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A friend of mine has been after me for years to do this fun run.  Starting at 9:00pm, you run 5k through the night city, winding up at Bastille Days, the city’s celebration of all things French.  One thing or another (heck, sometimes one thing AND another simultaneously) conspired to keep me away until this year.  I almost didn’t believe it when nothing momentous popped up to stop me.  With wary surprise, I laced up my shoes and wandered down to Milwaukee’s fashionable East Side not too long before nightfall.

I met up with a couple of my friends.  And a couple of their friends.  And a couple of the friend’s friends too, I think.  The crush of people at the starting line was something else, though I do have to give credit where credit is due: Milwaukeeans are a very friendly crowd!  I never heard the starting gun, if there was one.  The crowd shuffled forward a bit, then began to walk, and finally started a slow jog as the pack began to break up.  My more athletic buddy bounded along gamely with me for the first mile or two before starting to get all motivated on me.

“What do you say we pick up the pace a little?” he volunteered.

“Nope.”  I was steadfast.  I have a pace.  I’m a one speed kinda gal.  I can go forever if you don’t mess with my pace.  Change it?  I don’t think so.

“A little?” he tried again.

“Uh, uh.”

“Don’t you want to stretch your stride a bit?” he wheedled patiently.  I did not.  I allowed him to go boinging off into the sunset without me.  My other friend kept a more conservative pace than I and I’d lost track of her early in the game, so I arrived at the finish line all by my lonesome, which was just fine by me.  After the longer distance training I’d been so focused on this year, the 5K had flown by.   I was just warming up when it was over.  Hmm.  Maybe it’s time to try out a new pace after all. ~DG

Storm the Bastille, Milwaukee 2009