In my last post, I shared the magic of discovering Valencia, thanks to my friend, David. But there was one special excursion I did on my own that got me out of my comfort zone: running a 5K in Turia Park.
Six years ago, I retired earlier than planned due to back issues. At the time, my doctor told me to stop running. I’d been a regular participant in the Bolder Boulder 10K, and I’d had a goal of winning an “Ageless Wonder” ribbon—awarded to runners whose 10K time is faster than their age. I was on track to do it at 60… until I had to stop running at 58. It felt like that goal had slipped away for good.
But, slowly—miraculously—my back has gotten better. And I’ve been (cautiously) running again. Not far. Not fast. But running.
A Hard Winter, A Healing Run
This winter has been a difficult one. My mom’s dementia continues to progress. My son, a psychologist with the VA, has been dealing with painful professional turmoil. The political situation in the U.S. leaves me feeling helpless and frustrated. There’s so much suffering—close to home and in the broader world—and here I am, vacationing in Spain. I felt gratitude, yes, but also guilt.
When hard things are out of my control, exercise has always been healing for me.
So when I browsed the Meetup site and saw there would be a Saturday morning 5K Meetup in Turia Park, I was excited!
The listing included:
“All Levels Welcome: Whether you run fast, slow, or even crawl, everyone is encouraged and no one is left behind.”
Yay! This was like the Universe giving me the perfect event.
I have plans to run the Bolder Boulder 10K again and it’s only 6 weeks away.
My quiet goal for the 5K? To finish in 32 minutes and 30 seconds. If I could manage that, it would give me the push I need to train for the “Ageless Wonder” goal – running the 10K in under 65 minutes..
Getting There Was a Win
Finding the meeting spot on my own felt like its own victory. I have a notoriously poor sense of direction (I’m an expert in getting lost!), but thanks to a crash course in Spanish transit from David and excellent directions in the Meetup description, I arrived. Nervous, yes, but proud of myself.
Everyone at the start looked so young and so fast. I wondered what I was doing there, a 65-year-old American, slightly broken, slightly out of place. Especially as someone feeling deeply conflicted about what’s happening back home. But instead of judgment, I was met with kindness. A beautiful woman named Teresa introduced herself and shared some of her story with me.
At the Back of the Pack, the Best People Run
Teresa told me she’d had an ACL injury and would be running slowly with her friend Ged. “Perfect,” I thought. I joined them, and off we went.
They chatted, I huffed. I needed a couple 30-second walk breaks (I blamed the Galloway method of running.) Ged and Teresa slowed down and I caught up. And for the first time in my life, I ran past the finish line without even realizing it. The conversation was so interesting that I was distracted from my usual end-of-race exhaustion.
My watch said 32 minutes and 32 seconds—two seconds off my goal. (Sure, there was a questionable pause in my stopwatch, but I’ll take the win.) Close enough!
More Than Miles
After the run, a group went out for breakfast. I ended up in deep conversation with Ged—about politics, about travel, about what’s happening in the world. It felt like one of those rare talks where you don’t need to explain where you’re coming from. He and Teresa shared their WhatsApp contacts, and I left not just proud of my run, but feeling genuinely seen and connected.
I keep thinking how rare and beautiful it is to meet people you instantly click with, especially while traveling solo. That kind of connection lingers.
Solo, Not Alone
It’s easy to think travel is about checking off sights and snapping pictures. But the real landmarks, for me, are emotional. That morning, I gained more than a 5K finish—I gained confidence. Friendship. A sense of belonging. Proof that I’m not done dreaming or striving, even if my pace is slower than it used to be.
And Teresa and Ged? They reminded me how inspiring it is to see people face change, injury, and uncertainty with joy and curiosity. We are all carrying something. Grief. Loss. Pain. The wisdom is in carrying it together.
The Ribbon Doesn’t Matter
I may or may not run the Bolder Boulder in under 65 minutes this year. Actually, after a week of overtraining, I started having back pain again, so I know I have to take it slowly. The real win was this: I ran in a new country, with new people, and I felt alive. I felt strong. And I felt hope.
So whatever my speed, I’ll keep moving. Keep connecting. Keep showing up, wherever I am, in whatever body I’m in.
Because this much I know: It’s not about how fast we go, it’s about getting in the race.
