I don’t run unless it involves a Cyndi Lauper meet-and-greet or a corn dog buffet. That’s why before signing up for the Memphis Farmer’s Market‘s Crop Hop 5K last Saturday at the downtown farmer’s market, I asked the enthusiastic volunteer, “Can I walk it?” When she promised me that there would be other walkers, I agreed to sign up for my very first 5K. Besides, I was signing Partner up, too, and if I got too tired, I just planned on climbing up on him and making him carry me the rest of the way. He didn’t know this, though.
On Friday, June 20th, Partner and I arrived at the downtown pavilion forty-five minutes before start time. My intention was to document each moment through photography and selfies; however, because Partner doesn’t like his picture taken, most of the photos below highlight the backs of strangers. If I didn’t already think Partner was such a Jew, I would swear he was a Mennonite. He is, however, neither a Jew nor a Mennonite. He’s just stingy with money and very, very shy.
As we approached the downtown pavilion, Partner and I were greeting by the music of a live band. The crowd was very eclectic, but one thing I failed to considered was how many cute guys would be participating. Yowzers. Partner and I ran into a couple of old acquaintances (Molly and James), and we exhausted our pre-“race” time pointing out and commenting on the eye candy. On a side note: I am officially a creepy old fart. Step one is admitting the problem.
Before the 5K, Partner takes a moment to check the air in his tires. I think he’ll spare me for posting this one since it doesn’t show his face (fingers crossed).
Not quite sure what the medals were for, but I doubt one was for Slowest Participant because I didn’t get one. I knew I should have snatched one when no one was looking (Partner wants me to say that stealing is bad; don’t steal, kids, and don’t steal kids).
The weather was fantastic for the event. Partner and I stood in the back of the start line with the elderly and other newbies because I figured the fewer people that passed us, the less stupid I would feel for doing this.
Close to the first mile marker, I saw a view that reminded me of one of the reasons why I love Memphis. This is the beautiful Riverside Drive. And those are the kids that walked faster than me. Little energetic bastards.
Even though Partner and I were close to last, we still crossed the finish line to the sound of cheers (weak, but a few volunteers were standing by to cheer). The rest of the participants were on the other side of the finish line either drinking a bottled water or a beer, and munching on the smorgasbord of chilled watermelon, bananas, pizza, and donuts. Don’t tell the other gays, but I had a slice of pizza. Augh, carbs.
Once we crossed the finish line together, I was grateful that I walked the course rather than ran. Walking allowed me to appreciate the beauty of Memphis. I even observed aspects of downtown that I never discovered before. And I did it all without even having to mount Partner on the way.