The day came and although not technically St. Patrick's Day it was to celebrate and for a good cause, Special Olympics. The band was a playin'
and we were amassin'...The gun was ready to fire then...BANG
The crew ready to run. Me, son-in-law, B, A&A, and me wee daughter B...
Huh, just noticed we had adjoining numbers.
The sweet couple getting ready to celebrate 3 years of wedded bliss.
Now the story. I took off running or lightly jogging with the huge 2600 mass crowd and kept it up for a short bit before the shins started SCREAMING at me. I hadn't even gone half a mile and I was ready to quit, quit I tell you. I knew that B&B and A&A would take off and leave me, I didn't mind. I'm usually at the back of the pack because of my short stride and slow pace. I was passed by person after person and soon on the other side of the street I saw B&B as they were heading down towards the finish. I had a long way to go yet. I was a bit scared when one guy passed me wearing a portable oxygen candula thing. Great. I pushed through the pain by walking most of the first half of the race and suddenly just before the turn around part it stopped. I decided that I would round the orange cone and begin the run part.
I kept up my steady plodding and soon I could see the finish banner and hear my family yelling!
I heard B&B yelling that I was going to beat my time. I looked down the way and saw a huge clock ticking the time away.