The Memphis Runners Track Club Road Race Series started this weekend. We eased into it with an early 5K through a pleasant part of town (by a golf course, a park, some older residences with shady wooded lots). I didn’t have a goal time in mind, and I wasn’t ready to break any PR. I’ve mentioned before that in this heat, speedwork has taken a comfy spot in the back seat. Even on the treadmill, it’s just too much.
Still, I had hoped to hit at least where I was at my last 5K – somewhere between 31-33 minutes. Nope. I
came in felt like I came in dead last. I didn’t, but there was about half a mile where I’d decided that I was actually with the last little pack. I finished in between 38 and 39 minutes. Can you tell why?
Are you squinting? What’s that in my hand, you ask? I look a little sick in this one – that extra 2.25lbs must have really been getting to me.
You get a nice little shot of the kitty here. She was a sweet little calico kitten. Early on in the race, she was running with the pack – definitely losing ground. I passed her at first, then glanced back and just couldn’t help myself. She was so cute with her little legs pounding the pavement. I skipped back behind her and scooped her up.
A few other runners questioned whether or not she was homeless. She had fleas, ear mites, and she was running loose in a busy Memphis street. She mewed a little here and there, and she definitely tried to squirm away from me – that was pretty much constant for the whole second mile. I’d stop and walk to see if she would calm down, but it didn’t seem to help much. So we ran and walked off and on the rest of the way. Despite her squirming, the sweet little thing never once hissed at me or bit me. She just squirmed all over my hands and arms, occasionally letting out a squeaky little protest.
As we catted through the finish line, I scanned the crowd for my husband. I knew we really didn’t need to rescue a cat – we have two already, which is plenty for us and our space. It didn’t take long to draw a crowd and within a few minutes of finishing the race, I could tell that the little calico had started to stick to the nice lady who ended up leaving with her. She said that she had been thinking of getting another cat (she already had 1).
It felt really good to rescue a sweet little life, but it also felt good to send her to someone else’s home.
Setting the bar low at the beginning of this series didn’t hurt things, either. Ya know?