Perspectives on running a 10K

Perspective 1:

Not to brag, but I did run a 10K recently. That’s 5 kilometers double your local 5K fun run. An entire 1,000,000 centimeters or 6.2 miles putting it simply for the less educated on conversion metrics. In essentance, the feat of stagina is the same as running a triathlon or a marathon, obviously an incredible accomplishment. And not only did I finish, worthy of a pat on the back itself, I finished in under 73 minutes. For comparison, that's a world record time for the female, 90+ years and older division. Upon further reflection I am bragging - because wow - I am amazing.

I’m not saying I'm one of those people who find their value in accomplishment, but I am saying that it doesn’t count if no one knows about it. So, please go tell your friends and family that Jackson McKenzie ran a 10K. Life should be lived through reacting to other people’s experiences. I’ll conclude with a quote which encapsulates the sentiment. “It’s not living if it isn’t posted on Facebook. Grant, please edit out the blood.” - Abraham Lincoln, at the Battle of Gettysburg, 1863. 

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Perspective 2:

Having lived a privileged life, Left Ankle isn’t accustomed to pain. When he envisions walking a half mile in someone else’s shoes, he pictures navy blue loafers with arch-support insoles. Most days as a result of his cushy, seated desk job, Left Ankle works minimal hours, placing the burden of his shift of Buttocks. Building out his wardrobe, Left Ankle owns an overindulgent amount of wool socks, most of which were bought on a lofty Christmas premium. 

But today, the normal sunshine and rainbows have been replaced with a scorching heat which continues to rise. Unrelenting pangs wash over Left Ankle. He’s never felt this way before. What’s going on? Things aren’t right. Left Ankle looks at his watch. The thirty minute mark ticks by and the pain continues.

Worried, Left Ankle calls his best friend, Right Ankle, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you getting this? What’s with all this heat?”

On the other end of the line, Right Ankle is heard breathing heavily, almost a subtle gasp for air. “You didn’t get the news?”

Left Ankle doesn’t like the sound in his voice. “No. What’s going on.”

Right Ankle slowly replies, “Brain decided to run a 10K.”

A grave silence follows between the two of them. Left Ankle can’t believe this to be true. Brain wouldn’t decide to run 10K, especially given that the community had never undertaken such a distance before. The max they’d ever covered was 4 miles, but long ago, back in the cross-country glory days of a younger body. On top of the extreme distance, the community had recently recovered from a Covid mugging. Brain couldn’t put this community through more pain.

The forty minute mark ticked by and the heat continued. A growing pressure gradually smashes Left Ankle’s life forces; he knows Right Ankle is telling an unfortunate truth. Left Ankle hears an abnormal pop on the other end of the line. His friend is in pain. Left Ankle needs to contact Brain to order a ceasefire. The maniac needs to be stopped. 

Left Ankle dials in Right Knee and Left Knee, adding to the conference call of now four people. He says, “Friends, I assume you’re up to speed with the recent legislation from the capital. This is outrageous and needs to be stopped. Can I count on the two of you in our fight for freedom?”

Left Knee, who’s usually in an upbeat mood, responds, “Run and you'll live -- at least a while. And dying in your beds many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance, just one chance to come back here and tell our enemy that he may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom!!!”

Left Ankle said, “Thank you Left Knee for that plagiarism. I’m glad your spirits are elevated enough for such humor. Right Knee, can I count on you?”

Right Knee weases and huffs on the other end of the line, but doesn’t speak. Not able to walk straight, his movements are abnormal and harboring deep anguish. In the most dramatic sense, if the gauntlet doesn’t stop, he’s going to die.

The clock ticks 50 minutes. Left Ankle needs to take immediate action. He calls Left Hip and Right Hip, the two representatives for the Leg districts. In talking with them, the group learns that Brain doesn’t intend to stop. He’s going the distance; he’s going for speed. Neither of the Hips, both in good health and only mildly tired, seem overly concerned with the plan. They both grew up in the upper middle class and can’t relate to folks at the Bottom or below. 

It’s the end of the line for Left Ankle who doesn’t have a direct line to Brain. If he can’t convince Left Hip or Right Hip to take action, his neighborhood will perish. It’s been over 60 minutes now. The exhaustion keeps piling on. Left Ankle screams into the phone, “Get Brain to stop this now! Right Knee is in serious pain. I think he’s gone numb. Do you hear Right Ankle and that awful popping noise? You’re our only hope. Help us!”

Left Hip and Right Hip, maybe tiring of hearing the complaints, concede to Left Ankle’s request. They dial in Brain to the conference call. When Brain joins the line, the sound of a TV is heard in the background. PGA tour golf. Brain says, “Hello, who is this?”

Left Ankle takes a deep breathe, tired from the running himself, and says, “Hello Mr. Brain, sir, this is Left Ankle. We’ve met once before, back in 6th grade when the community fell into a gopher hole during camp. You visited me during my recovery. Anyways… you need to call off this 10K. It’s killing the lower class folks here in the Leg districts.”

Brain responds, “Hey, I remember you. You shut down the whole economy for a few days during the gopher hole debacle. You caught my attention for a bit.”

Left Ankle says, “So you’ll help? Stop the heat.”

Brain says, “Absolutely not. I don’t negotiate with terrorists. Look, I want this. It’s on my bucket list. I’m sorry you and your buddies are struggling to keep up, but this is just the beginning. Get used to run mode because we’re training for a 10K in under 60 minutes.”

Brain hangs up. As the clock strikes 70 minutes, Left Ankle is left contemplating the gravity of the situation. In essence, Brain has declared war on the Legs. Left Ankle doesn’t know if his neighborhood will survive, but he knows dark days are ahead. 

Finally, the race stops, the tourture ends. The body slumps down in a waiting room chair at the front of the gym. It’s the beginning of recovery. But also, the beginning of the resistance. If Brain can go rogue, so can Left Ankle. He will fight for his community. He will fight for his people. ¡Vive les jambes!

[Fade to black]

[Insert cool credits music here]

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Perspective 3:

Recently I ran a 10K. It’s always been one of my bucket list items and I’d like to do it in less than an hour. If Miami Lebron is any indicator, I’ve got until 29 until I reach my peak athleticism. Obviously a few ticks left on the clock, but earlier is better than later. We’ll see how it goes. 

After finishing, my right knee was in a lot of pain. It’s probably because I went from not running at all, directly into a 10K. However, totally changing directions, the 10K wasn’t the highlight of the day. For the first time in my life, I went to a Hibachi restaurant. When Maddie was explaining the concept to me I was very confused.

Jackson: “So they throw shrimp at the customers?”

Maddie: “Yeah, you catch it in your mouth.”

Jackson: “I mean, what if you miss?”

Maddie: “They never miss.”

Jackson: “Is there just shrimp scattered throughout the restaurant floor?”

Maddie: “They also have onion volcanoes and columns of fire to cook the food.”

Jackson: “Can I throw the shrimp back? It's like dodgeball?”

Maddie: “We have to get the fried rice, it’s amazing.”

Jackson: “Ok, volcanoes, fire, and dodgeball, it’s like an obstacle course or an escape room.”

Maddie: “I think you’re missing the bigger picture.”

Jackson: “I’m very confused about the logistics of this business.

We went to the Hibachi restaurant and it blew past my expectations. We got to eat really nice food, as opposed to just throwing it. The comical chef treated us to dinner and a show. The theme of the show was butter. Highly recommend Hibachi for anyone who hasn’t gone before.

Here’s a relevant, historically inaccurate quote on Hibachi: “With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us go celebrate at Hibachi. Saki on me.” - Abraham Lincoln, second inaugural address, 1865.