This is going to contain anything I see fit. Anything I think is important. Pretty much everything that involves me. Why, you ask? Because it's all about me. I am the Center of the Universe and the rest of you mearly revolve around me. So, pull up a bar stool. Order a pint. Look around and enjoy me. Oh, and please ignore the spelling mistakes. Also, remember to take care of your bartender.

Monday, December 17, 2007

MY FIRST RACE

I was recently asked about my first race.

Have you ever been out in the middle of a workout or a race and had everything going bad? You know the moments. It starts raining, the pedestrians, bike riders or rollerbladers are getting in the way. Or you spend more time dodging potholes and broken glass then you do pushing. On days like that I have often asked myself “How and why did I ever start this silly sport?” Whenever I ask this question I always come back to my very first race.
It all started on July 4th weekend 1996. I was sitting in my favorite Cape Cod pub. Having a few beers, singing and dancing to some Irish tunes with some friends. During the band’s break, Dan, the bands lead and pub owner asked me if I was going to do their road race in August. Knowing that I was very active in wheelchair sports, such as basketball and skiing, he assumed I was into racing too. At this point I have never done a race. I always thought that Henry Ford found a way to mass produce cars in order to keep people from having to run or push long distance. So I told him I didn’t really think so.
When the band started up again Dan wasn’t ready to let me off the hook. He decided to ask me again, from the stage, won’t I do his race. He even got the crowd on his side. And after a few minutes of razing and the crowds chanting of “do it, do it” I gave in and told him and the crowd that I would do it. I received a quick cheer and we went right back to dancing and singing. Only problem now.......where would I get a racing chair inside of three weeks.
Well the problem of the racing chair was solved a few days later. A friend that I play basketball with offered to hook me up with a “loaner”. About a week before the race I picked up the racer. Now another problem. The weather didn’t cooperate. It rained and rained and I never got the chance to go out for a few miles of workouts. I wasn’t to worried. I have always been in good shape and figured “Oh hell, I can do it. After all, it’s only five miles”. Yea right!
Race day came and the sun was shining and the temps had climbed into the high 90’s. Ok, so it’s gonna be hot. I can handle it. After the drive down to the cape, I rolled into the pub to check in. After all, I had pre-registered. I went into the pub and checked the list for my name and number. Nothing, here .. Hmmmm, Maybe I should be concerned? Nahhhh........
I spoke to Dan and he squared it away. I was assigned number 295. Maybe I’ll play it in the lottery. Could be my lucky number.
While waiting for race time I checked out my equipment. Let’s see, tires, three of them with air included. Water bottle, yup, got one of those. Oh yes, gloves. I got my old batting gloves from college. That was the sum of the equipment check. I might be a rookie but, I am no idiot. Ya wanna bet? I was soon to discover that I had a lot to learn.
Race time arrived and I wasn’t alone on the starting line. Dave Harrison, the provider of the chair had arrived. Along with his years of pushing. Also, Jamie Legeyt, a 10 year old from these parts. Home field advantage for him. Not a problem.
The gun went off and so did I. At first I was feeling pretty good. I managed to stay with Dave through the first couple of turns. Even Jamie was with us. Not bad for a kid I thought. After the first half mile we cleared the turns and were on a straight away. That’s when Dave took off and I never saw him again. Not a problem. He knows what he’s doing. But suddenly, Jamie began creeping up along side of me. OK, this is gonna be embarrasing...beat by a 10 year old.
Jamie continued to cruise by me and I never saw him till the end too. I pushed along at not warp speed. The runners had caught up with me and were passing me with ease. I got a few cheers and words of encouragement and that kept me going.
At the top of mile 3, I realized that I was getting the some unbelievable blisters on both hands. Boy those were gonna hurt. Well, I’ll deal with that later
Mile 4. My arms and shoulders are screaming. My heart feels as if it wants to crash right through my chest. And I just kept thinking ”who invented this dumb sport?” I was just realizing that I was more than half way through this ordeal. Hey, I can do this....
Suddenly, BANG!!! Just as I pushed down on the push rims, two screws on the right side push rim pulled right out and the rim separated from the wheel. At the same time my hand jammed into the spokes and I cut myself pretty good. Great, the last thing I thought was this was a blood sport. I had finally figured out what was wrong and then another screw let go. Now out of 6 screws, there was only 3 holding the rim in place. OK, mental note, add the push rims to the equipment checklist. This was getting tougher. Now I had to time every push for when the good side of the push rim was up top.
Into the 5th mile. Hey, I am almost done. Just a little under a mile left. I can do this. I was sailing along. Well kinda. Turning onto RT 28. I remember this road. The pub is on this road. OK, the big finish, lets make it look good. Man, do I hurt and am I thirsty. Went through the water miles ago. I can wait till the end.
Suddenly, there it was. An oasis in the distance. The Pub!! Right where I had left it The same place this nightmare began. Soon, real soon, I’ll be sitting back and enjoying a cold beer and hotdog.
I came zooming in. Well, more like a crawl. But, I came in. Looking up at the calender....ahhh, I mean the clock, I see 39:46. Well, what can you expect for a first race.
I make for my truck to get my broken, sweaty, blistered and bloody body out of the racing chair and cool off with a cold beer. As I pass the back of Jamie’s dad’s van, I see the kid sitting in the shade with a ice cold soda and a mouth-watering hotdog. All comfy, cool and not a worry in he world. The least he could have done is break a sweat.
Well, that’s was my first race. And for all the pain and torture I cause myself, I have to admit, I LOVED IT. Every bit of the 39:40 that was on the clock. I loved it all. So when a race or workout is going bad and I have no idea why I do this, I realize that I just love it.

No comments: