Jujutsu and Running: A winning combination

My two loves as far as physical activity is concerned are Jujutsu and running. I do both to some extent at least two or three times a week.

Last night I received my certificate from Sensei for passing 9th Kyu. I immediately photocopied it, stuck the photocopy in my binder with the copies of my race reports and running bibs, and put the original in a frame. I intend to do this with every certificate I own. And then my binder will be a source of inspiration for me. A way to remember my physical accomplishments. When you come from a point where you were morbidly obese and could hardly walk, this is a big deal.

I also sent out Keith and my registration for the next 5K in June. I hope to come in at 35 minutes or less, but even if I don't, I intend to run the entire race, which has been my goal for every 2M or 5K run I've done.

Keith and I have settled into a ritual for our races. We pretty much end up running late but manage to get there in plenty of time anyway, find parking not terribly close to the place where we pick up our packets, and then Keith takes our packets (usually a t-shirt and goodie bag) back to the truck while I meander around, checking the other runners out.

Then we head to the starting line, where the other racers are congregating. I've already learned that bringing my iPod along is pointless because 1) headphones aren't generally allowed at sanctioned races, and 2) it has become a time for Keith and I to bond.

Then I typically see all these super fit (and some who aren't so fit) people, and ask Keith, "Why did I sign us up for this?" This is sort of a private joke between us, because normally I'm the motivator, the one who's all gung-ho and telling Keith, WEEKS before the 5K, how much fun it's going to be.

Keith's response is usually, "I don't know." Yes, come race day, he is just *full* of inspiration.

So then I start asking Keith if I'm bigger or smaller than some other women I spot in the crowd. Because I tend to be insecure, and still don't have an accurate mental picture of what I look like, given how quickly I've lost a lot of weight.

When it's getting close to the time the gun is going to go off, Keith and I wander to the back of the pack, because we know we'll probably be staying there for the duration of the race. When the gun goes off, it's exciting and kind of boring all at the same time. There's that surge of adrenaline, but it's tempered by the fact that there are about 300 people in front of you, so it takes several seconds to get to the point where you're actually moving or running.

But then we're off, and most people end up waaaaay ahead of us. To our credit, we normally pass a good amount of people as well, especially later in the race. If there is one thing I'm phenomenal at in running, it's setting a pace that I can maintain for the entire race. In fact, it's almost eerie how every one of my miles is almost the same, down to the second. And I make sure to keep Keith on pace with me.

So Keith and I jog along, sometimes talking, sometimes just breathing. There are always a few points at which we both want to stop and walk, but we never do. Our goal is to run the entire race, even if we are dead last (which we've never even been close to). Along the way Keith will offer to sing jodies, which are basically those military cadences you hear soldiers sometime chant or sing as they run or march.

Keith knows several from ROTC, but there is one I like the best. It goes like this:

C-130 running down the strip
Airborne ranger on a one way trip
Mission top secret, destination unknown
Don't even know if I'm going home
Stand-up, hook-up, shuffle to the door
Jump right out and count to four
If my main don't open wide
I got a reserve by my side
If that one should fail me too
Look out below I'm comin' through
If I die on the old drop zone
Then box me up and send me home
Pin my jump wings on my chest
Tell my mama I done my best

Now, the first time Keith sang this to me, many years ago, I totally misheard the lyrics and thought one of the lines was, "Look out below, I'm coming for you." Maybe it's because I tend to be an aggressive person. Or maybe I just hear what I want to hear.

So now Keith, during our 5Ks, always adapts the jodie to use that line. And even though we're DYING, panting and wanting to keel over from exhaustion, we both look at each other and smile, because for some reason to us, it's funny. We have some bonds that no one else in the world can even possibly get or understand.

Keith and I also tend to keep each other going. When one of us says we want to slow to a walk, the other pushes to keep going. However, we BOTH usually bitch about Mile 2, and how long it takes to get there. Because the first mile is easy, the last mile isn't bad, but that middle mile feels forever.

And then, when we finally get past that Mile 3 marker, we sprint to the finish. Regardless of our time, as soon as we pass that Finish line, we high-five each other. In fact, we do it several times, because 1) we're so happy it's over, and 2) we usually beat our previous time with every subsequent race we do.

If something ever happens to Keith, I don't know if I could keep running. It just wouldn't be the same without him.