My time... 48 minutes. Slowest 5K I've ever run.
And I'm using the word "run" here very liberally.
So what was so good about this particular 5K?
I ran it with my 10 year old. Our first race together. His first race ever.
It didn't quite go as planned. He and his friend started toward the front. Waaaay toward the front. Like on the line.
Notice that no one is in front of these boys at the starting line.
This was his friend's idea.
His other idea was to blast off like a scalded cat at the gun.
My boy didn't like this idea, because he's not crazy.
So within a few yards, my boy found himself running alone, as hundreds of people, zoomed by him.
Being an experienced runner, and an even more experienced dad, I started behind the boys. And when I saw mine, on his own, looking up at every adult who passed him, I knew he was looking for me. He knew that I would be there for him. He knew I was the one running buddy who wouldn't ever drop him.
The boy was not the least bit happy. Can't blame him. A good running buddy doesn't leave you. At least not without you saying it's cool.
And sure, the boy took his anger out on me, is dorky dad, at first.
He did not want to run, even a little bit. "I'm a sprinter, not a distance runner!"
He wanted to walk. And just get it over with. Finish and go home.
Once he realized I was good with that plan, which was at about the half way mark, he decided it was ok to speak to me.
By the end, we were talking. And laughing. And running.
And then the little rat squirted out ahead of me in the last 30 yards. That's ok, I'm pretty sure I was finishing out of the money anyway.
My placing and my finish time don't matter one bit. It was who I finished with that made it the best 5K, ever.