I don’t have many rules for running/racing. Mostly guidelines. My two most frequently cited guidelines are “Don’t Die” and “Don’t Finish Last.” These are very good guidelines to maintain. I have another, less well known guideline – don’t travel longer to a race than it will take to run that race.
This was one that I didn’t abide the rules. Well. That last rule in specific.
Falmouth is no less than a 2-hour drive in each direction. There’s no race day packet pick up, so your bib has to be picked up beforehand. Without some friend support, you’re heading to the cape Friday, which means heading into the belly of the beast of summer Cape Cod traffic. Thankfully for me, I have a wonderful running support network.
I received a last minute invitation to stay at my friend’s place with the rest of the team, which was a welcome invitation – I wasn’t cherishing the idea of driving 2 hours on Sunday morning, running a race, then driving no less than 2- hours on the way home. “No less than” because as crummy as Cape traffic is on Fridays heading down to the cape, leaving the Cape on Sunday is no treat either.
After a solid night sleep and a hectic morning rush, we made it to the buses. Now, we made it, but by this point my wheels had already come off the wagon. I got up later than plan, so I didn’t grab breakfast. On the way to the bus, I realized I’d forgotten my wallet so no means by which to procure sustenance. And then, the final, crushing blow: I’d left my GPS watch at my car.
I was able to get some water from fluid stations, Steve was able to grab me a bagel from the medical tent people and Courtney, she pulled off the coup de gras by acquiring me a cream filled donut. Quick, cheap carbs and hydration, I was more or less ready to go.
Now, it was humid as all get out with a cloud cover, so it wasn’t as hot as it may have been, but being as sticky as it was being all crammed in with so many of my closest friends at the start, I was thankful for having a lower number bib so I was in a smaller corral.
My first mile was pretty good. I was feeling okay, and I ripped off a decent 7:30-ish pace. My second mile continued well, until about 3/4 of the way through when my shins and the bottom of my feet both tightened up. I had to stop a few times to stretch, and had a walk a few times. It was painful as hell. For a mile and a half, I walked, I stretched, I pushed. Fortunately for me, after that the muscles loosened up and became less painful.
I won’t say I got progressively stronger, but I did get progressively less sore. At least until Monday. For the rest of the race, my pace got progressively better and I crossed the finish line with a chip time of 1:00:03.27, rounded up to 1:00:04.
The finish line videos are interesting – I think it looks plain as day that I’m in pain: I look stiff heading over that line. Click through the results and check out the videos. It wasn’t a great race, but it was a great time.
|Location||Race Time||Time of Day||Pace Between||Overall Place||Division Place||Sex Place||Age Graded Place||Passed / By|