A Triumphant Return?

In the heat of the moment things seem worth it.  I have no regrets about making a return to racing only 3 weeks after doing some damage to my legs in my first marathon.  That is the addiction, all runners know it well.  Once my legs began to feel good again my mind naturally went back to competitive mode. 

I had said that after the Cape Cod Marathon in late-October that I would not race again until the Hyannis Half Marathon in late-February.  In the days after the marathon that promise seemed like it would be easy to keep.  My legs, specifically my left foot, were worn out.  I had bruised my left heel and ball of my left foot all in the efforts to finish the final 11 miles of the marathon.  I had battled the pulled hamstring, battled the cramped calves, battled the achy hip flexors and groin, and had succeeded in crossing that finish line.

I had begun my convalescence by changing up my workout to strengthen my legs and core so that when I returned to racing I would be ‘new and improved.’  It only took about 10 days before I felt good and was back to running, although only for as long and as fast as I chose to.  I was NOT going to train for any races until 2013.  Well, that did not happen.

Last year I had run a 5K on Thanksgiving and really enjoyed starting a fun family holiday with a sort of ‘running adventure’ that I could share with the family later on.  I wanted that again.  I chose another 5K since I knew that I could finish it without having to do any sort of training.  I chose to run in Provincetown since it would be a scenic run and a scenic drive to and from the race.  Plus the fact that I signed up 2 days earlier meant there was not a lot of time for me to start over thinking if I was ready to race again.

I got to the race site an hour early as is my superstitious custom since I did it for my very first race.  There were only a few other people there so I got my number and wandered off.  It was at a motel so I got to off on my own and stretch and meditate on a basketball court.  I sat on the walls of a barbecue pit and surveyed as other runners showed up.  It was a small event, probably 70-80 runners, a far cry from the 12,000 that ran the Falmouth Road Race in August.

The people running the event were nice but the setup was a bit amateurish.  There was no timer at the finish line, and the Start/Finish line was hand drawn in chalk 2 minutes before the race commenced.  The time was kept by stopwatch.  Needless to say I was ready no matter what, it was 50 and sunny which was much improved over the 30 with 20 degree windchills during my Thanksgiving race in 2011.  Since 5K’s are all out sprints I positioned myself on the starting line ready to take off. 

Like a shot I was off.  I felt good and as I got about a mile out I realized I was 3^rd overall with nobody behind me.  I kept my cool and kept my pace up.  Now here’s where it gets interesting, like ‘it can only happen to me’ interesting.  There was a fork in the road ahead, the race route was to go to the left, that was easy enough.  However, we were told at the start that there would be a woman dressed all in Pilgrim garb with water.  She would be the halfway/turnaround point.  Easy enough, right?  It turns out that she did not expect any runners to get there as fast as the top 3, myself included, did.  She had been posting a sign with an arrow making sure no runners went the wrong way at the fork.  So she was nowhere to be found and therefore we had no clue where the turnaround was.  I saw the two runners ahead of me turn back as the pilgrim lady yelled to them. With my headphones on I did not hear her but turned around too.  We ended up going about ¼ mile too far and I was stuck in 8^th overall on the way back.

I was running out of gas but crawled my way to 5^th as I crossed the chalk finish line.  It ended up being my best finish in a race, not counting a 'Virtual 5K' where I had nobody chasing me, you did it wherever you felt like doing it . I finished the 'virtual' in 2nd overall.  I kept the extra ¼ mile in mind when figuring my time, I ended up with a 7:17/mi. pace which made me feel good considering I didn’t train and had planned on not racing until late-February.  The pilgrim lady showed up at the finish line and she was so sweet and nice that I forgot all about her vacating her post as the halfway marker. 

Now as I said at the beginning in the heat of the moment it was a great start to a great Thanksgiving.  The next day?  Not so much.  I aggravated my bruised left heel so my plan of not running a race until February might be back in effect.  Walking has been a chore today but what can you do?  I might have been overzealous and returned too quickly but hindsight is always 20/20.  I’ll give it a few days and see if I can go on or go back to square one.  I don’t regret it though, I have never regretted anything I’ve done during my racing life.

Have any of you made a vow not to race for a set period of time only to give in to the ‘addiction?’  How did it go for you?

Surveying the scene from my perch on the barbecue pit wall.

My 'cyborg leg' part injury-prevention, part preparing to run in the cold.

When the Experience Means More Then the Result

11,000 people. That’s how many ran the 40^th Annual Falmouth Road Race this year.  It was my first as I used my time for the Harwich Half Marathon last October to get in via the lottery system.  11,000 people and me; I knew that the beginning especially was going to be a mess.  It would probably be a mixture of walking, trotting, and slow jogging.  I knew that setting some sort of time goal was most likely not going to work. 

The weather on race day further emphasized that idea.  The torrential rains which were falling when I awoke at 5:30am would keep going up until race time at 10.  It would eventually flood much of the race course and cause delays while crews drained the water from the worst areas.

I thought getting up extra early might help me find a parking spot closer to where you caught the buses from Falmouth down into Woods Hole.  I was right, but many other people had the same idea.  I was in traffic for the last five or so miles of my trip.  It was three hours before race time and there was traffic, then again there were 11,000 runners and who knows how many supporters as well clogging the streets that day.

I parked at the Town Hall lot which was nearly empty.  The buses were in sight, a short walk from my car.  I sat inside as the rain continued to come down.  I had bought brand new Brooks Adrenaline GTS 12’s only a week earlier.  They were all black and I was drooling over the thought of running the race in all black ala Johnny Cash.  Still, I had to make a decision.  Do I run the race in my new shoes and risk them being ruined by puddles of water?  Or do I ‘un-retire’ my old Adrenaline’s that were now my everyday shoes?  Ultimately I erred on the side of caution and broke out my old shoes. 

Being that the grip and cushioning were lacking in the new shoes my expectations for my time dropped.  That did not matter though, the experience of being in Falmouth that day started to win me over.  I mean, how could you not like trudging through the rain and seeing hundreds of people wrapped in trash bags?  That’s the runner spirit.

I made my way to the local elementary school where the school buses were lining up to begin taking runners to the starting line.  I was able to get the small, very back seat much like I did all during my school years.  It was a neat bit of retro until the guy sat in the seat in front of me and proceeded to open his window all the way.  Remind you it was still raining at this point.  Not to mention he was the only one to open his window.  The water came drizzling in on me of course.  I was wearing a hat but still.  Then he laughs as he mentions there’s water coming into the bus through a vent in the roof.  I said ‘yeah and it’s coming in through your window, too.’  That didn’t change a thing.

Upon arriving in Woods Hole we runners we directed down a side street toward Water Street where the starting line resided.  The rain was lighter but still coming down.  Now not only were there people covered in trash bags but they were also hiding out in any dry crevice and overhang of buildings.  They also huddled under trees.  Me?  I figured I was already a little wet why not just wander around and get a feel for the location.

I had dug out a very old long-sleeved gym shirt to wear over my running clothes so I was not totally exposed.  I also had stuck my Iphone in a Ziploc bag to keep it dry, leaving a little opening for my headphones.  Oh yeah, running with headphones was not allowed but the photos of me crossing the finish line show me wearing them, oops.  

I tried my best to get my usual routine of stretches in as race time approached.  With about ten minutes until start time I got into my position.  Due to the insane amount of runners we were divided into ‘corrals.’  It was like being cattle, fencing and all.  I tossed my wet and old gym shirt into a nearby trash and got ready to run. 

Then they announced the flooding on the course.  We’d be delayed close to twenty minutes.  So, there I was wedged in among hundreds of people unable to do anything but wait and cool down.  To top it all off the rain stopped and the sweltering humidity became more evident.

Once the race got started I felt good, I was able to navigate the array of hills that greeted us all.  Three miles in I was ahead of my original pace goal.  Then the humidity, delayed start, and old shoes got to me.  I could feel my legs aching which caused me to slow down some.  At every mile marker there was a clock so you had an idea of where you stood.  Once I got to Mile 5 and I was off pace I decided to get back to enjoying the experience and letting go of my time expectations.

To keep my legs going I began to slap hands with all of the kids I passed.  It made me feel important so why wouldn’t I?  I noticed the people playing music along the roads, actual instruments, guitars mostly.  The spectacle of this event was unlike anything I’ve been a part of.  Then the sun broke out as I closed in on the final mile.

At this point I saw the first medical tent which I was glad I didn’t have to visit.  The crowds grew along the roadside, some place four or five people deep.  They cheered me on as I wanted to slow down.  Of course with only a few hundred yards to go there was one final hill leading to the finish line under a gigantic American Flag.

As I soaked in the immediate aftermath of a tough but exciting race my phone went off and there was my running mentor and best friend Emily asking how the race went.  The funny part was that just as I checked my phone a photographer took a shot of me so that moment is frozen in time.

I walked to where the first water station was after the finish line.  After grabbing water I slid slowly down a metal barricade and collected myself. People soaked in sweat passed by staring at their finisher medals.  I looked down at mine and was happy.  I got up and followed the crowds to the field where all of the food and beverages were being dished out.

I gladly accepted the bagels, raisins, bananas, hot dogs, and water then set off to survey the scene.  People were still being announced finishing so the crowds continued to grow while I walked around.  I stood in line for a Yasso Frozen Yogurt bar that I had gotten samples of at the Running Expo a few nights earlier, really good.  I walked to the very edge of the packed, muddy field, stood up on a fence, leaning against a trailer, and snapped a photo trying to capture that moment.  I do love running, but for me the best part of a race is when it is over.  Hopefully I am in one piece and I can reflect on what I have done.  That is what I did in Falmouth.

I was tired and had no clue where I was.  I actually had to use my phone’s GPS to locate myself and then get a map to where my car was parked.  After running 7 miles, and walking a good half mile to the field, I had to walk nearly two more miles to my car.  This may have been the best part of the day though.  I played songs that fit my mood, and since I was wearing my bib number I received a lot of smiles and waves from the sea of traffic which I soon became a part of. 

The Falmouth Road Race is every bit of the unique experience that people say it is.  The crowds, the festivities, it all adds up to a great day.  Now, the traffic I can do without, needing over two hours to make a 40-minute drive home is nuts, but I would do it all again, and will in 2013. 

How about you, my fellow runners?  Have you participated in any races where the time takes a back seat to the overall experience?  Notice that I wrote nothing of my time/pace/finish.   

At the Finish Line, checking my phone like I said, here's the 'Proof.'

Heading for the buses to Woods Hole

In 'Corral 3' with the Starting Line in the distance.

The best view of the madness after the race, the finish line flag is on the right.