I don’t run
Yesterday the whole family ran/walked the Crescent City Classic, a mostly flat 10K (6.2 miles) from the French Quarter to City Park. More than 19,500 people entered this year’s race.
Lined up on Decatur Street before the start. Cafe du Monde in the upper right hand corner.
My aunt and uncle joined the walkers, who usually dress up in costumes and drink and eat along the way. At the intersection of Esplanade and North Prieur, people gave away free beer to runners.
I’ve been “training” for the race since January, following a 10K guide. I’ve always hated running, so this was kind of a big deal for me. Ankle, foot and knee injuries aside, it was a positive experience.
My knee has been hurting for about a week (mild recurring tendinitis since high school softball), but I was sure two days off before the race would be enough rest. I was wrong. Around mile 4 I had to slow down, choosing hip pain over worsening the knee. But I didn’t stop.
The goal was to finish without walking, so I was happy. Also, my time (1:05) was considerably less than the only other two times I’ve run 6 miles. I shaved at least a minute off my mile pace.
The race was in New Orleans: It had to end with a party. Free jambalya, beer and music went on until the early afternoon when we packed it up, went home and passed out.