Experience KPeasey:
Kevin Enners recounts what racing Publix Atlanta Half Marathon feels like to an Athlete

4:30am on Race Day:
My dad walks in my room in his cycling clothes. At first – in my fog of half-slumber drunkenness – I wonder, is this a dream? I’ve had one similar to this, except, in the dream, my dog woke me up. And, he was talking. I check outside my room to see Bo trying to herd everyone and my mom breezes by, descending the stairs to the kitchen where she attends to our German Shepherd and fixes breakfast for me. As I pull on my cycling garments with dad’s help and lube my feet in petroleum jelly, strap braces on, I start to feel a familiar rush of excitement in these moments before a big race like The Atlanta Publix half-marathon. 

When we begin lining up for the race start, I feel nervous, excited, cold, hot. It is the worst part of racing for me. I’m strapped in, ready to blast off in my hobo rocket and time seems to slow to a crawl. It used to be I’d let this get to me, but over the years, I’ve learned how to relax, so when I feel anxious, I take a few deep cleansing breathes and reassure myself – I got this.

Some people are gifted with thin runner bodies and fly through space effortlessly. I am not one of those people. Due to my cerebral palsy, I train and race with a recumbent cycle. I don’t know why, but it’s very relaxing. I might be going out of my skull on my indoor trainer, but amid the suffering, there is a certain freedom to cranking. It gets me away from the monotony of sitting in a wheelchair eight hours a day. It frees my restless spirit while keeping my legs strong. And, it levels the playing field in road races where I feel equal to runners or other wheelchair or crank athletes. Hills don’t care if you have a disability or not. You still have to get over them. 

Once the race begins, I’m in “the zone”. I ignore all urges to consciously pass people, if it happens, it happens, I don’t force it. I don’t notice the spectators; my focus is on the road with its dips, turns and potholes. The cheers of the crowd and encouraging shouts from other athletes all blend into background noise as I concentrate on managing my pace. I remember my training, that this is what all of it has been for, and I hope it’s enough. Most importantly, I try to enjoy it. 

With the finish line in sight, I know I should be ecstatic the end is near, but I am one of those people who say, “Aw man, it’s over?!”  I do, however, feel a sense of accomplishment for my effort and relief that no “broken wheel award” was earned.

I am extremely goal oriented. I look forward to the next adventure. My racing experience has shown me that planning, preparing and training is key to achieving my goals. Setting goals help me move forward and stay engaged. Completing my goals gives me motivation to set loftier ones.