Location: Piper Glen
Warmup: 2.30 mi in 18:05/8:05 ppm
Race: Unofficially but according to the Garmin - 3.16 mi in 19:07/6:02 ppm; officially 19:08, 32nd overall/12th in age group.
Cooldown: 3.37 mi in 32:22/9:35 ppm
I woke up angrily at 5:35 a.m., crawled out of bed about eight minutes later, and then made some oatmeal. I can't eat much before a race but oatmeal seems to be working pretty well so far, as long as I have close to a couple hours to spare. Game time is 7:30 so I was on schedule. We were instructed to park in the Calvary Church lot behind the shopping center and walk down. When I arrived at 6:30 there was already a large crowd. I expected Eggers would be fashionably late as usual but figured Brinkley might be here, so I sent him a BBM. I waited a couple minutes then started walking down to the race site after not getting a response.
I went to pick up my chip, fiddled with it on my shoelaces for a good five minutes, and then took my turn in the Porta-Jon. I milled out for a bit hoping I'd find one of my boys. I figured Dave was probably already warming up, and I needed to do the same, so I gave up and headed down the greenway. Most of the crowd was back at the race expo behind Trader Joe's, or running around on the course, but I did see a few people with race numbers on their chests running down the greenway. I ran into my college teammate, Dezi Kabouris, and John Fillette on the walk down but other than that I hadn't seen anyone I knew.
I jogged down the course a bit, with about fifteen minutes til start time at this point. Here I ran into Emily Barrett, who basically summed up her feelings as follows: "Dude I am not feeling this course, man!" I wasn't really that worried about the course, but I was ready for things to get interesting. I wanted to start off slower, but not get too far behind, and then be prepared to go like heck. With a roller-coaster opening mile there was a decent chance I could start off slow and not have much left.
I got back and realized I had a 0% chance of getting a good starting spot after looking at the crowd at the line. I went to drop off my outerwear and my car keys in a bush somewhere, and it was here that I ran into a very panic-stricken Daniel Eggers and David Brinkley. It turns out they had thought the race started at 8 and as a result were just now arriving. It's always something with those two. They tried to get in as much of a warmup as possible, and I did some striders while the race director said a few words.
I felt like staying away from the crowd at the line did wonders for my nerves; I was able to get loose, think about strategy, and politely explain to my body what I was about to put it through, which was preferable to standing around surrounded by 600 people and listening to some dude talk. However, in the future I'm just going to have to shove my way through before the start, because I now faced a situation that was not quite desirable: I was standing on the sidewalk, elevated from the pack, with a set of cones, some wire, and a box directly in front of me. There were 75 people directly to my left and another 500-plus behind them. Going around the outside before the start wasn't an option because we have to cross the timing mats. I wasn't worried that my time would be affected, because the chip doesn't register until we cross the line, and it's the chip time that's official. But I was worried about knocking someone down or tripping over a cable.
The race director gave the starting command for the baby joggers - I had forgotten about them - and forty-five or so seconds later gave the command for the rest of us. What happened next was pure chaos, at least for me. I sidestepped a cone, jumped down off the sidewalk right in front of someone, nudged the person in front of me, and hurdled a small child. THEN, I crossed the timing mats and pressed "start" on my watch. I found a little bit of space but in front of me I also found massive amounts of people who had no interest whatsoever in starting off at 6:00 pace, which is what I had in mind. I thought about getting back on the sidewalk and passing as many people as possible, and when Eggers did exactly that right in front of me, I followed him. We darted back into the crowd, ahead of about 30 more people, and then crossed Elm Lane.
I passed Dezi - at least I think it was her - and slid in behind Dave and some other guy up yet another hill. "Hey Dave," I said, "do you realize this is our first race together?" He said, "yeahhh man" in a tone that suggested he wasn't interested in talking to me at the moment. Imagine that? I had finally managed to program my Garmin to show my "total average pace" instead of "instant pace," and I looked down at it to see I was averaging about 5:50 pace. I slowed down some, or to put it more clearly, the next giant hill I ran up slowed me down, and then I settled into a groove. My Garmin beeped before the mile marker and read "6:01." I knew it would be foolish to try to hang with Eggers and Dave at this point, but they were still right in front of me. I was racing with a couple of older guys, one guy about my age - and one guy dressed in a kilt. When we came to a downhill I let my long legs go and passed about 6 people; when we went back up the hill I faded a bit and they all passed me back. And that's how it would go for the next mile or so.
We looped around a curve on Bevington, and up ahead I could see the fluid motion of Daniel Eggers' stride leading this pack of about 20 around the turn and - you guessed it - up another hill. The Garmin now read 6:04 average pace and I was still feeling all right but my mind started playing tricks on me - the guessing game where one wonders if it's really worth all this trouble just to break 19 minutes. Right about that time the guy in the kilt passed me again, and I made up my mind about something: regardless of what happened from here on out, there was no effing way I was going to lose to a guy in a kilt.
We stepped off Bevington and into another neighborhood and down another hill. As we prepared to climb again I made a point not let anyone pass me this time. There was a man who looked to be in his late forties that had been racing with us the whole time, and I motioned with my right arm for him to come join me at the crest of this hill. I heard him say, "I'll get there when I can." We turned back on Bevington, side-by-side, and exchanged words of encouragement with less than half a mile to go (at least that's what I thought...). Up, down, up hills we went and I let him get ahead of me. There were several people within reach and I knew we had a downhill coming. I relaxed briefly...and then dropped the hammer. I flew past the older guy and about six or eight other people and then began bearing down on Danielle Crockford. My mind knew that I had to turn into the shopping center before the finish, but my body and my Garmin thought the race was over. My sprint down the hill sapped me. The older guy and about three other people I had passed scooted right on by me. I limped into the finish and hit the stop button on my watch.
As I composed myself and handed in my chip, I noticed everyone around me talking about how their Garmins measured the course long - some by as much as a tenth of a mile - and that there was no need for us to turn in to the shopping center. For whatever reason, the consensus was that the course was a little long. I wanted to break 19 minutes and actually ran 19:08, so I was not pleased with this new information. I quickly realized, however, that even if this was a true 5k I had still run faster than I did a week ago - on a course that's much tougher than McAlpine, to boot. So I was pretty happy. I cooled down with Eggers, Brinkley, Billy Shue, and Richard Harris (Eggers eventually thought it necessary to dart off in the woods ahead of us, for some reason).
The buzz surrounded this race - and the GPX series, in general - could not be denied. There was a palpable excitement in the air, and I made a note of this as I thought about my immediate future. The next race is June 4, and I will be there. I'm either going to need a haircut or a headband between now and then, and apparently I need a CRC singlet so Jamaar Valentine will take my picture. 'Til next time, folks.
Race Results
Garmin details
Warmup: 2.30 mi in 18:05/8:05 ppm
Race: Unofficially but according to the Garmin - 3.16 mi in 19:07/6:02 ppm; officially 19:08, 32nd overall/12th in age group.
Cooldown: 3.37 mi in 32:22/9:35 ppm
I woke up angrily at 5:35 a.m., crawled out of bed about eight minutes later, and then made some oatmeal. I can't eat much before a race but oatmeal seems to be working pretty well so far, as long as I have close to a couple hours to spare. Game time is 7:30 so I was on schedule. We were instructed to park in the Calvary Church lot behind the shopping center and walk down. When I arrived at 6:30 there was already a large crowd. I expected Eggers would be fashionably late as usual but figured Brinkley might be here, so I sent him a BBM. I waited a couple minutes then started walking down to the race site after not getting a response.
I went to pick up my chip, fiddled with it on my shoelaces for a good five minutes, and then took my turn in the Porta-Jon. I milled out for a bit hoping I'd find one of my boys. I figured Dave was probably already warming up, and I needed to do the same, so I gave up and headed down the greenway. Most of the crowd was back at the race expo behind Trader Joe's, or running around on the course, but I did see a few people with race numbers on their chests running down the greenway. I ran into my college teammate, Dezi Kabouris, and John Fillette on the walk down but other than that I hadn't seen anyone I knew.
I jogged down the course a bit, with about fifteen minutes til start time at this point. Here I ran into Emily Barrett, who basically summed up her feelings as follows: "Dude I am not feeling this course, man!" I wasn't really that worried about the course, but I was ready for things to get interesting. I wanted to start off slower, but not get too far behind, and then be prepared to go like heck. With a roller-coaster opening mile there was a decent chance I could start off slow and not have much left.
I got back and realized I had a 0% chance of getting a good starting spot after looking at the crowd at the line. I went to drop off my outerwear and my car keys in a bush somewhere, and it was here that I ran into a very panic-stricken Daniel Eggers and David Brinkley. It turns out they had thought the race started at 8 and as a result were just now arriving. It's always something with those two. They tried to get in as much of a warmup as possible, and I did some striders while the race director said a few words.
I felt like staying away from the crowd at the line did wonders for my nerves; I was able to get loose, think about strategy, and politely explain to my body what I was about to put it through, which was preferable to standing around surrounded by 600 people and listening to some dude talk. However, in the future I'm just going to have to shove my way through before the start, because I now faced a situation that was not quite desirable: I was standing on the sidewalk, elevated from the pack, with a set of cones, some wire, and a box directly in front of me. There were 75 people directly to my left and another 500-plus behind them. Going around the outside before the start wasn't an option because we have to cross the timing mats. I wasn't worried that my time would be affected, because the chip doesn't register until we cross the line, and it's the chip time that's official. But I was worried about knocking someone down or tripping over a cable.
The race director gave the starting command for the baby joggers - I had forgotten about them - and forty-five or so seconds later gave the command for the rest of us. What happened next was pure chaos, at least for me. I sidestepped a cone, jumped down off the sidewalk right in front of someone, nudged the person in front of me, and hurdled a small child. THEN, I crossed the timing mats and pressed "start" on my watch. I found a little bit of space but in front of me I also found massive amounts of people who had no interest whatsoever in starting off at 6:00 pace, which is what I had in mind. I thought about getting back on the sidewalk and passing as many people as possible, and when Eggers did exactly that right in front of me, I followed him. We darted back into the crowd, ahead of about 30 more people, and then crossed Elm Lane.
I passed Dezi - at least I think it was her - and slid in behind Dave and some other guy up yet another hill. "Hey Dave," I said, "do you realize this is our first race together?" He said, "yeahhh man" in a tone that suggested he wasn't interested in talking to me at the moment. Imagine that? I had finally managed to program my Garmin to show my "total average pace" instead of "instant pace," and I looked down at it to see I was averaging about 5:50 pace. I slowed down some, or to put it more clearly, the next giant hill I ran up slowed me down, and then I settled into a groove. My Garmin beeped before the mile marker and read "6:01." I knew it would be foolish to try to hang with Eggers and Dave at this point, but they were still right in front of me. I was racing with a couple of older guys, one guy about my age - and one guy dressed in a kilt. When we came to a downhill I let my long legs go and passed about 6 people; when we went back up the hill I faded a bit and they all passed me back. And that's how it would go for the next mile or so.
We looped around a curve on Bevington, and up ahead I could see the fluid motion of Daniel Eggers' stride leading this pack of about 20 around the turn and - you guessed it - up another hill. The Garmin now read 6:04 average pace and I was still feeling all right but my mind started playing tricks on me - the guessing game where one wonders if it's really worth all this trouble just to break 19 minutes. Right about that time the guy in the kilt passed me again, and I made up my mind about something: regardless of what happened from here on out, there was no effing way I was going to lose to a guy in a kilt.
We stepped off Bevington and into another neighborhood and down another hill. As we prepared to climb again I made a point not let anyone pass me this time. There was a man who looked to be in his late forties that had been racing with us the whole time, and I motioned with my right arm for him to come join me at the crest of this hill. I heard him say, "I'll get there when I can." We turned back on Bevington, side-by-side, and exchanged words of encouragement with less than half a mile to go (at least that's what I thought...). Up, down, up hills we went and I let him get ahead of me. There were several people within reach and I knew we had a downhill coming. I relaxed briefly...and then dropped the hammer. I flew past the older guy and about six or eight other people and then began bearing down on Danielle Crockford. My mind knew that I had to turn into the shopping center before the finish, but my body and my Garmin thought the race was over. My sprint down the hill sapped me. The older guy and about three other people I had passed scooted right on by me. I limped into the finish and hit the stop button on my watch.
 |
| Hitting the watch before crossing the mats...is bad form! |
As I composed myself and handed in my chip, I noticed everyone around me talking about how their Garmins measured the course long - some by as much as a tenth of a mile - and that there was no need for us to turn in to the shopping center. For whatever reason, the consensus was that the course was a little long. I wanted to break 19 minutes and actually ran 19:08, so I was not pleased with this new information. I quickly realized, however, that even if this was a true 5k I had still run faster than I did a week ago - on a course that's much tougher than McAlpine, to boot. So I was pretty happy. I cooled down with Eggers, Brinkley, Billy Shue, and Richard Harris (Eggers eventually thought it necessary to dart off in the woods ahead of us, for some reason).
The buzz surrounded this race - and the GPX series, in general - could not be denied. There was a palpable excitement in the air, and I made a note of this as I thought about my immediate future. The next race is June 4, and I will be there. I'm either going to need a haircut or a headband between now and then, and apparently I need a CRC singlet so Jamaar Valentine will take my picture. 'Til next time, folks.
Race Results
Garmin details
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