Lake Eola Run

It took me three laps of Lake Eola to realize there was no free parking. Shows me better than to trust the Internet. After stopping in a grocery store, paying three dollars for a one dollar drink to obtain change, and one more lap of the park before I found a spot by this time I was already ten minutes late for the meet up time that I had set. And of course I was the last to arrive. I spotted the group right away. There was Jorge, a friend from work who insists his name is pronounced "George" Chris, who I had met through my boyfriend; and Brian, who I knew through my father and who had brought Lytle, a friend from work. Somehow these four people, who had never met, had never even spoken online, whose only connection to each other was me, managed to figure out they were all waiting around on that very same person.

"Finally!" Jorge exclaimed as I ran up to them. Brian joined in "Yeah, way to be late to your own party!"

"Hey there's a reason I have parties at my house. Can't be late to your own living room." I bent over to tie my shoes and quickly stretch out as we made our game plan. One lap all together around the path tracing just outside the boundaries of the park. The sun hung just high enough in the sky to keep us warm, and the wind was just swift enough to keep us cool. There was not a cloud in the sky but the ample trees and the tall buildings that surround Lake Eola park were enough to give plenty of shade throughout the course. This azure gem at the center of Orlando's buzzing downtown was the absolute perfect setting for the first run of the Orlando Run and Glug Club.

Okay maybe club is a little too serious of a word but Alcoholic Athletes Facebook Group just doesn't have the same ring to it. But that's what we are. As it stands right now the club consists of my friends and a few of their friends, we get together once a week, run, and cool down at the nearest bar. No we're not hashers, not that there's anything wrong with that...

As tradition would have it, my iPod crashed the moment we started running. What is the point of running if you don't have the data to prove you have done it? But there was no turning back now. The narrow sidewalk and varying paces quickly formed the pack. The experienced runners, Lytle and Brian, took the front and Chris and Jorge, the beginners, brought up the rear. I ended up falling to the middle and somehow managed to hold a conversation between the front and the back. We stuck together and held a solid pace for the first lap. The park was alive with activities all around; people everywhere, though it never felt crowded. The population at the lake was incredibly diverse, made up of families, young couples, other runners, and even a large group of hipsters feeding the homeless. I'm not sure if one man had been homeless or a hipster but he felt the need to cheer us on as we ran past. At one point a young college student, of Asian descent, claimed a spot on the scenic pier to start playing bagpipes. I'm not sure why he had a tip case set out but our pace time always improved when we ran past.

As we came around to the last turn before the Amphitheater, Brian suggested a quick interval to finish out the lap. Feeling good still, we were all in. As we rounded the corner, Brian, Lytle,and Jorge all quickened their stride. Chris, however, double his pace and soon took the lead. Having held back the whole lap, I couldn't resist the urge to showboat. I broke out into a burst sprint, quickly over taking the whole group to come up even with the Chris.

"Oh so you want to go real fast, huh?"

"Uuuugghh no!" he moaned as I comfortably doubled the distance between us.

He later explained that, in his infinite genius, he planned to get far enough ahead of us that when it was time to slow down again he'd have plenty of time to recover as we caught up. This, of course, did nothing but leave him to strain for the second lap. Despite our pace evening out and the group reformed by the time it was time to start the second lap. We kept together for a while but fatigue was starting to show in the novices. Brian and Lytle went on at their pace and I proceeded to quite literally run circles around the boys. The rest of the run we kept up a mildly strenuous pace with slight intervals. It's amazing how much further you can go when you break up a distance into small chunks. 3 miles is a ridiculous amount to run, but five minutes at a hard pace and then five to catch your breath then repeat and you suddenly forget how many times you passed that game of hackey sack. It helped that we were never passed by the speed twins. Okay so maybe a 5-6min km isn't break neck but it can be a morale killer when you're first starting.

Suddenly we where coming up on the last leg of the last lap. Once last rest interval for the boys before putting it all out to cross the finish line. I decided to get in a little extra mileage by cutting back and on to the inner path that winded around the lake then meeting back with them at the last corner. I was quite surprised to see they were ahead of me when I merged back to the sidewalk. I wasn't far behind, coming up on them quick and we regrouped right as we rounded the corner. "Show your stuff, boys!" I shouted over my shoulder as I sprinted past them. The amphitheater was coming up quick and I still had some left in me. Brian and Lytle waved as I darted past; I was determined to make it to the end of the street and surely I was half way. That wall hit about half way past half way, however, and I felt all the energy drop out of my legs. My pace slowed and it felt like a struggle to not just turn around right there. Oh I'll be damned if I'm going to give up in front of all this traffic. I found one last pocket of energy and made it to the end, slapped the light pole as I turned around and trudged back exhausted.

I reached the group and did the best I could to pretend that that was totally what I meant to do. A quick headciunt to check we were all alive and then we made our way to the Relax Grill, an open air bar and grill tucked right along the shore. I'll tell you a pitcher of Stella never tasted so good. As we chatted, Jorge checked the data from his nifty GPS app and informed us that we did three point nine miles! These beginners doubted they'd be able to do much more than one mile and here we sit, alive and well, with almost four miles on our shoes! Just goes to show, no excuses just go.