KIDS THESE DAYS:

Dedicating the new stadium at Estancia High School last Friday was the easy part. The hard part was showing up the next day to walk or run five kilometers in the first Costa Mesa Community Run.

Many of us who showed up quickly discovered it was a misnomer and the event really should have been called the, “First Annual Costa Mesa Community Heart Attack Inducer.”

Before we took off, I asked family friend Rosie Tomasek, an experienced runner, what the secret was to finishing the race. Tomasek sized me up and said, without smiling, “Walk.”

The race started after some fanfare, which was notable in part because not one person mispronounced the name of the high school the way City Councilman Allan Mansoor had the day before. Once the introductions and rules were announced, several hundred runners took off around the track and out the stadium to Fairview Park for the run.

Apparently, the course was designed by a descendant of the Marquis de Sade for it contained a stretch where we ran down one sharp hill and up another.

I thought I was in pretty good shape for my age. I run every other day, play a little basketball and ride my bike a lot on weekends.

On Saturday, however, I felt 80 years old. After a mile, I took Tomasek’s advice and walked a bit.

I started running when one too many kids passed me up. There were, in fact, plenty of kids who were setting strong paces.

It pleased me to see some evidence contrary to the media drumbeat which would have us believe that seemingly every child in the country is sitting in front of the tube eating doughnuts.

When I finally picked up speed, I was passed by a Costa Mesa firefighter carrying a walkie-talkie as big as a fire hydrant. Curious, I increased my speed to speak to him.

“What are you going to do if you get a call?” I asked.

“Run faster,” he replied.

Then, perhaps realizing even a sprint as fast as a track star would not get him to the fire station in time, he added, “We’ve got the city covered.”

Of that there was no doubt. Then it occurred to me this guy knew CPR and staying close to him was a good idea.

Along the way, I waved to my son, Roy, who was running with his baseball teammates.

At the 2-mile mark, I chatted up a stranger who looked about as gray as I felt.

“Don’t worry about your time,” I told him. “The only thing anyone will remember is how you cross the finish line, so just save a little juice for the last 50 yards so you look good.”

He grunted, which I took for a, “You must be kidding.”

After the race, the winners of the opportunity drawings and race awards were handed out.

A few minutes earlier, I purchased five opportunity drawing tickets and placed them in five of the seven paint cans that had each been designated with a certain prize.

The race must have done something to my head, for the next thing I knew, my name was being called by race administrator Karen Barloon as one of the winners of a video game.

The irony did not escape her. “A guy without television wins a video game,” Barloon said.

Saturday was a great day not only for the athletes and students at Costa Mesa schools, all of whom have suffered too long without a stadium, but for the entire city as well.

And as soon as I recover from the run, I am going to recommend to the race committee they invite some sports massage therapists to open a booth at next year’s event.

STEVE SMITH is a Costa Mesa resident and a freelance writer. Send story ideas to dailypilot@latimes.com.