Disclaimer: A friend of mine once said that "The only thing worse than watching golf is listening to someone recount their latest round of golf." If you believe what my friend said about golf to also be true about things such as fantasy football, fishing and running, then you might want to skip the following post. Seriously, feel free, I won't be offended.
Back before the turn of the century in the mid 90s my Army battalion signed up to run the Sound to Narrows 12K Run (S2N). All be it under some compulsion, it was a good introduction to what I think is one of the best races in the country. Though I left the Army in 1998, I kept the running, in no small part because of the Sound to Narrows. Erin and I began running the race together after we returned from Atlanta in 2003 and have continued to do so almost every year since. My closet is full of t-shirt evidence.
Some people exercise to lose weight. Some people exercise to be healthier. Some people exercise for the endorphin rush and some people exercise because Richard Simmon's tells them to. It is not a flabby stomach, not good health and not even endorphins but the desire to do well on the S2N that gets me out of bed to run on cold March mornings. It is my annual test of health. If I can run it in under an hour then I feel I'm keeping the doctors away. And if I really want to feel good about myself then I'll beat my personal record.
So sitting in the middle of a sabbatical, I thought, this may be the year I beat my best time. Hopes were high. With a few weeks left to race time, I knew from my training that I wasn't going to set a personal best, but I still hoped to beat an hour. As Erin was out with planter fascias, it was just Jeremy Doty and myself who drove to the race together. My hamstring had been feeling a little tight the previous few weeks so I tried to loosen and warm it up. Hamstrings are fickle creatures and mine are the ficklest. On more than one occasion they've yelled at me, usually while running to first while playing softball. They yelled so much I quit softball, but now they'd started to whine while running. Oh hammy's what will make you happy?
Finally the race started and the hordes descended the hill. The first part of the race is great because its all down hill. A few years ago I made the mistake of letting loose. I usually run around an 8:00 mile, but by the second mile I was averaging 6:30/mile. I knew then I was either going to have the greatest time I'd ever had or barely finish. I'll let you guess which it was. On this day I held back and was at a nice 7:15 pace at 2 miles. This was good, but then the hammy started whining. Actually it sort of screamed, not a pop, but more like a bubble ran across the back of my leg. I pulled up, and it quieted down. I slowed my pace and was okay for another mile. I started to feel good enough that I pushed the gas a little - Yelp! There it went again and I pulled up. This happened three more times over the next mile. By the fourth mile I seriously began to wonder if I could even finish let alone beat an hour. I decided to really slow it down and just try to finish. I watched as people almost twice my age and 1/3 my age; people twice my weight and half my weight passed me. A version of a Clash song ran through my brain, "Should I slow or should I go now? If I slow there will be trouble, if I go it could be double." My lungs said go, but my legs said slow.
Letting up helped so halfway through the 5th mile I decided to stretch it out. Bit by bit I increased my stride and the hammy remained quiet. At mile six I looked at my watch, and it read 46:30. I still had a chance. If I could run this last 1.4 miles at an 8 minute pace then I'd beat an hour. Only problem was our nice downhill start was now an uphill finish. I continued with the masses heaving, lumbering, huffing and puffing up that hill. At mile seven my watch read 55:30 and I knew I was going to beat an hour as long as the hammies remained quiet. Lo and behold, like babies in a rocking stroller they must have fallen asleep because I was able to finish the last .4 miles in 3:27 and finish the race at 59:10.
And thus another year where I can still feel good about my health. I think I'll put that over 40 physical off again. And next year, look out Mark Spadoni, I'm gunning for 14th in the Male 40-44 category. JB Gilchrist, you can probably relax.
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