Sports > November 1, 2007

By James Burnett | Staff writer

The Press Box would first like to give a shout out to the Deacon men’s and women’s cross country teams who both finished seventh in their respective races at the ACC championships in Charlottesville this weekend.

Regionals are on the horizon and I have confidence in your collective abilities to finish strong. My own abilities, however, came into question last night at the AED 5k Halloween Run.

After humming “Eye of the Tiger” and the theme song from The Karate Kid all day, I showed up to the starting line with four of my buddies and an estimated 89 other amateur Deacon fun-runners.

Amongst the throng of racers were a Scooby Doo, a penguin, Quailman and a gaggle of spandex-clad joggers. Needless to say, the mood was light.

After an inspired speech, the race was underway. Two runners took off to the front of the pack, followed by myself, a 6-foot-tall Scooby and everyone who decided not to walk the course.

The early pace was blistering, as I discovered a quarter of a mile too late.

I was passed by more runners and a few cartoon characters after the first mile.

My friends also caught up with me as we formed a pack, drafting each other through the cold, dark night.

For those of you who have never been to the biology building or walked to campus from the Reynolda lot, the hill leading up to campus is steep.

Add on three years of inactivity and plenty of lactic acid, and that hill becomes more like Mount Everest. I was hoping for an oxygen tank and a Sherpa to carry me by the time I reached the top.

Also if you have never been passed by a guy dressed as a giant dog with a speech impediment, try it some time; it ranks somewhere between a kick below the belt and dropping your tray in the Pit.

Either way you look like an idiot. To make things worse, every sports-related injury I have ever sustained, including some I may have sustained in the first half of the race, began to act up.

Despite these setbacks, I continued my 3.1 mile trek. The last mile of the race began in a long stretch down to the end of Friendship Drive, which culminates in a loop. Suddenly a tie-dye blur flew past me going the opposite direction (I later realized this was the first place runner). I would like to thank the designers of the course for crushing my soul toward the end of the race. Racers at the back of the race got the distinct pleasure of seeing every runner that was struggling less than them glide past after reaching the end of the stretch.

Two of my friends had moved far ahead of me by this time, and the other two had disappeared to the rear, leaving me with Quailman.

As I passed him going into the last half mile, an epic battle of futility began to shape up. Sure enough, Doug Funny managed to pull out a win in the final 100 meters. Cartoon characters: 2. Me: 0.

Despite the pain and mental anguish, I finished my race in 23:25 (respectable for someone who makes life choices such as my own). I ran for a good cause, perhaps even my own health, and enjoyed it thoroughly.

When my friend Tom crossed the line last in our group, I asked him where he had been. “I had to make a stop in Carswell,” he said, steaming from the combination of body heat and the cold temperature.

Moral of the story, you can’t do these things in a real cross country race. So good luck Deacon Harriers, I envy you not.