Mistaken age dashes hope for trophy
Brady C. Mallory
Issue date: 11/19/08 Section: Opinion & Editorial
Does anyone else ever feel like some deity - God, Allah, Buddha or Oprah - is messing with you? That is the best way to describe how I felt a few Saturdays ago when I participated in a 5K run. The handful of people who know me can attest that within the last year I have been a fitness enthusiast and spend many nights at the weight room to lift or jog. However, I was not always the picture of physical perfection.
I am the only son of three children, and for much of my life my father encouraged/forced me to participate in every sport under the sun. The longest sport I was involved with was soccer, which is why I have the muscular thighs of a gladiator, or Madonna.
Before boasting my current muscular physique, I was the kid with braces, really long hair and holding on to a few extra pounds commonly referred to as "baby fat." I was the kid who tried shooting a basket during the big game, only to have it ricochet from that backboard, thus careening out of control into the face of a teammate. During cross country, I was the kid who threw up right in front of the prettiest, fastest girl on the team after a short half mile warm-up run. In short, I was a huge embarrassment who continually besmirched the legendary reputations of my two obnoxiously athletic sisters, Kara and Jayme.
During my sophomore year of high school, I began to run and lift weights. During my junior year at SDSU, I developed a weight lifting routine that I have been very faithful to, barring late night Ben & Jerry's trips. It should come to the bewilderment of nobody that I am proud of being faster and stronger and spend 45 minutes a day staring at myself in the mirror flexing.
This year, I was ready for my second 5K and excited to best my previous running times. 1,118 people were all out in the brisk air ready to pulverize their competition in order to feel five minutes of superiority. Or, at least I was. We took our places and waited to spring into action. As the announcer gave us the signal, present surroundings moved in slow motion. With the hard concrete beneath my tightly tied Nike athletic shoes, I noticed the fall leaves hanging delicately from a yonder oak, and despised everyone there for constantly invading my personal space.
I am the only son of three children, and for much of my life my father encouraged/forced me to participate in every sport under the sun. The longest sport I was involved with was soccer, which is why I have the muscular thighs of a gladiator, or Madonna.
Before boasting my current muscular physique, I was the kid with braces, really long hair and holding on to a few extra pounds commonly referred to as "baby fat." I was the kid who tried shooting a basket during the big game, only to have it ricochet from that backboard, thus careening out of control into the face of a teammate. During cross country, I was the kid who threw up right in front of the prettiest, fastest girl on the team after a short half mile warm-up run. In short, I was a huge embarrassment who continually besmirched the legendary reputations of my two obnoxiously athletic sisters, Kara and Jayme.
During my sophomore year of high school, I began to run and lift weights. During my junior year at SDSU, I developed a weight lifting routine that I have been very faithful to, barring late night Ben & Jerry's trips. It should come to the bewilderment of nobody that I am proud of being faster and stronger and spend 45 minutes a day staring at myself in the mirror flexing.
This year, I was ready for my second 5K and excited to best my previous running times. 1,118 people were all out in the brisk air ready to pulverize their competition in order to feel five minutes of superiority. Or, at least I was. We took our places and waited to spring into action. As the announcer gave us the signal, present surroundings moved in slow motion. With the hard concrete beneath my tightly tied Nike athletic shoes, I noticed the fall leaves hanging delicately from a yonder oak, and despised everyone there for constantly invading my personal space.
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