Colon Cancer Challenge

What compels a man to run 15K (9.3 miles) in the 32-degree starkness of a March Sunday morning? Is it the search for self? The spirit of competition? Love for his colon and others (and their colons too)?

Likely none of those. Sheer boredom. The worst explanation for running anywhere since Forrest Gump (whose stunt double in the running scenes in the movie I recently learned was his own brother Jim. This is the kind of boredom I am referring to).

9.3 miles in 1:23:53. I think this was median finish time for women in their late 40s.

Goaded by friends who recently finished the Austin half-marathon (yes, that's 13 miles), I ambitiously signed up, trained as best I could, and took on the 15K. My iPod died during the second mile (for the second straight marathon: see November's ill-fated Turkey Trot).

However, my goal was to finish in under 90 minutes and as I was turning round the last bend to the final 50 yards, I heard a voice on the loudspeaker say: We're at 1:29:30, if you want to finish under 1:30 you better DIG DEEEEEP!

This is apparently something that people who run distance events actually say.

So I sprinted the last bit (Chariots of Fire...or Colons of Fire style), crossed the finish line, doubled over and would have thrown up if I had anything left in my stomach. Then they subtracted the six minutes from my time because I hadn't started in the front with the real runners.

Name | Sex/Age | Bib | Overall Place | Gender Place | Age Place | Finish Time | Pace/Mile
Chandler M26 829 1872 1246 249 1:23:53 9:01

I could reformat my stats to fit, but I am wayyyy too lazy for that.

In hindsight, the fact that I donned my Super Duper Weenie T-shirt (with this logo on the back) might have been insensitive to Colon Cancer sufferers.

What is the right word for how I look here? Pallid? Ashen? Sallow? Bloodless? Gay? Pasty?

I've now been limping for nearly two weeks. Seriously. I can't run. My knee is still swollen.