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I've run in this race in 5 out of the last 6 years now; in fact, this was the first race I'd ever run, back in 2006. It's usually a small field, always under 100 people -- faculty, staff, alumni, and students, mostly. Lots of familiar faces.
I like this race because it is small -- it greatly increases my odds of winning a prize. It starts early, at 8:00am, and I arrived at about 7:30 to register. They gave away purple long-sleeve shirts this year, and I have to say, they look pretty nice. I checked in, pinned my number to my shirt, and found a quiet corner to listen to some music. From my quiet corner, I couldn't see how few people were registering. The field was even smaller than usual -- only 38 runners. When the race began, I lined up close to the front, so even then, I still didn't see that there weren't many people behind me. I took off fast, and with so few racers, I thought I was up front with the fast runners. (Ha!)
The race course begins on campus, goes through the neighborhood nearby, and comes back on to campus with about a half mile left. I started out fast -- too fast, I think. It's much easier to do that in a small field, when there's so much open space between runners. Add the fact that I haven't raced in so long, and I'm not used to pacing myself, and we have a potential disaster on our hands.
It didn't take long for me to realize that I needed to slow down. It was a chilly morning, about 37 degrees at race time (which probably kept some people away), and my lungs aren't used to running in such cold temperatures. They quickly let me know that they were unhappy.
About a half mile into it, the field was pretty much settled -- everyone was about where they were going to end up. I had passed three or four people soon after the start, but now there was a lot of space behind me, and a woman about 20 yards in front of me.
It stayed that way until we had about a mile left, and we were approaching campus again. I had starting hearing voices behind me a few minutes earlier. I figured they were students. They just had a kind of loudness to them that I would associate with youthful enthusiasm. But the voices got closer and closer, and then I realized they were so loud because they were a couple of older people, and their hearing was probably going. I recognized one of them as a retired staff member. As he and his friend passed me, I heard him casually describing his horrific tendon injury ("Yeah, the doc said I really need to take it easy.") I'll spare you the gory details of the injury. After the race, I told him that I didn't mind being passed, but it really wasn't necessary to describe his injury while he was doing it. He apologized, but his friend cracked up.
Being passed by a reitree with a tendon injury did inspire me to pick up my pace a little, and I closed in on the woman who had been 20 yeards ahead of me the whole time. She heard me and picked it up a little, too, so that surge was kind of a waste of energy. I should have saved it for better things.
With about a half mile left, we came to the edge of campus, and were greeted by a long, moderately steep hill. I always try to save a little near the end of this race, so I can make it up this hill OK. Which I did. But halfway up the hill, I heard footsteps behind me, and found myself being passed by a man who was probably a very good football player at one time (he was built like a former football player, anyway). As he passed me, I touched his shoulder. "Oh, man," I said between huffs. "Do you have to pass me on a hill?" He laughed, and the feel-good endorphins from the laughter propelled him up the hill, past the woman in front of me, and out of sight.
As we approached the finish, I still had a little bit in reserve. The PR department's photographer usually waits just past a scenic wrought iron gate at the edge of the quad, about 200 yeards before the finish. Makes for a nice photo. I run with a very short stride, so in past photos, I've looked like I'm walking, or maybe shuffling. This year, I decided I would surge through gate, with a good long stride, so my photo would look like I was sprinting to the finish.
Of course, the photographer stayed inside instead, so my sprinting surge was wasted. Coupled with the emotional letdown of not getting my picture taken, and seeing the woman in front of me start a nice finishing kick, I limped the last 100 yards to the finish.
The photographer eventually got my picture, later, as I reached for a second container of full-fat cream cheese for my bagel. Thanks.
So my final time was about 30 minutes and 50 seconds. They didn't give official times, so I'm going by my watch. I had forgotten to turn it off until a few second after the finish, so I'm estimating my time. I had hoped to break 30 minutes.
Still, it was good enough to finish in 2nd place in my age group, earning myself a $10 gift card to Dunkin' Donuts. (And, yes, there was a third place finisher, thanks very much.)
So, to review all of my excuses:
- I haven't been running outside as much these days because my mornings are busy;
- The cold weather made my asthma flare up;
- The small field made it hard to pace myself;
- The course is really hilly;
- I was emotionally devasted by being passed by a retiree with a horrific tendon injury;
- I'm old;
- I'm fat;
- and I'm slow.
It was nice to race again. I hope to do it more. As winter approaches, there aren't as many races, but there are a few nearby in the next few months. I'll keep you updated.
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