It’s 8:57am on Thanksgiving morning, and I’m standing with a crowd of men, women and children — most of whom are over or underdressed — at the starting line of the Upper Saddle River 5k, a local race organized about 20 minutes from my hometown in New Jersey. Some are taking selfies and smiling, while others are shivering in their singlets and talking race strategy with whomever will listen.

There are two taller men in the front of the line — one is wearing an Ironman hat; the other dons a Dunkin Donuts beanie symbolic of the New York City Marathon. Earlier this morning, I watched a trio of middle-aged women wearing seasonally-appropriate hats shaped like turkey legs waiting in line for the bathroom. There are also tons of kids in front of me, whom I know will start the race sprinting and eventually slow to a walk because they do not understand pacing at all.

Every time I enter a race distance shorter than a half marathon, I find myself in awe of the two extreme personality types short distance races attract. There’s the blatantly, non-apologetic fun runners who may or may not be dressed in costume, and then there’s the super-serious, I’m-going-to-win-this-thing racers. I usually teeter somewhere between the two, hoping to have a good race and place in my age group without getting so wrapped up in the course or the idea of fast running that I spit on a neighboring runner (oh yeah, that happened to me!). Continue reading “When A 5k Is So Much More Than 3.1 Miles” →