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The Bandit Racer

For years I've "competed" in races.  I'm using quotations around "compete" because I give no one competition.  I'm more of a jogger, kind of listening to my music and blocking out the world around me.  I've given up wearing electronics that show me what my pace is, and I no longer time my runs.

I found all of this training to run faster was zapping me of my love for running.  Why do I have to run fast?  I just want a good sweat and some mental clarity.

These can be achieved at a nine minute mile pace. 

This past weekend was another race my family decided to sign up for.  We already ran a 5 miler in July, and we had discussed participating in the 5K (3.1 miles) this weekend.  At first I was going to sign up my whole clan again (all of us except my 4 year old), but it was $30/person.

Which quickly translated to $150 for my family to not win anything and burn some calories.  I decided the girls would sit this race out.  My daughter practices gymnastics 15 hours a week, and I didn't need to pay $30 to get some exercise.

And then it hit me.  I didn't need to pay $30 to get some exercise.

I decided to go at it "bandit" style.

Now, because I am a "rule follower" and I'm always on the tail end of getting the joke, I've never done this.  I've never even contemplated it.  I didn't even know there was "name" for it.  But Saturday, with no official racing bib, I got right in there alongside my sister.

I jogged my little heart out, in the back of the pack with all the other casual racers.   Before all the serious racers get their panties in a twist about my "bandit" scheme, I did pay $90 for my three boys to run for real.  And all they got was a tee shirt because only the top 300 runners got the cool Adidas bag.

Kudos to my brother, who is as handsome as he is fit, and he went home with a black and neon green Adidas bag. 

I don't think I'll ever run "bandit" again, because I do love to take part in racing events and support their charities and organizations.  But Saturday, I was a racing rebel.

Who ever knew I had it in me.

Cheers!
For years I've "competed" in races.  I'm using quotations around "compete" because I give no one competition.  I'm more of a jogger, kind of listening to my music and blocking out the world around me.  I've given up wearing electronics that show me what my pace is, and I no longer time my runs.

I found all of this training to run faster was zapping me of my love for running.  Why do I have to run fast?  I just want a good sweat and some mental clarity.

These can be achieved at a nine minute mile pace. 

This past weekend was another race my family decided to sign up for.  We already ran a 5 miler in July, and we had discussed participating in the 5K (3.1 miles) this weekend.  At first I was going to sign up my whole clan again (all of us except my 4 year old), but it was $30/person.

Which quickly translated to $150 for my family to not win anything and burn some calories.  I decided the girls would sit this race out.  My daughter practices gymnastics 15 hours a week, and I didn't need to pay $30 to get some exercise.

And then it hit me.  I didn't need to pay $30 to get some exercise.

I decided to go at it "bandit" style.

Now, because I am a "rule follower" and I'm always on the tail end of getting the joke, I've never done this.  I've never even contemplated it.  I didn't even know there was "name" for it.  But Saturday, with no official racing bib, I got right in there alongside my sister.

I jogged my little heart out, in the back of the pack with all the other casual racers.   Before all the serious racers get their panties in a twist about my "bandit" scheme, I did pay $90 for my three boys to run for real.  And all they got was a tee shirt because only the top 300 runners got the cool Adidas bag.

Kudos to my brother, who is as handsome as he is fit, and he went home with a black and neon green Adidas bag. 

I don't think I'll ever run "bandit" again, because I do love to take part in racing events and support their charities and organizations.  But Saturday, I was a racing rebel.

Who ever knew I had it in me.

Cheers!

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