollers begin to pass me. I
just turn Pandora up louder and walk on.
The girls have set the pace. They want to walk each mile in
twenty minutes and so Char has set a Disney pace and I am wondering what ride
we are rushing toward.
7:06 – My calves are starting to hurt and sweat is beading
on my forehead. I still have to go to the bathroom.
7:18:45 – We have reached the first mile marker and the
girls are happy that we exceeded our goal by fifteen minutes. I’m just happy
I’m still in motion and try to ignore the circling buzzards.
Two things I notice at this point is that people actually do
run at these events. Sometimes, they even pay for the opportunity and that is a
waste of cigar money to me.
The other thing is that we actually did pass people. I was
shocked, nay flabbergasted, that it was even possible. With a feeling of pride, we pick up the pace.
7:28 – The one and only water station is coming up on our
right. They need these at every mile marker I think as some of us dehydrate
faster than others.
We each grab our Dixie Cup of lukewarm water and continue
on. Ten feet ahead on the left is a large garbage can for the empty cups. No
one uses it. Instead, there is a mound of tiny, discarded cups on the right two
feet ahead of the garbage can. Ridiculous! While they are teaching us to be
healthy, we are destroying the environment. I am appalled and throw my cup on
the pile with the others.
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| I'm trying to avoid that stroller |
7:30 – My right foot starts to turn numb and I wonder what
they had put in the water.
7:36 – We pass Superman and Captain America and feel quite
proud of ourselves for the accomplishment. Of course, I have to convince Teri
that is Captain America and not Flash. She is confused because there are wings
above Captain America’s shield on his socks. I promise a superhero movie
marathon when we get home if we survive.
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| I hope they called this in to carry me the rest of the way |
7:37 – We pass the second mile marker three minutes ahead of
schedule. I try to convince the girls to slow down, but they only pick up
speed. As we near some other walkers, Teri orders, “Pass to the left, pass to
the left.” I look at her strangely. “I saw Captain America do it in the last
movie.”
“And you thought the guy back there was the Flash?”
7:42 – I notice that I’m weaving instead of walking in a
straight line and wonder if security will try to make me blow into a
Breathalyzer. The need to go to the bathroom increases and I weave faster.
7:56 – We cross the three mile marker. Almost there.
7:57:35 – People are lined up on the sides as we cross the
finish line, cheering us on. I grab a bottle of water and head to the nearest
bathroom, ignoring everyone else around me. The girls are bragging that we made
it under our goal. I’m just happy to be alive.
8:10 – The CPR training doesn’t begin until 9:00 so we find
some seats in the bleachers and try to recapture our normal breathing. We each
grab another bottle of water and pray for time to move faster.
Health First has some tables set up with literature and free
handouts of hand sanitizer, sunscreen–shouldn’t this have been given to us
before the race?–Koozies, and stress balls. We like free stuff so we take one
of each.
8:35 – We begin to make our way to the baseball field where
the training will be. On the ground are sixty practice dummies just waiting to
be rescued. There are also sixty infant dolls beside them to be practiced on.
We form lines in front of the dummies, waiting our turn to save an artificial
life.
We are told that about 5,000 people showed up for the race,
but by the look of the baseball field only a few hundred remain for the CPR. I
am hoping this means that the training will go faster.
I worry that I don’t see sanitized wipes for the dummies we are
to practice on and determine that I am not doing the mouth-to- mouth part.
8:55 – The organizer makes some announcements and thank yous
to all who made my torture possible. The digital display on the scoreboard
tells me it is 78 degrees. I sweat harder.
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| These scare me |
9:05 – We watch a video teaching me how to press down on the
dummies’ chest to keep blood pumping. Luckily there will be no mouth-to-mouth
so I feel a little bit better. When it is my turn I yell out, “Someone call
911!”
“Robbie, start pressing down on his chest and hush.”
I look down at the dummy. “Sorry, dude, I suck at this.
You’re going to die.”
“Robbie!”
I press down on his chest thirty times and then move to the
back of the line. The dummy is still on the ground so I don’t think I saved
him.
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| Saving dummies |
9:16 – It is now 80 degrees and I’m standing in the middle
of a baseball field waiting for a video to begin entitled, “Introducing You to
Infant Choking.” I guess that explains the baby dummies.
“I already know how to choke someone. Why am I watching
this?”
“It’s how to save a choking infant, not how to choke one.”
“That’s not what they said.”
“Robbie!”
I pound the babies back five times and press on its chest
five times. Meanwhile, one of the girls is taking a picture of this brutality.
9:25 – I’m finally finished. The lady hands me a card, which
in turn I hand to someone else who hands me my certificate announcing I know
how to choke a baby and rescue dummies, another free T-shirt, and a bag of
other free stuff, like a personal pizza with two toppings from Pizza Gallery. I
grab another bottle of water and head to the van. I want my pizza and air
conditioning. I’ve earned it.
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| Holding it far away from me |
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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