This morning I am heading off to run my first-ever 12K race: the Lake Run 12K in Lake Oswego, Oregon.
It’s a hilly course, I hear, one that winds around the man-made, privately-owned, cleverly-named Oswego Lake. I’ve run in this event in the past, but in the 5K only; the last year I ran it was in 2006.
My friend Ken will be running in the 5K; Kevin was supposed to run in the 5K as well, and even signed up for it, but has had some oral surgery this week, is on drugs, and didn’t want to risk it, whatever “it” may be.
Having never run a 12K before, I have no idea what to expect. I think I’m well-prepared; I had my 11-mile run last weekend; I’ve been tapering this week, and have been just working out with weights instead of running the past two days. When I got up this morning, I drank some coffee, and had an energy bar; I plan on drinking whatever water is available to me on the course and I’m bringing at least one gel pack.
The weather should be awesome for this race; temperatures in the upper 40° or lower 50° F and clear skies.
Afterward we three are going to eat a giant breakfast, then us and some others (including Tracy and my girlfriend, Lindsey) are going to go see “Star Trek” on a digital projection screen in Clackamas. Because nothing is better after a hard race than consuming lots of greasy food and then sitting down for hours. And by “better” I mean “not really better” but certainly also “more fun”.