A number of years ago, I talked some of my friends into participating in an urban adventure race with me. The Denver Oyster is a fantastic event ~ lots of fun, great atmosphere, fantastic camaraderie ~ and I'm excited to be doing it again this year.
In addition to being a great race, it's also a fundraiser for the Make-A-Wish Foundation. My seven readers are invited to contribute toward our fund-raising ~ choose 'Denver' from the city drop-down menu, then choose 'Sunday Donut Crew' as the team name. The rest is pretty self-explanatory.
This event is called a 'race'. I have no illusions of winning anything besides maybe something in the drawing ... something that has nothing to do with skill or speed. But every event like this that I participate in ~ urban adventure races, triathlons, running races ~ I refer to as a race. It's not like I have the skill or youth or lifestyle to be able to have a chance of winning, so is it appropriate to call it a race? I think so, because it gives me a chance, every time I go out there, to challenge myself and to do better than I was able to do before. I'm racing less against the other competitors, and more against myself.
Of course this isn't a new concept ~ most personal trainers who work with ordinary people will say the same thing.
This adventure race, though, is going to force me to actually get back in shape. It's a team event, and I don't want to be the slow guy on the team (especially since I'll already be the old guy on the team). Plus, as I have discovered over a few years of doing triathlons, that the race is a lot more fun if the whole thing isn't a suffer-fest.