Admittedly, I had a lot of questions before I arrived. Important stuff like, "Where do I put my car keys?" and "How do I attach a race number?" But probably most crucial: "How painful is it going to be having my junk flopping around for 3.2 miles?"
To address the third one -- without actually having to find out firsthand -- I invested in a jock strap. Or, I tried. Upon stopping at the Sports Authority, however, I learned that -- much like VCRs and the post office -- jock straps have become obsolete, replaced by sexy, padded support spandex. I bought a pair of nice bright-green ones.
And then I pulled into the resort. Let's just say that not a single person warming up in the parking lot was wearing clothes. Nothing. It was at this point that I realized running in anything other than sunscreen would be like going to a rave and putting in earplugs. Like, right in front of everybody, and while making a scene about how I have to have my ear plugs. Nudists won't judge you for being fat, hairy, or rocking 14 scrotum piercings, but they probably WOULD judge you for coming to a 5K and running in underwear. At least that was my assessment.
And thus, with my manhood in question, I decided to suck it up, strip off my spandex, and make my way to the starting line.