The last 40 yards of Pat's Run, a 4.2 mile run/walk that honor's the memory of Pat Tillman, covers 42 yards of Sun Devil Stadium's playing field. Pat wore number 42 when he played so brilliantly for the Sun Devils.

I haven't run much in the last 30 years. Maybe a hop here or quick stride there. Arthritis came upon me in my early 20s. My knees ached; my feet and my hands killed me. There were times during the 70s that I used a cane to help me walk. But, I am lucky. My type of arthritis burns itself out over time. Mine has left me stiff and some motion is restricted, but the nasty, mind-numbing, anger-producing, self-loathing pain has passed. A year ago I told Lori that I was going to do the Pat Tillman Run. Today I did. I took the tiny photo above with my cell phone as I burst (not really) joyfully (this is true) through the tunnel and hit Frank Kush Field at Sun Devil Stadium. What a thrill!


My re-entry to competition has been fueled by the pain's passing. I have gradually stepped up my training activities. Last fall I began running in the pool. In January I began to run around the neighborhood once a week. At first I had no wind. I sucked air big time. Over time I found my wind and a pace that supported my rickety knees and tender toes. Around the Super Bowl I changed from running in the pool to swimming. Beginning in April I started running in the neighborhood 3-4 nights per week. I made only one promise to myself: I would not, regardless of how I felt, I would not finish last.

20,000 people ran or walked the race. The start was staggered based upon how a person's pace for mile. I started way in the back. I had no idea of how fast I would be. I never timed myself when I practiced instead I relished reconnecting with my inner player.

It took about 20 minutes for our group to make the start; during our wait, we watched the elite runners pass the start and head for the finish. "Oh shit," I said aloud to the nodding agreement of my fellow runners. After watching the gifted runner sprint for home we finally reached the starting line. Crossing the line was an emotional, triumphant, and personal moment for me, even among a crowd of 20,000.

The first mile was the worst. My legs felt like cement. As I ran, I passed many people, mostly walkers, who had started before me. There were about five people that I recognized through the run. We took turns passing one another through the course. Coursing through the walkers was good sport. I ran 2/3-3/4 of the race, which wound it's way north of the Sun Devil Stadium through the rolling streets that bound Papago Park. I knew I wouldn't run the entire 4.2 miles in my first race.

As I passed the 3-mile marker my left foot began to throb some. My new running shoes served me well, cushioning my plodding strides. I slowed my pace, the pain passed, and I headed for the finish. Entering the stadium was as cool as I thought it would be. ASU football players stood shoulder to shoulder encouraging us as we ran down the field. I gave everything I had once I reached the field heading toward the finish. Quickly, I went running in a crowd to running alone. No one was near me and I was heading down the sidelines all alone. I gave my best burst. Hit the finish just as a race official said 10,300. I didn't finish last. There were 20,000 of us at the start and 13,000 or so wore the timing chip.

My official time was 55:09. You may view my results below. Next year I'll improve my time. I played 18 holes the next day and broke 90 at the always testing Aguila. My shins barked pretty good for a couple of days. I got back in the pool on Monday to stretch and swim so as not to lose my wind. I'll start running again next week.