Earlier this summer, my dad decided that we should get one more state. Apparently Utah and Wyoming weren’t enough for one summer. I did some searching and found a race that was right over the border from Wisconsin in Michigan. Beer Geek wasn’t with us, so we had to be a little creative so that we could all get a race in.
We borrowed a BOB running stroller (Wow, wish they’d been around when Jones was a baby!) and loaded everyone up in the van. Plan was for my dad and I to run the 10k while pushing Shoo in the stroller and my mom would walk with Jones and my nephew. After a fun day at the beach on Lake Michigan and a dinner out at a brewpub, we arrived at the race ready to go. Except for one thing.
Air in the tires.
Yep, the stroller’s tires were flat. Luckily, it was a small local race and a lot of runners had arrived via bicycle. I looked for the nicest, most “tri” looking one and sure enough, it had a pump on it. We borrowed the pump and got the tires at least sort of pumped up. (I did find the owner of the bike after the race and thanked him. In true midwest fashion, he was glad he had been able to help us out.)
Then my dad tried to kill me. We ran the first mile in 9:22. Yeah. Not quite “where I am” these days. I was dying, but I made myself stick with him for the first five miles. He went ahead at that point and finished in 58:54. I kept plugging along and managed my first sub-one hour 10k since my injury.
Post-injury PR of 59:46 AND my longest race to date in the Vibrams. (My dad got third in his age group! While pushing a 5 year old in a stroller with slightly flat tires!)