RISP Foot Pursuit 5K

Late April brought me back to the roads for the first time since last summer. And, just as I did back then, I’d arbitrarily decided on a goal of sub-17 for the 5K. I’d recently re-incorporated workouts into my running and haven’t been too hampered lately by the now 18-month-old hip injury (it's a toddler!), so sub-17 seemed a reasonable target.

It had been four years since I last ran the RISP Foot Pursuit, but upon arriving there were a couple familiar sites. There was the winner from four years back – Derek Jakoboski -- still looking fit and fast. And there was an old favorite – Gray Shirt Man -- who was wearing a sleeveless variation of the shirt he’d worn then, with the bold addition of Italian flag-themed running shorts. We'd soon see if he was still up to his speedy exploits at the start. (See my write-up from the 2014 rendition for historical commentary on Gray Shirt Man. Note how much more creative and humorous I was then.)

I warmed up solo along the seawall (with a couple of Schonning run-ins) and then connected with Jeff at the starting line. As always, I was relegated to the second row after too many optimistic/anxious runners squeezed in front of me. No matter, the position would help me stay conservative at the start, which is a permanent part of my plans.

Now for a quick ode to GPS watches. Some lament that we Garmin-enabled runners are a slave to the watch. We no longer run by feel, instead trusting in and relying on our watches to tell us how hard we should be going. Well, I couldn’t disagree more. Maybe it’s because I spend much of my waking hours thinking about data, but I say we should be able to use whatever information is reasonably available to us to make us better runners, as long as we know how to use it. If I could get real-time readings of my blood lactate, or electrolyte levels, or stride symmetry, and I had a way to quickly digest and make sense of it all, I absolutely would.

I say all this, because I was reminded of the importance of the GPS watch during the first mile of the race. Had I been going off feel, there’s no chance I would have happily settled into 9^th place, getting dropped by the leaders, within the first quarter mile. It wouldn’t have been until oxygen debt hit (far too soon) that my body would have sent a signal saying maybe I am out of my league. Instead, all it took were a few glances at my pace to know I’d be in trouble if I didn’t relax and run my own race. How I wish I’d had this technology in high school and college. So many excessively enthusiastic starts could have been avoided.

After roughly half a mile, I’d overtaken all but the top three runners in the race, who were well off in the distance already. Interestingly, a few of the guys I’d gone by had latched on and were running right behind me through the mile (5:25). I was feeling OK and forcing myself to lean into the downhill, which always feels surprisingly unnatural, despite being way more efficient. Shouldn’t evolution have fixed this flaw in our thinking?

With one or two guys still on me (I wouldn’t give them the courtesy of a look-back, so I am guessing based on the footfall pattern), we turned onto Boon St., and I saw that one guy ahead had been dropped by the leaders. I mistakenly assumed we’d overtake him quickly, given how suddenly he'd been gapped, but boy was I wrong.

Just after mile 2 (5:24), I caught up to the third-place guy, and we turned onto Ocean Rd. a stride apart. I was feeling fairly good after running the first two miles just ahead of goal pace, so I saw no harm in accelerating and hoping to make quick work of him. As I passed, I urged him to “hang in there,” not expecting him to take my advice. He matched my pace and stayed a few feet back for a couple hundred yards. Eventually, I could no longer hear him, but I knew he was there from the small break between cheers from spectators. We made the final turn, which leads to the interminable finishing straight along 1A. Here, again, is where the GPS watch changes everything. A quick peek reminded me that I had less than half a mile to go, not the 700 miles there appeared to be left based on how far away the finish banner looked. I crossed mile 3 (5:06) and kept accelerating. This guy wouldn’t go away. Some bystander muttered a single “wow” as I passed, and I wondered whether it was because my pursuer was sprinting so fast or because someone as old-looking as I am is in third place.

Mercifully, I crossed the line (16:39 / final 0.1 at 4:40 pace) four seconds ahead of 4^th, and well under my goal time. It was a nice confidence booster and hopefully a springboard to faster times this summer and fall. All that said, it was slower than my younger self ran in 2014, so there's still work to do.

Finally able to relax, a few steps out from the finish. Look out for the giant anchor! 

Post-race, I enjoyed a nice (and occasionally disturbing) conversation Jeff and Steve, a muddy cooldown with Jeff through the Canonchet trails, some hot dogs and burgers in the pouring rain, and finally the award ceremony (I’d won my age group and WTAC the team title). All in all, a fun day!

This motley crew managed to capture the team victory. 

Belleville Pond "10K"

Note: This was written six weeks ago. There's really no good excuse for not posting it sooner; I simply always thought of something else with a higher priority to do instead. But there's nothing like falling behind by two races to spark some motivation. This *should* soon be followed by a post on the RISP 5K, pending exhaustion of whatever other excuses I can come up with for that one...

Please forgive the delay in this post. I’ve had a very busy stretch at work, with three of the past four weeks involving travel to Puerto Rico, California, and Florida, culminating in a 10-day lung infection that necessitated a break from running. So, let’s see what I still remember.

The Belleville Pond 10K at Ryan Park has been perhaps my favorite race in the South County 4th Season series. It’s a fun and challenging course that in my two previous experiences had been especially fun and challenging due to a blanket of deep snow. In both cases, I also managed to win, which, in retrospect, may have had something to do with my fondness for the event. 

There’d be no snow this time, but I was excited nonetheless. We did get hit with a powerful rain and wind storm in the day prior, and the wind was still strong on the morning of. I came unusually light-clothed (by my standards) and was regretting it as I stepped out of my car upon first arriving.

I got in a short warm-up with Jonny and Greg, in the process learning the first part of the course in reverse (so, you know, it would look familiar whenever I peeked behind me in the race), and I added on a little bit extra to remind myself of the finish.

My plan for the race would be to gain another position – up to third – from the previous race. I thought this might doable but also the best I could imagine placing, as I considered Lonergan and Greg to be untouchable.

We waited longer than usual for the race to start, as a big crowd still stood in line for the port-a-potties. I took refuge behind the dugout of the baseball field, where I was somewhat shielded from the wind until the race started (first falsely, and then for real - Brightman's fault, no doubt).

As expected, Lonergan went out like a flash, and Greg followed, perhaps a little farther behind than in the previous race, but still clear of the chase pack, which was led by Tall Guy from Old Mountain fame and Brightman. Interestingly, Jackman hung back with me and Jonny, and I suspected he might be banking on the assumption that I’d be running my typically conservative race. I decided to have a little spontaneous fun and proceeded to run far faster than I usually would at this point in the race, just to mess with his head. We quickly caught up to Brightman on the first single-track section and accelerated by onto the rail bed.

This is always a good point in the race to take stock of situation up ahead, as you can see a good half mile into the distance, which may have been just far enough to see Lonergan. It was also apparent that Greg had put in a big surge here and may have actually been gaining on the lead. Next up was Tall Guy, who had maybe 10 seconds on us…until he wiped out leaping a downed tree. It wasn’t a bad fall, but it clearly took his momentum away. Jackman and I were careful not to repeat his mistake and cleared the tree with ease, and Brightman was hot on our heels throughout this section. I suspected we’d gotten a gap on Jonny but didn’t dare look back at this point, just two miles into the race.

We exited the rail bed, cut across the main path on the far side of the park, and headed into the sand that leads into power line section. We were rapidly gaining on Tall Guy, and I put in a small surge up the steep embankment immediately before the powerline crossing to get some separation on Jackman. I watched as Tall Guy tentatively crossed a log bridge (which I bypassed entirely) and then caught up to him. I asked how he was doing after the fall, and he muttered that he’d been better. That was the last I heard from him for the duration of the race.

As usual after getting a lead, I tried to really put the pressure on for a long stretch, which coincided with the Route 4 section of the course. This is a segment with lots of short ups and downs, and a couple of switchbacks that give an opportunity to see where your followers are without looking too paranoid. I became aware that I’d suddenly gotten a lot closer to Greg and was positioned maybe half way between him and the Jackman-Brightman-Tall Guy crowd.

Running by myself, I got lulled into a slower pace than desired a few times but managed to shake myself out of it before losing too much time. Seeing Seth and his camera out there in remote locations helped enormously.

And here is the resulting video. Really amazing job by Seth!

Belleville Pond 10k 2018 from Seth Acton on Vimeo.

On the other side of the main trail, the course traverses an especially tricky and technical section with everything from sand to moguls to rocky ridges and sharp drops. I recently ran here while on a late conference call with work, and got temporarily distracted as I was reminded of that meeting and something I'd committed to do but hadn't done yet. Yuck - I had to get my head back in the race; worse distraction ever! I was snapped out of the memory upon hearing footsteps suddenly close behind. After a few uncertain moments, I was relieved to discover it was Seth getting some trailing shots (see ~3:15 in the video above for Seth's sneaky move).

I was getting ever closer to Greg, and perhaps as little as 10 seconds separated us at this point, but I honestly never considered catching him a real possibility. My pessimism become anchored in reality when we reached the return rail bed, and Greg found another gear that I could almost match but certainly not exceed.

Impressively, he maintained that gear when we transitioned into the last bit of trail before the bridge crossings, leaving me in the dust. I was very tried and hanging on for dear life here, grateful that I didn’t have anyone lingering close behind. I was happy to finally reach the Field of Broken Dreams, where Greg was maybe 75 yards ahead. He looked back once for good measure, saw no danger, and cruised into the finish. I locked up my hoped-for 3^rd place, with Brightman, Jackman, Tall Guy, and Jonny finishing drama-free in that order behind me. All of the theatrics, however, were reserved for the next three, who battled all the way to the line, the younger guys getting the better of Jeff, who was still very much Gazelling to the line, despite not having the kick he’d hoped for.

WTAC took the win again, and I secured some beverages for that day’s family party. What a practical award ceremony.

I should also mention that my hip injury from 2015’s half marathon has returned with a vengeance. It hasn’t yet had a major impact on my training, but I’ve begun feeling it on nearly every step of every run, which even the most optimistic person can’t view as a positive development. I’m hopeful that my forced 10-day break will have helped the healing along. 

(Note: The break did, to some extent, give me some respite from the hip pain. It's certainly still there, but tolerable for now.)