Two Aprils ago, I spent a couple weeks in Biloxi and New Orleans volunteering for Habitat for Humanity to celebrate my 30th birthday. Besides the good times I had on that trip - the Habitat work, meeting a lot of cool people, flying down to Florida to see my sister, meeting up with friends from Texas in Shreveport - it's what initially got my mind thinking about applying for a VISTA assignment. And now, long story short, I'm on the Rosebud.
Like many trips I took while living in Juneau, I searched for races in the area while down in the Lower 48. For me, running, whether in a race or just for the sake of running itself, is a good way to explore new territory. I found the Gulf Coast Classic, a 10K at the Naval Construction Battalion Center in Gulfport.
The race was supposed to start at 8:00 a.m.; however, it was delayed because the elite runners had yet to arrive. At the time, I didn't know what "elite" meant exactly. After about 10 minutes, the director decided not to wait any longer, and the race began.
A slew of runners started really fast, but since I usually take awhile to get into my rhythm, I just let them go. Gradually though, I picked off runners one by one, which is always a good feeling.
Even with the humidity, I felt great throughout the race, although I was sweating like a pig. If you've ever seen me after a race, you know I'm quite the sweater as it is. It's not uncommon to find salty, dried sweat from above my eyebrows down to my temples. Throw in my god-awful stench, and I'm a hot mess. Add some humidity, and my ripeness increases exponentially.
About halfway through, two of the elite runners passed me - Kenyans! Evidently, they train in Mobile and decided to stop over for the race. They had issues getting to the starting line because they weren't allowed past security at the base's front gate.
I always keep a little extra energy in reserve for the final push to the finish line. As I was about to kick my pace up a notch over the last quarter mile, the third Kenyan passed me. He had a similar plan and was flying. Well, I decided to try to keep up with him. And although I wasn't able to get back in front of him, I did my best to keep up. The fact that his time was already far superior to mine because he started about nine minutes late didn't matter one bit.
About halfway through, two of the elite runners passed me - Kenyans! Evidently, they train in Mobile and decided to stop over for the race. They had issues getting to the starting line because they weren't allowed past security at the base's front gate.
I always keep a little extra energy in reserve for the final push to the finish line. As I was about to kick my pace up a notch over the last quarter mile, the third Kenyan passed me. He had a similar plan and was flying. Well, I decided to try to keep up with him. And although I wasn't able to get back in front of him, I did my best to keep up. The fact that his time was already far superior to mine because he started about nine minutes late didn't matter one bit.
Even though the sprint lasted no more than a minute, it turned out to be one of my greatest running highlights. How often can one say they sprinted with a Kenyan?
After crossing the finish line just behind Kenyan #3, I headed over to the board with the finishers' times. I ended up with a time of 45:16 - not my best, for sure. But I blame the soupy air. I looked for runners in my age group to see if I had placed. I saw at least three folks with better times, which meant no trophy for me. I stuck around for the award ceremony anyway.
After crossing the finish line just behind Kenyan #3, I headed over to the board with the finishers' times. I ended up with a time of 45:16 - not my best, for sure. But I blame the soupy air. I looked for runners in my age group to see if I had placed. I saw at least three folks with better times, which meant no trophy for me. I stuck around for the award ceremony anyway.
Not surprisingly, the three Kenyans picked up the top three spots, and then the age group winners were announced. When it came time for the third place male in the 30-34 category (my new age group as of a week and a half prior), the director announced, "Brian Largent from Alabama." I thought to myself, "Hmmm... I think that might be me." I headed over to check out the name on his piece of paper and it was indeed me. Don't ask me how he got Alabama from Alaska. But I got a trophy after all. And a pretty good story.
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