Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Wharf to Wharf/Woof to Woof

I'll be wearing bib number 13844 and am still incredulous that I, along with 1,600 others, entered this (my first!) run/walk.  This is supposed to be a fun event -- six miles along the coast from Santa Cruz to Capitola, encouraged by music and hundreds (thousands?) of enthusiastic spectators.  The only requirement is that you must be able to go at a pace of 15 minutes/mile.  I suppose that the other requirement is a willingness to put up with the huge crush of humanity that will be there.  However, nothing ventured, nothing gained.  I'm going to do it.

I researched on the Internet for instruction on how to train for walking this sort of race plus got tips from experienced members of my Fit Bit group.  In the end, the only advice I took was to buy good running shoes and to be sure to do stretches and warm-ups before doing a fast walk.  Oh, and to take short powerful strides to prevent shin splints.  Other than that, I'm just walking, walking, walking.  Most of my walks are of the shorter and slower variety, but I've done the full six miles three times now.  I'm relieved that I can make this body of mile travel at a 14'17" pace -- I'll break no records, but will very likely qualify to pick up a free t-shirt at the end of the race.  A modest (but extremely satisfying) accomplishment.

On Monday morning, I invited Chance along for my third six-miler.  I figured that with his boundless energy, he'd love it.  Our route was along a well-marked bike path along a divided highway through the rolling hills behind our town square.  It's very pretty countryside, in a California-drought-July sort of way.  We started early enough that it wasn't too warm yet.  Chance was a good walking partner, although he had to be reminded from time to time that we couldn't slow down so he could sniff interesting spots.  We did stop once in the shade so he could take a breather and get some squirts from my water bottle at our second mile.  I was out-walking my Border Collie/Queensland Heeler!  Okay, he's only seven months old, but still...

This picture is how we looked when we got back to the car.  I'm thinking that he's panting a bit more then I am.

When we got home he jumped in the pond for a good long paddle to cool off then slept on his dog bed on the porch for the next few hours.  But by early afternoon he was fully recharged and back to racing about chasing feathers, digging holes and gnawing on poor Murphy's ears.

I, on the other hand, was up for none of those things.  Sitting on the deck, sipping tea while turning the pages of my book was the extent of my energy level for the rest of the day.

I believe that the point goes to Chance.

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