(Okay, let's me honest and state also that the other times I ran this race they held it in August, so we had the full benefit of sun and humidity, whereas today was good weather for running faster. But still, I am 13 years older...and that must count for something!)
I almost didn't make it there this morning. Wasn't too enthused about it from the get go, because it's a really dreary day outside (40s and rain). And the notes in my running logs from 1999 and 2003 about this race were disturbing. In 1999, I commented that my knee felt weird afterwards. In 2003, note that it was just a few months before I ended up having knee surgery! So, you have to wonder if the hilly course had anything to do with it.
I reminded myself about the residents of St. Joseph's Home. I felt it would be dishonorable not to at least show up.
Stuck with just one cup of coffee this morning. Didn't want a repeat of two weeks ago at the finish line. Left the house at 8 am for the 9 am start. Dressed in long-sleeve shirt from the Hartford Marathon and the trusty and increasingly threadbare CW-X capri tights. Really need to get some new ones. Also, water-repellant ballcap from Delaware Marathon. Tucked some gloves in my gear bag, along with a change of clothes for post-race.
All was well until a couple of miles before my exit off I-71. Traffic was at a standstill. I should have listened to the traffic report before leaving but it's Saturday so I didn't think it would be an issue. Anyway, they had the road blocked off completely at my planned exit and I had to get off one stop before. By the time I could get moving, it was looking like I was going to arrive with less than 15 minutes to race time, and I like to have a little more than that. Wondered if I would even make it in time. Never know with the GPS if it is telling me to do the right thing or not.
On the way home I found out that the little stretch of highway was closed because of an overturned semi. It was flipped over on the concrete divider, and at that point, it looked the cleanup crew had pried it open and were removing boxes from it for transport in another truck.
I did make it there about 15 minutes before the start, parked in a hurry and trotted up to pick up my number. Kept my fleece jacket on because it was so cold, and was almost starting to think about running with it on but came to my senses in time. Jogged back to the car and got the nylon coverup I had tucked in my bag at the last minute, and my gloves, and did my warmup wearing that. Didn't have time to go a full mile, but tried to get a little up and down hill in.
Looked around at groups of skinny women dressed in stylish, aerodynamic running attire and felt...dumpy. But I tried to tell myself that they must be new runners and that was why they were in new clothes.
And then it was time to line up. I took off the nylon coverup but didn't think I had enough time to go back to the car, so I just tied it around my waist. The good thing is that it has a zipper pocket so I could put my car key in there. The key was too big for the pocket of my tights. The other good thing about the coverup tied around my waist was that just in case my tights really were too threadbare or in just case a seam just suddenly ripped open, I was safe.
This is not a very big race, so I lined up right in front where the fast people are supposed to be. Not that I am fast, but the road is pretty wide, relative to the number of people, so I didn't think I would be blocking any real speedsters. There were just a few women there who looked competitive, despite the aforementioned clothing (like the woman who was just standing to my right), and honestly, I didn't see any men who looked real fast. So I didn't think I was going to impede anyone.
My plan was to run the first fast downhill mile "sensibly"---that is, I knew it would be faster than I am capable of on a flat course, and I wasn't going to hold myself back, but I also wasn't going to do anything stupid. I was going to be careful. The mantra was "flow."
For the second mile, I was going to try to run faster than usual for a flat second mile. The mantra was "attack."
For the third mile, well, there the plan was a little less developed. I wanted to attack that one also, but I also didn't want to trash my knee in the process. So, the mantra was a little more like "hang on."
The race director fired a starting pistol and we were off. As I thought, plenty of room. A few women took off ahead of me but I managed to catch a couple of them before we'd gone a half mile or so. The hill was not as steep as I remembered. That was a good thing. I stopped worrying about my knee. Hit the first mile marker in 6:58. Hey, that was just a few seconds slower than 1999, when I felt like I was running way outside my capabilities. So, for some "sensible" running, it was decent. I skipped the aid station but thanked the volunteers.
Okay, here we are in mile two and it is time to "attack." Except, I did not feel much like attacking. Yes, things were going well, and I was glad I had come out for the race and made it there on time, but I didn't know if I had any "attack" in me. There weren't any women around for me to try to catch or pass, just some older, not especially fit looking, guys. Not much incentive to push real hard. But, I tried to focus on doing my best.
Hit the mile two marker with a 7:57. Hey, sub-15 minutes for two miles! That's probably my best in quite awhile. That was encouraging. Maybe there was some "attack" in me after all.
And then we turned off into a parking lot and around to the hill. Most of the last mile (except for a little bit at the beginning of it) is uphill, and it is quite a hill. Unlike the downhill first mile, it was just as steep as I remembered. The only good thing about it was that it was cool and overcast instead of hot and sunny.
There was another aid station in the parking lot and I skipped that one, too, but once again thanked the volunteers. Who thanked me right back.
I became aware of some very loud wheezing and grunting noises, and realized that it was me making those sounds. But it felt good to make those sounds, so I decided that I didn't care what they guys around me thought, I would just keep doing it. I passed one guy, for good, that I had been trading places with for much of the race.
I was in that no-man's (woman's?) land, where I often find myself in these small races, between the fast people in the front and the slow people in the back.
I wanted to run, however slowly, up the entire hill. I tried to keep remembering to pump my arms. At one point, I decided that maybe I could walk just as fast as I could run, so I admit that I did shift to a walk for a few steps. But I quickly realized that even my very slow running was faster than walking, so I went back to the "run."
At the turnoff into the access road to St. Joseph's, there were a few volunteers waiting on the side, with a couple of the residents in wheelchairs. All the residents who were outside for the race were bundled up in matching dark blue rain ponchos. The volunteers were all relentlessly cheery looking. It is difficult and important work that they are doing. I gave them a big smile and waved my arms broadly.
As I think about this race, I think it is maybe more for the families and the volunteers than it is for the residents. I could be wrong. The way I think about this race is that it is an opportunity for the families of the residents and the staff and the volunteers at the home to get together with the community, and share the day together with the residents of the home. And that is a nice thing to be a small part of.
I had been hoping that I was wrong about how much was left of the race, but just as I remembered, there was quite a bit more hill to go. I continued up the access road and passed my car. Where was that three mile marker? Agggh. There was one guy ahead of me. I wasn't going to catch him.
I hit the button on my watch at the three mile marker but didn't look at it. (Later I would see that this mile was a 9:48, actually 13 seconds slower than my 1999 time. So much for the benefits of shade.)
I tried to pick it up for that last .1, and I managed to, a little, covering it in 44 seconds (vs. 56 seconds in 1999). Final time was 25:27. I was twelve seconds faster than in 1999, and most of that improvement was in the second mile (attack!) and that last .1. And, since I was only expecting to finish in 27 minutes, this was very happy news. So, I guess you could say I did run the race according to plan, and the plan worked out even better than expected.
I stood along side the finish chute and cheered for some of the other runners, then I started to get cold so I walked to my car to get my dry clothes, then went inside the warm auditorium for waffles and sausages. Not bad post race food, not bad at all. People around me were talking about how happy they were with their finish times in the 32 minute range. I was pretty sure that I had won my age group. I didn't see anybody there I recognized.
They announced the overall winners and also the winners of the team competition. The men's winner didn't even break 20, and the woman ran a 22. I noted that I was faster than the winning team, which was a bunch of guys. They didn't announce the rest of the awards, but told you to just look on the wall where they had posted the results, and if you had won something, go up to a table where they would give you a medal. Maybe it was because in a race with just 149 runners and 78 walkers and multiple awards in the age groups, almost everybody goes home with something.
In the end, I was 1 of 4 in my age group, 8 of 84 women, and 22 of 149 runners overall (plus I beat the 78 walkers, but they started after us, and the guy who won the race walk would not have been too far behind me, as he was walking seriously fast).
Now if I could just find a way to get some 20 mile long runs in every other week, like I used to do in 1999, maybe I could break 4 hours in the marathon again after all.
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