I checked in and received bib #14. Not a prime number, but it looked like a good sign nonetheless: the race was being run on August 14th, which is also my dad’s birthday. So for Dad’s 82nd birthday (holy cr@p!), I ran a 5k. If you read my blog entry about last week’s Fasig-Tipton 5k, you were briefly introduced to Regina, who at 83 is still running local races; she also ran today’s 5k. (I saw her standing near the starting line, so I went over to say hello, introduce myself and tell her how inspiring it was to watch her finish the Fasig-Tipton 5k. She was very gracious and asked me a couple of questions about the 5k’s I’ve run. She was very encouraging when I told her this was my first year as a runner. After the race, she actually sought me out to ask me how I did. Gotta love her!)
I climbed the long, steep hill from Brookside Museum up to the level ground next to the County Fairgrounds that would be our starting point. I was exceedingly thankful not to have to run up that hill. I think I owe my finish time in large part to the fact that we ran down that hill at the end.
I had changed a few things from my traditional routine: instead of wearing my bright green racing shirt, I opted for running togs I wore for the Freihofer’s Run for Women. I also didn’t have my pre-race nanner (since the one I brought looked like it was never going to ripen) and I decided to leave my lucky hat in the car. I have reached the point where I didn’t need to rely on things like that. In a distance race, you make your own luck with the preparations you do (or don’t do, as the case may be); everything else is up to the weather and the topography. And lucky hat or no lucky hat, there ain’t nothing any of us can do about weather or topography except prepare for it.
The course for today’s 5k was listed as “flat and fast.” Since I hadn’t reconnoitered the course, I took them at their word. Well, apparently, they must have meant “flat” as in “small-breasted,” while I considered “flat” to mean “Gumby” (and no, “small-breasted” and “Gumby” are not identical). The terrain turned out to fit their definition more than mine. To the kids, young adults and anyone who is used to running distance races, I’m sure the course felt flat. I, on the other hand, have eyes and a pair of hips that are all too eager to inform me immediately whenever there is a change in grade, no matter how slight. (I swear, there’s a very distinct voice in my head that starts screaming, “Ohmygod!!! That’s a HILL! How is there a goddamned HILL on a flat-and-fast course?!?!?!?)
After last week’s Fasig-Tipton 5k (which featured two nasty little hill surprises for me), I stopped in Ballston Spa on the way home to see if I could scope out the course, but was unable to locate a course map online. The only information I saw stated that the course went out to the correctional facility and back. (A course map was posted at some point between the last time I checked and this morning. That map indicates the turnaround point is at the county jail.) I asked my sister where the correctional facility was (which in no way should be interpreted to mean that my sister is more acquainted than I am with convicted felons; she’s just been in that section of Ballston Spa more than I have). She replied, “WHAT correctional facility???” At the starting line (in reality, just two small traffic cones) across from the Saratoga County Fairgrounds, we were advised that this would be a straight out-and-back course, with the turnaround point (and water station) located at the animal shelter. Ahhhhhhh…so “correctional facility”/“county jail” (the “jailhouse” of the Jailhouse Rock 5k) was a pokey for pets, not peeps. 10 points for cuteness. I smiled not only at the joke itself, but at the fact that this past Thursday, I adopted a four-month-old Chihuahua mix (with the “mix” part being, in all likelihood, Miniature Pincher and/or Dachsund) from my local humane society.
I ran this 5k in honor of my little canine anti-depressants, Diva and Tessie. In a rather strange twist of fate, I had gone to the animal shelter to see about a much larger dog, Crystal, that I’d seen at the Mohawk Hudson Humane Society table at this past week’s “Bark in the Park” at the Joe Bruno Stadium (home of the Tri-City Valley Cats, the Houston Astros’ Single-A affiliate in the New York-Penn League) in Troy. I thought Crystal would make a great running partner, but of course I needed to see how she and Diva would get along. Although Crystal is a great dog and will be a terrific addition to the right family, she just wasn’t right for Diva, so that means she wasn’t right for me and Diva. While I was there, I figured it couldn’t hurt to inquire about much smaller dogs that might be available. I was introduced to a Chi mix who looked like Crystal’s mini-me. (I momentarily considered naming her Crystal Light, but my sensible [read: Boston Red Sox fan] side held sway.) That little doggie came home with me and is now known to the world as Tessie. We’ve got some issues to work through (housetraining and some minor aggression issues that need to be nipped in the bud), but all things considered, she’s a terrific addition to the family.
We had a great day for a jailbreak…er, I mean a 5k race. Several sections of the road were nicely shaded by obliging trees. Even though the morning’s temperatures were moderate (low- to mid-60s) and the humidity was low, running under bright sunshine is always exhausting. I suspect it has something to do with the “running” part.
I started out very relaxed and had no problems with getting my breathing cadence right. Granted, I was slow, but I’m always slow in a road race. I take it as a good sign that by the time we got to the turnaround point at the animal shelter, I was thinking, “Wow, halfway already?” A few very kind folks were sitting in Adirondack chairs on their front lawn, cheering us as we passed and ringing cowbells. God, how I love a good cowbell. The course itself was fairly uneventful, with a couple of small rolling hills that presented rather more challenge than I anticipated. I saw a police car pull onto the road and turn on its flashing lights, so I knew the lead runner was about to pass me on the return. Several of the runners coming back cheered on those of us on our way toward the halfway mark. This is the kind of behavior you see “paid forward” in a race. People who’ve never met and who only have today’s race in common periodically high-fived and shouted encouragement to runners heading in the opposite direction.
As I emerged from the turnaround point, I saw flashing lights well into the distance down the road. I assumed it was the escort vehicle (in this case, an ambulance) behind the last runner. As I kept running, it seemed as though the rescue wasn’t moving. I wondered for a moment if someone was hurt and immediately wondered if Regina was OK. Well…HAH! In a minute, I saw that the ambulance was, in fact, moving…with a now-familiar figure chugging along slowly in front: Regina! (Her name means “Queen,” after all…it’s only fitting that she be accompanied by an august retinue.) I cheered her on as I passed her, blew a kiss to the two guys in the rescue vehicle, thanked them and told them to take good care of our girl. See? There’s a benefit to my running so slowly: I had time to say all of that. Granted, not in one breath…
When I passed the 2-mile marker, I tried to psych myself up and stay at a good pace, knowing that my last 1/4mi would be a downward incline. The runner in front of me, a guy with a red beard and long ponytail, checked his watch as he passed the marker. I’ll admit I was tempted to check my watch, but since I was already running as hard as I could sustain, I figured there wasn’t any point. I was going to finish when I was going to finish. There was no doubt in my mind that I was leaving everything I had on the course.
Approaching the final turn, there weren’t any visible a$$es in front of me and I realized that I wasn’t sure where to go, so I pointed to where I thought the course went, essentially miming to the course marshals, “Do I go that-a-way?” They confirmed my suddenly surprising directional capability and I was relieved to know that I was almost finished.
Once the downhill part started, I picked up velocity pretty quickly. I wanted to just go with the momentum all the way, but the decline was steep enough that I actually had to slow down a bit just to maintain control and not shred my knees from the inside. As I approached the finish line, I could see the time was just over 35 minutes, but I didn’t know if I would be fast enough to PR. For some reason, I had it in my head that my best finish was 35:25 in the Silks & Satins 5k in Saratoga (two races ago), so when I crossed the finish line at 35:31, I was a bit disappointed at missing a PR by a measly seven seconds. I immediately began thinking about sections where I had eased off a bit on the flat(ish) part of the course, wondering where I had cost myself those seven precious seconds (probably on one of those rolling hills that comprised the “ish” part of “flat(ish)”). It wasn’t until after I got home and was updating my race results tab on my Facebook profile that I realized my previous PR was 36:32, so I had, in fact, PR’ed at this race! Granted, I PR’ed by one little second, but that’s all it takes! (Technically, they time to one hundredth of a second.) As is often the case, the timing chips all turn “on” at the same time, so it is only to one’s advantage to start right at the start line. H-E-double-hockey-sticks, Regina started right smack on the start line and I don’t see anyone having issues with that.
We were greeted at the finish line by The King (young, cool, lean, handsome Elvis…not old, out-of-shape, bloated Vegas Elvis).I enjoyed the momentary realization that the kid in the Elvis costume wasn’t even old enough to remember when Elvis died, much less remembering Elvis as a living, breathing, TV-shooting, peanut-butter-and-banana-sandwich-nomming human being.
I eagerly accepted a bottle of water from a volunteer at the finish line while another volunteer cut my racing chip off my shoe, and then I headed back along the sidelines toward the finish line to wait for Regina. It would take another 14 minutes, but there she was, her EMT escorts still flashing the ambulance lights behind her. We erupted into applause and raucous cheers as she crossed the finish line. She was preceded by perhaps three dozen runners, including a very young girl (maybe six or seven years old) who kicked in the afterburners so hard about 25 yards from the finish line that I momentarily worried she might fall down from the momentum (thankfully, she did not) and who crossed the finish line to a loud chorus of cheers from the assembled spectators, most of whom had already run the race. I also saw a woman whom I had passed on the way back from the “correctional facility”; I found out after the race that her name was Michelle and this was her fourth 5k. She was later joined by a friend who was running her first 5k.
After the race was over, various items were raffled off, including fried ice cream, candy, Avon products and sports detergent. One of the prizes was a package of New York Yankees Silly Bandz…and I desperately hoped that I did not win that prize. Even the announcer said, “This is tough for me, since I’m a Red Sox fan.” You bet your sweet bippy I piped in with, “Yeah! Go Red Sox!” So when one of the prizes (a canvas soft-sided cooler with a little fleece blanket in one compartment) went to #14, the announcer said, “All right! RED SOX!!!” when he saw me come up to claim my prize. We paused briefly for a photo and then I headed back to the crowd to see the awards for the top finishers, many of whom would be awarded baked goods (clearly in an attempt to fatten them up for the next race, thus slowing them down…I like this idea). As I was getting ready to head back to my car, Regina caught up with me, asked me how I finished and we chatted for a moment.
So the spoils of war for today totaled thus: a reusable black shopping bag, courtesy of State Farm Insurance, a cool T-shirt that I absolutely will wear to dinner tonight, the nifty cooler with fleece throw (picnic with Chi’s and cheese, I’m thinking)…and a personal record of 35:31!!! And for all of that (especially the PR), I have no problem finishing last in my division; after all, somebody’s got to!
I was grateful for the fair weather, since the week leading up to the race was filled with steep ups and downs, not enough hydration and appallingly far too few training miles (a whopping three; I don’t think I’ve ever run a 5k with only three miles of training for the week). I have no plans whatsoever to leave my next race to chance like that. Fortunately, I have three weeks until my next 5k. I will no longer include “running it all” in my 5k goals, since I have now proven to myself enough times that I am perfectly capable of running all 3.1 miles. I’m batting .667 in that department, so I can safely put those concerns behind me. That leaves a time goal, and I’m going to be ambitious (especially since I don’t know what topographical “surprises” await me in the next 5k) and make my goal sub-:35. There’s no question in my mind that it’s achievable; it’s simply a matter of doing the work and putting the miles on my running shoes.
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