Home' Trinidad and Tobago Guardian : April 19th 2015 Contents 12| WOW MAGAZINE
Sunday Guardian www.guardian.co.tt April 19, 2015
| ADVENTURES IN FITNESS |
I begin primping to receive my medal...only
to discover that the race isn't finished yet.
We're still expected to trail through a se-
ries of orange cones placed in the grass,
which add another kilometre to the run. I
begin to wonder which of my good
dresses my kids will bury me in.
KIZUNA is the brain child of Kesneil
Clarke, CEO CAAMS Events. It's a
Japanese word which means bonding.
The concept of running a race while
tied to another came from his beliefs
that a contributing factor to the current
state of T&T is the breakdown of
strong, healthy relationships within the
homes, workplaces and communities.
The event was executed in collabora-
tion with Albert Marshall, whose signa-
ture events include the annual Fitness
Fever and Caribbean Colour Splash.
Find them on Facebook at Caribbean
By Roslyn Carrington
YOU KNOW ME, always ready to try my hand at any new
(or old) fitness events. You might remember me telling
you about the Caribbean Colour Splash 5K run a few
months ago (which entailed me dodging steady streams
of coloured paint on a 5K run through the streets of San
Fernando). I had so much fun that when I got an invita-
tion to something called the KIZUNA Unity Run by the
same people, you could book it: I'd be there.
The catch? You had to do the run TETHERED BY THE
WAIST to another person. Okayyyy, then.... After a brief
moment of skull-scratching and a small amount of
wheedling, I managed to line up a partner willing to get
hitched, at least long enough to lap the Queen's Park Sa-
vannah. A friend --- let's call him "John" --- was game to try.
So we kit up and hit the road.
We get there early, so to while away the time John chal-
lenges me to a little Frisbee tossing...and he just happens
to conveniently have one in his car. I'm sceptical, largely
• He's a member of the winning team for the Ultimate
Frisbee Championships 2015, and
• The last time I attempted to catch anything was proba-
bly in Form Three, back in the days when I was routinely
second-to-last pick for ANY of the games they forced us
I am afraid that "playing Frisbee" will soon degenerate
into "dodging Frisbee", or even "running screaming from
Frisbee". But I put my game face on, and we get down to
some serious disc-throwing. And I surprise myself (and,
no doubt, him as well). My catch rate is about 50%, never
mind the brisk QPS breeze, and a good half of my throws
are on target. Half an hour later, I'm winded but mighty
pleased with myself. I have lost my Frisbee virginity with
style. The race is nowhere near started, so we report to
TGIFridays across the road for a little drinkie-winkie. You
know, to "carb up" before the race.
Several ice cubes later, we look out the window and re-
alise our fellow runners are waist-deep in Zumba, so we
dash back across the road and fall in. Our instructor,
Nicholas Gordon, is engaging and enthusiastic --- perhaps
too enthusiastic. It quickly becomes clear that I cannot
keep up with his elaborate orchestrations, so I content
myself with admiring his expert wining abilities and re-
spond with a cheery little wine of my own.
Then it's bondage time. John and I are tied by the waist
via bungee cord, which ensures we are never more than 4
or 5 feet apart. And the race begins. Now, given that the
gentleman in question is a full head taller than me, and
has legs like a giraffe, it quickly becomes apparent that,
despite the gun talk I had given him earlier about drag-
ging him all over Port of Spain, if I don't buck up I will be-
come the drag-EE, and not the drag-ER.
We make good time, and through sheer bad-mind and
congenital Carrington cussedness, I make the lap un-
scathed, and we are back at the start. I begin primping to
receive my medal...only to discover that the race isn't fin-
ished yet. We're still expected to trail through a series of
orange cones placed in the grass, which add another kilo-
metre to the run. Sneaky, sneaky KIZUNA! I begin to won-
der which of my good dresses my kids will bury me in.
But we make it to the end. Not only did I not die, but
thanks to my long-legged companion, I was obliged to
step up my game, coming in at my best time ever for a
5K. (Which isn't saying much, but leave me to gloat in
peace, nah.) Jubilation and medals ensue. We're winded
but chuffed, and by mutual agreement, return to TGIFri-
days to imbibe more "carbs" (heh).
Will definitely do it again. Difficulty rating, 3 out of 5. Fun
rating: a full 5 stars.
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