Run, Fatboy, Run!

Two months ago, I eagerly signed up to run the Seattle Torchlight 5K. I was playing softball 2-3 times a week, I was running anywhere from 1-4 miles every other day, and I was excitedly embracing my new healthy eating habits with double doses of broccoli and oranges pretty much daily.

Today, I saw in my calendar that this 5K race I was previously so pumped about is this Saturday. The softball season has been over for 2 weeks, I haven't run in over a month initially due to a painful bruise on my shin and lately due to utter laziness and complete lack of motivation, and although I'm still eating broccoli very often, it's usually just a single dose and most of the time it's on my pizza, covered in sour cream or on the side of my plate next to a grilled cheese sandwich.

The words in my calendar reminding me of this impending race might as well have been written in flames because I fear that is what I will be going down in come Saturday. Unless I take those flames and put them under my ass, I'm in big trouble. Actually, let me rephrase - if I don't put those flames under my ass, I might die.

So, there is really only one thing to do. Well, I suppose there are two things to do. One would be to quit the race and just not show up. This isn't really an option anymore though for a couple of reasons. First, I just told you all about the race and the last thing I want to look like is a quitter in the eyes of everybody I do and do not know. Second, I signed up to run this race with a bunch of friends so there's no way they'll let me no-show. If I did, my Facebook wall would never hear the end of it.

Therefore, the only option is to buck up, pack in some training in the remaining days I have left and eat like a champion so I make it to the finish line as opposed to NOT making it to the toilet in time mid-race.

Basically this could be an extremely humiliating experience or a huge life accomplishment. Predictions?

To be continued... that is, if I make it.