My summer and early fall training centered around this race and was, for the most part, fairly consistent. However, this race presented several challenges. The most obvious one was the distance. It has been 6½ years since my last half marathon. Not only have I not raced at this distance, I have not even trained at it. The second challenge will be the course. The race will be held in Falmouth, MA, and it will not be your basic out-and-back or loop run. This beast will follow a twisty, maze-like pattern among the streets on the south side of the city, adjacent to the waterfront. The third challenge will be a general lack of familiarity with the logistics of the race itself. You can study the maps and the race information all you want, but until you actually experience a race, you can not get a feel for the little things that you need to think about, like traffic patterns, course guides, and the all-important port-a-john availability. This will also be the first race I have ever run while listening to satellite radio, my beloved Tottenham Hotspur is kicking off at just about the time the race starts, so I am counting on this being a pleasant distraction to the anticipated pain.
I left the house early, anticipating heavy traffic on the Bourne Bridge due to construction. Finding none, I arrive at the designated parking lot at around 6:30, 90 minutes before the start of the race. I was surprised to find the parking lot about three-quarters full, and even more surprised to see many out-of-state license plates. It would be foolish to start warming up this early, so I simply take to observing some of my fellow runners' pre-race preparations. It is encouraging to see that my choice of Nike running shorts and a long-sleeved New Balance shirt seem to be more or less in line with what everyone else is wearing. I even catch a couple of runners applying anti-chaffing lube. No, I did not forget this important hack, thank goodness. The porta-johns next to the parking lot were a nice touch, one which I took full advantage of.
At about 7:20, I started to warm up. Warming up for a longer race can be unnerving, on one hand, you want your body to be properly fine-tuned so you have no issues, especially at the beginning of the race. On the other hand, you full well know that this is a long distance, and you are going to need all of your reserves to avoid a DNF. I decided a run behind the school at the starting line might work, so I put in a very slow half-mile. There was a pond directly behind the small path, abutted by a wooded area so you could only catch small glimpses of the pond itself. I was surprised and bewildered to find fellow runners jumping out of the woods and disrupting my warmup, it would only take about fifteen minutes to figure out why.
All warmed up with the nerves starting to hit, I hit the porta-john line in front of the school. Long lines at the porta-johns before a race are common, however these lines were going slow. As in barely moving at all. Inspired by both the race DJ counting down the minutes to the opening gun, and pressure from my 62-year-old bladder, I chose to give the porta-johns near the parking lot a shot. During the slow jog, the light bulb goes off in my head, and I suddenly realize that those runners jumping from the woods were seeking privacy to avoid the lines. Smart idea, time to take the cue. Seeing a small path and a female runner exiting from said path, the location is found and the deed is done. I am also stoked to find that, upon leaving, I am close to the start line.
The starting pen stretches around the entire circular driveway, at which I am at the rear. Nothing has been said about starting pens or splitting the start into several groups, but guess what? While I can understand the logic behind lagging at the start, I am now somewhat concerned that I will not make the 11:00 cutoff. Whether or not there is a hard cutoff, or if it is just when the police detail packs it in and reopens the course to vehicular traffic, or if there is no cutoff at all, I do not know. Anyway, I am in the front of the line in the fourth wave, so I try not to look nervous for any race photos, and after a couple of minutes, BANG, and off we go.
The first four miles of the course is a basic loop around Salt Pond, with a solid mile being run on the Shining Sea Bikeway. Things are going well, my pace is slightly above a twelve-minute mile, I have not caused any pile-ups with the run/walk/run method, I am in general feeling good both physically and mentally, and that pre-start "nature call" is paying off as I am flying by the porta-john lines. I even had time to snap these photos of Nantucket Sound and Martha's Vineyard.
You are going to have to take my word that Martha's Vineyard is in these photos. It was hazy and humid for an early October day, but at this point, weather was not a huge factor.
Going around Inner Harbor at about the five-mile mark is when things start to go slightly south. This is where some of the elite runners were heading in the opposite direction, heading for the finish line. I get the whole "you are competing only against your sixty-two-year-old self" dynamic, but seeing not only these runners on the homestretch but the crowd reacting to them was a little deflating. Still, I am about on pace to finish at my goal time and there are plenty of folks behind me, so head down and keep plugging.
Miles six through eight see the run enter the opposite side of Inner Harbor, along Falmouth Heights Beach, and finally the turn around at Vineyard Road. This is where the scenery turns to an upscale beach community, complete with lodging, nice houses, and even a youth soccer field where I had previously coached. It's here that the first significant hill is encountered, coming into sight after a sharp turn. I am holding on to an under eight-minute kilometer pace up until about mile eight. Both a rapidly increasing average heart rate and poor timing at a water station dropped to 8:30km at kilometer 15. My legs are starting to feel heavy, and my discipline of sticking to the 60/30 run/walk/run is starting to wear thin.
At the 15-kilometer mark, the course took a sharp right and hooked around on what looked like a sort of boulevard with a divider splitting the two sides of the street. This was the last stretch that I followed the run/walk/run with any consistency. This part of the course is kind of odd; you had to run with traffic, there were several four-way intersections, the crossover involved cutting over the street divider (problematic after ten miles of running), and once you finished this segment, it felt like you had not made any progress. Anyway, a quick right, a stop at the porta-john, a walk up the last hill, and it's in the rearview mirror.
I am at 2:13 at the 17-kilometer mark, and things fall apart rather rapidly. I know I am bonking, but I also know that I have about 2½ miles left, and even if I proceed at a fast walk for the rest of the race, I should be able to keep it under three hours. I am excited to pass some of the landmarks around Inner Harbor that I saw on the way out, albeit that passing is now much slower. I am also noticing that the bulk of the spectators has disappeared so that the extra energy of cheering crowds can no longer be tapped. I have no plan b; I am either going as far as I can on 60/30, going 30/30, or sometimes just skipping the run portion altogether. One mile to go at the end of Inner Harbor.
The right unto Clinton lifts my spirits, and my last two splits have been just over 8:00km pace, so with a little over a kilometer to go, I start to get back into the 60/30 rhythm. This street is all residential, so no real landmarks, but I did appreciate the Eversourse worker at Allen Ave. encouraging me to keep going, The last right to the finish line was about one-half mile, I thought I could plow through but I did need a couple of walk breaks. Upon seeing Main Street, I knew I made it, so a fake sprint (which must have looked like the slow-motion scene in Chariots of Fire) was in order. Arms raised for the photo, I crossed in 2:48:37. Police detail still intact, and my slow goal is made!
I spent more time than usual at the post-race party, downing copious amounts of water, soup, and bananas. However, soreness sets in, so after some poor stretching, I head back to the car. But not before a finish line photo, complete with one of those shiny blanket things.
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| It's Superman! |
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