Running solo

As exciting as it is for the two of us to run together, we are not always able to make it work with our schedules. Last Thursday was the annual JPMorgan Corporate Challenge. This is a 3.5 mile road race through downtown Boston with 12,000 corporate runners. As team captain, I am forced to go.

As is quite typical, the weather was not on our side that day. It was literally 95 degrees and humid, and I was getting nervous about standing in a pack of sweaty runners, waiting for the starting bell. But, just as we walked out the door of the office for the long trek to the start line, the skies opened up. It did not just rain - it poured! Within a block of trudging along the wet streets with my motivated collegues at my sides, we were galloping over huge puddles. People put their "clean shirts" on their heads to stay dry, and those with umbrellas fought the harsh winds.

After walking for about 15 minutes, the rain stopped just as quickly as it had started. The sun again came out as if it was all a dream. Thanks to my (or should we say Nutter's) investment in quality shirts this year, we were lucky enough to dry off relatively quickly. The downpour was enough to cool the temperature to a comfortable 75 degrees. So, with the stress of extreme heat gone, we draped our wet jackets, backpacks, and umbrellas on a bench and headed for the start line.

Once we made it over to the chaotic area which I will call the "holding tank," we realized a huge problem - they shut down the gates into the holding tank and were yelling into horns that we should walk 1/4 mile further down to start at the end of the line.  Frustrated by this hurdle, a couple of my teammates and I eyed the tall, barbed fence.  Without giving it much thought, the smallest person lept up to the concrete platform and down to the other side of the gate.  Excited by her progress, I followed her and eased into the pack of already sweaty runners.
 
Once the race bell sounded, the true madness began.  I quickly tried to find a gap where I could run without too many runners breathing down my neck.  After jumping from left to right and passing runner after runner, I realized there would never be a gap.  The intense body heat once again raised the running temperature around 90 degrees, and I was forced to grab water at the makeshift tables to pour on my head for relief.  By the last mile, all I could think was "must finish!" I had lost all sense of speed, distance, and teammates as I sprinted to the broken ribbon.  Never have I been so happy to see the Frog Pond and our cheery intern, smiling and congratulating all of the runners.