The Caesar Rodney 1/2 in DE was a last minute add on to the 2012 schedule because it was just a few hours away and would check off a state. As race day approached and I was fighting off the bronchitis the question lingered as to whether I'd run or walk it, but the decision to go never waivered. A last minute decision was made to add a visit to the Hard Rock Cafe Atlantic City (just an hour and 45 mins from Wilmington) to the trip in order to check off another shot glass. Given the size of the race (rather small) and the fact that there was no "expo" and packet pickup race morning was fine, we headed to Atlantic City on Saturday, only to discovered the HRC was located inside a casino (big surprise for Atlantic City, right?). I don't care for gambling (my Dad taught me a valuable lesson early on betting on Connect Four and losing several weeks of allowance after a winning streak and a lot of 'double or nothing'), but Paul does enjoy the slots. As we ate Garret asked if he could go in the "arcade" after dinner and I got to explain the concept of casinos and gambling to a seven year old...interesting to say the least. After we finished dessert Garret and I went out on the boardwalk to burn some energy while Paul hit the slots. Within 10 minutes he had hit twice and won a total of $570; and it had started pouring running while Garret and I were on the beach, forcing us to sprint back to the casino but not before getting soaking wet. I texted Paul that we were ready to leave and off we went to Wilmington.
Race morning dawned a dreary, damp, cold day. I donned my trashbag and headed to the start line 2 blocks away. The 5K was just starting as I approached and the cannon fire to start startled me - to say the least. I easily found "packet pickup" which was one of the half a dozen tents set up in the area and got my race number and shirt. I then grabbed a cup of water and afterwards ducked into a bus stop as the dampness turned into drizzling rain. I chatted with a few other runners about races, goals, injuries, stretches, and the like and realized quickly though it was a small race (capped at 2000 for the 5K, 1/2, and Relay total) these folks were serious runners. It seemed as though everyone was from DE or PA and as though they'd run nearly every race in both states and/or were a member of one running club or another; but everyone was very friendly and there was no intimidation factor. We headed to the start line only 10 minutes before the start. The folks surrounding me were heavily engaged in conversation about age group awards and PRs, pointing out folks to each other and commenting on their times...obviously these folks ran a lot of races togther. My mind wandered and I began to wonder if I should've had Paul bring my puffer instead of leaving it in the room...my lungs were very tight and the reflex coughing was getting irritating. Another loud cannon boom and no time to think about it, we were off. Given the small field, the serious runners, and the fact that there were no corrals we were all off like a bolt. I consciously let folks pass and tried to race my pace, but found it difficult to hit my pace with so many folks buzzing by.
The fact that I felt like crap didn't help either, but it was a bit of a loop effect...I felt bad so I didn't concentrate on my pace and race faster as the group pushed me, which made me work harder, which made me feel worse, which made me concentrate less....the first mile or so was a mental jumble of twists and turns. You definitely had plenty visually to hold your interest, but I wanted to see a straight away and have the time to fall into my rhythm....there wasn't one in sight. My lungs got tighter and tighter and I felt worse and worse. I finally caved and walked for a few seconds then tried to get back into my pace. Within the first 2 1/2 miles we finally came out of the switchbacks through small streets and approached a stadium and shopping area which we twisted and turned back and forth through but these stretches were longer between turns. I still just couldn't quite settle and the lungs just wouldn't cooperate. I was about to give up and face facts that I'd likely be walking the majority of this race as I slowed for my third or fourth walking interval. I'd barely started walking and one of the guys I'd been talking to in the bus stop at the start area ran past and offered a word of encouragement. I have NO idea what he said, but the fact that he took the time must've spurred me a bit. I shook my head and commented on my lungs being tight, then gave one final cough and started running again. There was a small hill just ahead and I figured I'd at least make it there and then walk the hill if I had to. (I'd been warned at the start that there was a hill at mile 3 and from mile 6 - 8.6 was pretty much all uphill, but I'd also heard people laughing about "these folks not knowing what hills were" so I didn't know what to expect.) The hill at mile 3 was just short enough and challenging enough with a quick turn and loop back and interesting scenario to make it good but not killer - for someone who's lungs were revolting against them - but my lack of oxygen exchange made it a bit rough. I didn't stop though. Then we turned and started down the Riverwalk. I became keenly aware of the scenery and really enjoyed the surroundings as the run and before I knew it my lungs had given up and faced the fact that I wasn't going to stop...I ran the remaining 10 miles without stopping (usually not a major accomplishment worth noting but given the bronchitis definitely note worthy). Just as we approached the end of the boardwalk we briefly went through an area that was a little sketchy...old, run down, industrial area...just before it I ran under a railroad track as a train buzzed overhead and realized that was a first and kind of neat. Then as we went through the .1 - .2 miles of sketchiness I was keenly aware that there was really no one around me...I seemed to be in the rather vast open space for a race with the nearest runners either way in front or way behind. There was a group of 8 or so men standing off to the side of the course that didn't seem to be your average "course support" and I tried REALLY hard not to judge, until I approached them and they began to yell REALLY vulgar stuff at me...I judged like crazy, realized I'd NEVER run in an area like this alone, and picked up the pace. There was absolutely no danger here as there were still plenty of runners in sight on both sides and people all around, but even though it was uncomfortable for me, it was still a point to pounder because it was a chance to run in an area I would truly never otherwise experience...and as I was thinking this I looked up and saw the street sign...Church Street. First thing in my mind was Church St back near home in Salisbury, MD....yup...about the same. As I chuckled to myself and turned the corner we hit the "main" roads with traffic backed up on all sides and cops directing. We only had a couple of miles through this area and I couldn't figure out why all the traffic...until I realized that the churches weren't actually on Church St...no, they were all on this stretch of road and there were folks lined up in the Sunday best trying to get through all of us to get to Sunday service. People were parking on the opposite side of the street and lining up to get across the runners and to their churches. Out of no where two of the cutest little girls in their fancy dresses, hats, gloves, and patent leather shoes dashed between us in a panic. It was quite a different scene than just moments before.
As we approached mile 6 I was feeling good, and I spotted Garret standing on the stoop of a little convenience store. I waved and kept going as the camera clicked away (yes, we'd stopped and bought a new camera after the other one went missing).
As I thought about the pictures that were just snapped and posting some on here I began to wonder if I'd ever mentioned why I roll my shirt like it currently was. I can't stand to run with my abs covered. It's a me thing and it has nothing to do with showing off my abs (as right now they are not show worthy by ANY stretch of the imagination!)...I just hate having someone covering them when running. I also HATE having pants on when running. During my training for my initial half I had no choice on the pants as it was dead cold winter with tons of snow and I'd freeze otherwise, and even now if it's below 40 degrees out I'll put on some pants, but overall I'm happiest in shorts and a sports bra. I'll throw on a shirt if it's cold, but I heat up quickly and as soon as I do the shirt is gone. On some particular chilly days if I can't get warm enough to loose the shirt I at least have to roll it up (like today) or I get too hot and it just irritates me (more mentally than actual physical irritation). It was also about this time that I realized my mind was ALL over the place during this run! There was definitely no zoning out and enjoying the workout. I was totally enjoying the run, but my brain was in high gear.
At the next corner we turned into a little park and started our climb. I spent the next mile or so cheering for the runner's returning as this portion was an out and back to the finish. After a particularly ancient man ran by with sweat pouring down his face and snot pouring out of his nose like a two year old with a cold I tried not to vomit and stopped looking at oncoming traffic. Seriously dude? It won't cut time off of your pace to wipe it once or do a snot rocket!
Once I stopped looking at the runners I realized what a gorgeous area we were running through and took out the phone to take pictures. As we climbed the hill there was a river gushing off to our right down a rocky cliff and trees all around us. We continued to wind and climb under railroad bridges...it was gorgeous. The rain had stopped miles ago but the air was still heavy with dampness.
There were plenty of signs with words of encourage along the roadside and a few groups of people cheering us on. The hill continued to climb but it was just challenging enough without killing ya. I began to realize which group to believe at the starting line.
We exited the park and entered a residential area with older homes that were likely quite grand in their day. They were really interesting and I was still quite enjoying this course. We then approached another park and looped completely around it. I have no idea what it was but there was a neat older tower on top overlooking the river and a gorgeous older church across the field.
Just after the tower the climb finally stopped and I mentally noted we must be at mile 8.6 Soon as I passed mile marker 9. As we closed the loop on the park and again through the residential area there was an old man standing under a freshly blooming tree playing the bagpipes...this course was definitely keeping it interesting.
Soon enough we were back in the park, headed downhill and to the finish. Running down the hill through the park I noticed even more beauty in the surroundings with bridges I hadn't paid attention to on the climb and flowers blooming alongside the road.
I was surprised at the number of people walking down the hill...after climbing it and knowing the finish line was just outside of the park I felt like a kid - carelessly bounding down the hill in a near out of control run.
Soon enough we were out of the park and nearing the finish line. I don't know if someone yelled something (as encouragement) or if there was a sign on the side of the road that gave me a clue...but I somehow suddenly knew the last half mile was uphill and expected to be tough. Ugh. I started cranking it out, at this point anxious to cross the line.
Just within sight of the line we crested the hill (you can see the top in the background of this picture) and I gave one last push to the line. I know it's not proper race etiquette to push past someone right at the finish when you aren't in a place to contend for placing, but I was ready to finish and the older guy I was closing in on was just going too slow! So, I made the faux pas of passing him right at the line...
Nobody came after we so I guess it was all good. :) I crossed the line in 2:19:58. Not bad for the way I started. Got my medal, grabbed a cup of Gatorade, was handed a nasty, cold, supposedly soft (but not) pretzel (which Garret apparently thoroughly enjoyed) and headed to the hotel to shower.
After a shower I was STARVING...so I suggested eating at Joe's Crab Shack because it was one of the places we'd passed on the Riverwalk and I thought the boys would enjoy the view and getting to see the "crankies" along the river from the old rail station. Idea was accepted and off we went before hitting the road home...did I mention how hungry I was? Crab dip, mozerella sticks, king crab, corn on the cob, and potatoes later...oh...did I mention the apple crisp ala mode?
I can't typically eat that much, but I completely enjoyed that meal. As we headed towards home I knew I'd likely repeat DE...this is a nice little race, close to home, and worth running when I'm healthy. I definitely suggest it to anyone that needs to check off DE from their 50 states list!
No comments:
Post a Comment