Stretching with just minutes until race start
With every race I do my best to internalize a new lesson that I can take to improve my performance at my next event. I learned several at this local 10km, but above all the most important was to not sleep somewhere comfortable. I woke up to darkness and heavy rain at 6:30am while completely ensconsed in the comfort only a flannel-wrapped memory foam mattress covered by a heavy blanket could provide. It was almost impossible to get out of bed. Next race, it's a plywood board and a space blanket.
Against all odds, I was up and out of bed shortly 20 minutes after my alarm went off to grab a quick, very light breakfast and make my way down to race check in. My father, whose mostly responsible for getting me into triathlon (he signed us up as a relay for the Escape From Alcatraz triathlon, which we made a tradition) proved to be a champion as he not only drove me down at 7am, but returned to take pre-race photos and gather up my warm-up clothes.
Being larger in stature than the average endurance athlete, I may still run modest splits but I'm at least warm doing so. Despite making for a damp warm-up, I was relatively immune to the cold compared to my competition and felt that the weather offered the comfort of a shower despite the pain of actually racing.
After picking up my race T-shirt and dropping off my cans of food for the local food bank, I headed down to the race start area for a quick warm-up. It was there that I met Rhys, who, in addition to his rugged good looks, is a very serious neo-pro cyclist and one of my closest friends. Rhys was running the 5km race with his dad, and their company kept me in good spirits despite the poor weather.
Rhys and his father proving it's not how fast you are, it's how good you look that matters most.
As the pre-race countdown moved inexorably towards zero, the rain-jacket clad huddled masses emerged from the quaint downtown Gig Harbor surroundings to converge on the starting line. My Dad would later say that, when the 10km gun went off, approximately 50 of the 1,800 gathered took off, the remaining individuals choosing instead to celebrate thanksgiving with the 5km race.
After standing in the poor weather longer than I would've liked, the race finally began.
Here I'm the red-shoed, blue blur just right of center. Unfortunately, this is the only time during the race that I would appear as a blur, as apparently my pacing strategy was to start off slow and then taper off.
The course would circumnavigate the picturesque harbor before doing a quick turnaround on the peninsula which forms the opposite shore. Growing up in such a quiet town, the only thing to really do was either drink or run high-mileage, and fortunately, I chose the latter. Subsequently I had just about every road in the harbor memorized and could recall every foot of it, except, unfortunately, for the uphills I forgot.
The course started out with an approximately 200 yard incline leading to a long decline and the rolling remainder of the course. My goal was a sub-40 minute time, nothing terribly quick for this point in the year with the winter emphasis on accumulating base miles.
I held a pretty good position within the field, about 10th, through the first 2 miles until we hit the most significant hill leading out of a valley past city park. Not wanting to overload my legs early on, I took it pretty easy and let a group ahead of me get away. The rolling hills continued to the out and back, with short but surprisingly steep ascents and descents making it difficult to hold a steady pace.
After circling back on the peninsula, we made our way back to the little valley by city park and up the other side to where the 5km race turnaround was situated. The race organizers impressed me with two water stations on the course, but I wasn't feeling either of them. I did feel a little frustration of having to dodge my way through the mass of individuals walking the 5km, with errant dogs on leashes and unleashed small children making it more of an obstacle course than I would expect. But at the modest pace I was running I can't complain about others holding me up, and I soon found myself with just a half-mile to the finish.
At this point, another younger runner (high-school age) pulled up alongside me and, in a great gesture of friendliness and sportsmanship, proclaimed, "Almost there!" I said something that now sounds lame, but to the effect of, "Let's do this!" and we both put the hammer down. Only, we weren't running too quickly, so it was more of a ball-peen hammer than an actual, you know, mallet.
Soaking wet, but happy, at the finish
Nevertheless, we maintained a solid pace to the finish, overtook another runner or two, and made it in with a solid time.
As I ran towards the finish chute I saw my dad right there. He'd spent the intermittent time serving as a volunteer, which is a strong testament to his character. I also got to catch up with a great friend from high school and cool off in the light rain.
I was surprised at how closely my finishing time mirrored my splits from the Oly tri's this summer. At just a minute faster, that means I ran those races well or this one poorly (likely a combination of both), but this race gives me a solid baseline against which I can judge my progress throughout the year as I focus on running.
I also need to post the race's logo again because it's just that awesome.
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