Running memories

This week’s blog is about a run from my past, when I still had hair and when running seemed simpler.

Carl

The smiling runner in the picture above is not me. They take pictures of the guy in the lead. I was the sweaty kid running a few minutes behind.

The runner is of Carl Erskine. It is a picture frozen in time from my high school days. A photo that jumped out at me as I was recently flipping through an old school yearbook.

In 1991 I was a six-foot, blonde-haired ninth grader at Musquodoboit Rural High School in Nova Scotia. I devoured any book or magazine about running and a dog-eared Hilroy scribbler served as my fanatical running diary. Carl was a few years older, set to graduate and the only other runner I knew.

This is a story of one of my early running memories.

The bet

It all started with a bet. The school had organized a 10K walkathon and I had gotten it into my 14-year old head that this was a great opportunity for a race. I challenged Carl the other runner in the school to a race I hoped I had a chance to win. Pocket money exchanged hands amid the smell of french fries and sweaty teenagers in our high school cafeteria. Twenty dollars was to go to the winner.

Carl was two years older and slightly more muscled than the skinny Grade 9 kid challenging him (me). I figured I ran and trained regularly and had a chance. I was no superstar but I’d run 10K in under 39 minutes and ran on the track team. I was hoping I had not bitten off more than I could…run.

The race

I took off like a mad man with Carl in tow. I think there may have been a few girls I was hoping to sprint by in the first kilometres and impress. The pace eventually slowed due to my inability to maintain it with my skinny grade-nine legs. The kilometres that had flown by at first ground to the pace of a mid-afternoon chemistry-class. Slow and painful.

My hopes of winning and being $20 richer died as Carl passed me and my fate seemed sealed. My legs were more rubbery than asking. I remember working hard but not being able to catch Carl.

Carl got the great photo of him running by in the yearbook. Both of us cannot remember the times we ran but we do remember the order in which we finished.

I am not sure why that memory stuck with me. Maybe it was still how new running was to me and it was one of my first real defeats.

I found Carl on Facebook and we briefly chatted about the event. I think it meant more to me. I have kept running but Carl claims bad ankles, I encourage him to try running again. Maybe there will be a rematch.

Run on memories.

See you on the roads or in the blogosphere.

Do you have a running story to tell?

runningwriter@hotmail.com

You can also catch me on Twitter @NoelPaine or on my personal blog.