March of Dimes Walk

Everything hinged on the weather.  I had been tracking it all week long to see what the forecast would be for today.  All of the weather people kept saying it was going to be cold and raining.  The only difference being what percent chance of rain.  I don't care what the cause is, there was no way I was going to walk in the rain.

We got fortunate and the weather folks were wrong.  It was considerably colder and windier than it should be for May; however, there were no signs of rain anywhere.  In fact, it was even sunny with blue skies.  So I was able to live up to my commitment and participate in the March of Dimes Walk this year.

I was serving a dual capacity at the event.  My former team at work was sponsoring employees to do the walk so I signed up.  It also turned out that the frat was making a donation of $500 to the March of Dimes and were walking as well.  Therefore, I was able to kill two birds with one stone.

The problem was I didn't realize until after I had already signed up exactly how long  the walk around Raccoon Lake was.  3.1 miles.  That's a nice little jaunt for a brotha who hasn't worked out in a while.  Even if all I was doing was walking it.

I got off on the wrong foot from the jump.  I couldn't find any workout pants or sweatpants to walk in so I had to go with some regular jeans.  I also didn't have a hat to combat the cold.  Good thing I hadn't cut my hair in a while.  That fuzz on top provided some relief from the elements.  Some.

That first mile came up before I knew it.  I got a chance to fellowship with bros I hadn't talked to in a while to help past the time.  The wind was trying its best to keep our pace down.  It was winning the battle against some of the walkers.  Not us though.

By the second mile, I had zoned out.  So much so that I had missed the little "Mile 2" marker sign.  The sweat beads were building up.  My legs were itching from the rubbing against the denim.  Our group of seven had started to splinter into those that could maintain a faster pace, those that were staying the course and those that were just trying to keep from passing out (namely me).

That last third point one mile seemed to be just as short as the first.  It was probably because with each step, I could see the end of the path.  I knew I would survive the strenuous walk in spite of the fact I was sucking wind most of the way. I had to make it if I was going to drop yet another photo album on everyone.  So the sore feet was worth it.  Sorta.