On your mark!
Get set!
Go!
WE WERE OFF!
Kind of.
Ok, not really.
Way at the back of the pack we heard the start signal but were standing quite still. It took a bit of time for the front of the pack to thin out enough for the masses in the back to begin their start forward. But slowly and surely (as would seem to be the theme for this race) we began to move and thin out, creating breathing space between us. Somewhere between a minute and a half and two minutes had passed by the time I made my way over the starting line.
It was amazing. Cast members and volunteers and supporters were standing along the start of the race route cheering and taking pictures and video with their phones and cameras. It was hard not to smile. I wondered how many times I was memorialized in someone else's albums, scrapbooks and home videos. People were walking in stride with me. Others had picked up the pace or broken into a jog and still others, many others I was relieved to see, were walking behind me.
Then, it happened. I had just looked down at my watch to track my time. Quite suddenly my feet were moving faster than I'd ever intended.
I. WAS. JOGGING.
I felt as if I'd been possessed by some other person. A runner. Because this couldn't possibly be me...could it?! For a second I mused if perhaps soemone had slipped something in my yogurt. I don't jog. I'm a walker. WHAT in the good Lord's name was going on here? I mean I'm going to...wait a tic. This jogging thing...it didn't really feel...bad. Instinctively I knew I wouldn't be jogging the whole thing. I hadn't trained for it and I had a week of park touring ahead of me. Attempting to jog 3.1 miles for the very first time wouldn't be prudent. I decided, though, to go with it until it started to feel a little bit less than too tough. Then I'd slip back into my walking pace and maybe pepper in some more running.
Now that I'd gotten over the surprise that I could propel my body at a faster pace than anticpated, I began to look around me.
It was my first Disney 5K!
It was EPCOT!
It was...a whole lot of parking lot.
The first part of the course, roughly 2/3 to 3/4 of a mile or so, took place through some of the EPCOT parking lots, both guest lots and Cast Member lots, I think. At first I thought it was a little disappointing. Sure, it made for a nice, flat surface to run/walk, and there was plenty of room for everyone, but well the scenery was...asphalt-y. I'd promised myself, however, that I wouldn't get myself down at any point in the race. I would be my own champion. I would finish. So, instead, I looked forward to the next part of the course that would curve into some of the backstage areas on the Test Track side of Future World.
It was also about this time that I got the idea to pick someone who I seemed to be in pace with and keep an eye on them. If I started to go faster, I'd find another person to pace. Ditto if I started going slower. But no matter what I'd always be walking "with" someone.
In this first part of the race I probably ran a total of 5 minutes or so, split up by a bit of walking. I stopped when I started to feel a small stitch (NOExperiment626) in my side and when the fire in my calves began to peak. Five minutes may not sound like a lot but for someone who is anything BUT a runner, this was huge. I was already proud of myself. I thought of Maria running ahead of me and pictured that glorious moment of meeting her at the finish line in a big ol' (sweaty) bear hug.
Just as we began to enter the backstage area by Test Track, we started to pass some more interesting scenery. To our left was an abandoned DHS (R.I.P. MGM) Backstage Tour tram. I'm not sure what it was doing at Epcot but it had obviously been there for some time, covered in a light sheen of what looked like pond scum...sans the pond. On our right was a long line of port-a-potties. Even if nature had been a'callin' I was still too nervous to stop and fall behind. Also, I have a bit of a port-a-potty phobia but we won't go there. I ran-walked on.
As we came around a bend I could hear clapping. And yelling, And see lots of people standing on the side of the course with extremely swollen hands...then I realized they were waving cutouts of Mickey's white-gloved hand and cheering us on.
"You're doing great!"
"Keep it up!"
"You've almost got one mile down!"
Now, I walk a whole lot. And I love it. And I generally know what a mile feels like and how long it takes me at a slow (about 3.0/mph) pace. And when I wasn't jogging, I was definitely walking faster than a leisurely pace (I'd guestimate between a 16 and 17 min. mile pace). But I kind of felt shocked that we weren't already AT one mile. I had a little niggling of worry. I was a tad tired and sweaty and a bit hot. What would I feel like by Mile Two? Would I SEE Mile Two?! Were those 5 minutes of jogging a foolish decision?
You know, let me break here for a minute to say that we humans are a little arrogant sometimes. We think we know exactly how we're going to do things, when we're going to do things, and that everything is going to happen exactly how we need and want it to. Then the carpet gets pulled out from under us and we're humbled into remembering that whatever our faith or creed, we aren't in control and there is some other force out there they knows EXACTLY what we need and when we need it.
I was approaching the One Mile marker. Nearby there was also a large digital clock ticking away how many minutes into the race we were. I was flagging just a tiny bit. I wasn't listening to my body. It was telling me to slow down and recover for a minute or two and then pick up the pace again. If I had been listening I wouldn't have been ready to have a panic attack thinking about having to keep up the pace for another 2.1 miles. I would've known just to slow it up for a bit.
Then LIFE intervened.
My eyes caught on a small trio in front of me. An older, heavyset woman, limp-walking and looking like she wanted to fall over, a middle-aged woman, holding the woman's elbow and walking beside her, and a young girl, about 12, walking backwards in front of the two older women, filming them. I could tell the older woman was struggling. Badly. I slowed down so that I would soon match their pace, wanting to assist in getting her to help if she needed it. But as I did I heard this:
"Mom, we're going to do this. YOU are going to do this. I know you can. You are going to be able to get through every mile. And I'm going to be here right by your side every step of the way. Take a sip of water, Mom. You're amazing. You're doing a great job. Look, we just did ONE MILE! You're going to do this mom. We're going to do it together and then? Then you don't have to do another thing on this vacation if you don't want to."
I'm paraphrasing some, and some of the order is mixed up, but this is one of my most vivid memories from this race. I don't know why this woman was doing the race with her daughter and granddaughter. Maybe she didn't know what she was getting into. Maybe she knew EXACTLY what she was getting into. But there she was, with her cheerleaders, pushing through it. It actually brought tears to my eyes.
As I passed them, right at the mile marker, I touched her other elbow and said softly, "You can do it."
She looked at me with an expression of exhaustion and thanks. The daughter smiled at me and nodded. "See Mom?" The granddaughter smiled over the top of the camera.
I walked on. One more time, out loud, to myself I said, "You can do it."
UP NEXT: Mile Two or The One with the Pee
BUT I know I will get there someday.
I won't lie, I'm tempted to PM you for details on who you're renting points from for my Super Secret 2012 trip but, well, I'm REALLY committed to my resort choice and it's not DVC (though it is a mod I think you'd appreciate! 
)
