He damn near broke every Olympic record at the small-town fundraiser, only to greet me impolitely at the finish line. His relaxed demeanor could not have been more insulting. It was as if he said, “You need water after that?!”
This event made me wonder about people's motivations behind charity-affiliated sporting events. Clearly, I was desperately trying to avoid Halloween — which, by the way, failed. Shortly after my three well-deserved beers, I decided to spend the remainder of the evening as a black cat complete with furry ears — but Manny, quite obviously, had other motivations that are still being determined. Perhaps narcissism.
I wondered what motivated my other competitors. Why do these events attract so many people? The angel in all of us would naturally say, “To support a good cause.” But I don’t believe any of that -- especially not for this particular small-town 5K that benefited who, again? What was it? A dog shelter?
When I lived in Naples, I raced in a couple 5K events. Initially, my motivation was to get my body back into shape and build up my endurance. Upon arriving to my first event however, I found myself surrounded by hundreds of twenty-somethings all appearing to not only be healthy and good-looking but also, active participants in society. That is, they had jobs, cars, good credit and were, most likely, registered to vote. In Naples, this type of demographic is very hard to come by. It was Naples’ version of MacDinton’s. And if you’ve ever been to MacDinton’s, you’ll understand my shift in motivation.
The consensus that I have come to though is that no matter what our motivation is — personal records, social advancements, networking, holiday-avoidance, or even masochism — the bottom line is that it works! If you ever find yourself in a position where you need to raise money, organize an athletic event to bring healthy, wealthy, and thriving individuals together and the magic will happen!
On Halloween, I was hopelessly spending most of the day huddled in my apartment researching the United States’ media coverage on Iran. I had purposely not made plans to celebrate the evening dressed as media sensation Balloon Boy, a firefighter with red-hot lipstick and heels, or even a cat. Instead, six weeks prior, I committed myself to the Hob Gobl’n 5K Race, hosted by the Dunedin House of Beer.
For about 30 bucks, I agreed to run 3.1 miles in exchange for three beers of my choice, a t-shirt, and a wonderful spaghetti and meatball dinner. Oh, and a portion of my 30 dollars went to the Dunedin Doggie Rescue — but that wasn’t the best part. The best part was that runners were not required to wear a costume.
I suckered my classmate Manny into running in the event, too. While the purpose of my participation was to avoid the annual Halloween costume stress, Manny signed up because — well, I don’t know exactly why he participated, especially since he treated the entire event as though it were a brisk walk down a scenic trail.
