New Paltz Turkey Trot

Brrrr. That's really all you need to know. Just, brrrr.

Thanksgiving was COLD this year; here's how I figured that out before the New Paltz Turkey Trot had begun:

• After spending three minutes outside picking up my race number, I was unable to send a text because I was shivering too violently. 
• The only exposed skin (outside of my face) during the warm-up was on my ankles, and it felt as if it had been lit on fire. A very cold fire.
• I lost all feeling in my left foot and in three toes of my right foot.

Generally speaking, the weather wasn't all that oppressive. Sure, 15 degrees is not warm, but I've raced in colder temps. Maybe it was the suddenness of the temperature drop, or the accompanying wind that made this feel so much worse than it should have. It was bad enough that 300 of the 1100 people who'd registered for this race didn't even bother showing up despite shelling out $25. But I don't believe in sunk costs, and I'm also not easily deterred from a chance to race in my hometown, so into the cold I not-so-bravely went.

I met Mike and Winter to attempt to warm up on 'Historic' Huguenot Street. (As a New Paltz native, I am contractually obligated to use the 'Historic' moniker.) It didn't work, as noted above, but I did enjoy causing Mike's anxiety to ratchet up a few notches as we returned with scant few minutes remaining before the start. I quickly changed into my racing flats, which are of the Nike Flyknit design, allowing for maximal circulation of frigid air to my toes. 

At the start, I bumped into an old teammate who was wearing shorts and no gloves or hat. My bare ankles burned this time with embarrassment. I also learned of some fast younger locals who'd been spotted warming up (by "learned," I mean Mike's parents told me that I was going to lose to them). This race also attracts some wild cards, including this 1:02 half-marathoner two years ago, so I didn't know what to expect from the competition and would have to be agile with my strategy as the race developed.

Just as we were about to start, the first few rows of runners were informed (via an old-fashioned megaphone, like the kind you might have seen in a political rally in the 1880s) that due to snow on the rail trail, we'd be doing an out-and-back on the road instead of the USATF-certified 5K loop. I recalled that the last time I'd done this race, back in 2014, we were forced into the out-and-back route, as well, which turned out to be slightly longer than a 5K. I'd hoped that the more professional race organization this year would yield a better turnaround point. Time would tell...

At the whistle, a few younger guys shot out quickly (I'm pretty sure I write that in 90% of these posts), and I wound up in 5th or 6th for the first quarter mile. Shortly after the start is the only hill in the race, a short rise of 35 feet that gently encourages you to reconsider your opening pace. By the top of the hill, I was in second, and within another 50 yards, I was in the lead, but with company. I looked to the right and saw a guy I recognized as a great local high school and collegiate runner, who'd run a 30:20 10K on the track last spring. (He and his brother and their teammates were responsible for taking nearly every individual and relay school record I was part of in high school.) I introduced myself, and, after he complimented me for being in shape, I made a disparaging comment about it only being a half-mile into the race and likely not lasting much longer. He took the hint and got a few steps on me. I happily got into his wind shadow and stayed there for a few minutes. 

I felt the pace slacken a little, and I decided to take the lead for a bit. But as I moved up, I noticed the sound of his footsteps fade just a little, as we reached the mile in 5:19 (5 seconds faster than 2014). I pressed the pace, and the footsteps receded farther into the distance. Around this time, a couple of old teammates were unexpectedly positioned on the side of the road, and this put a smile on my face and jolted me onward. I was feeling good and seemingly increasing the lead continuously. Up ahead, I saw the cone in the middle of the road's terminal circle. It appeared that this would be another 5+ kilometer race, and my watch's 1.62-mile reading at the cone confirmed it. 

Interestingly, there was not a volunteer at the cone. I didn't think much of it at the time (other than that I was surprised they trusted us so much and hoped I had turned in the right place). In retrospect, this was a huge organizational gaffe that caused a great deal of havoc a short time later, but we'll get to that.

On the way back, I saw I had maybe 15 seconds on 2nd place, and then a big gap to 3rd and 4th. I got some hand slaps from Mike and a couple of other high school teammates, which was where the fun part of the out-and-back ended. I soon ran into a wall of people of all ages, shapes, and sizes filling the road and coming directly at me without any idea I was headed their way. I'd been running the whole race on the left side of the road, but that was no longer going to work. I tried the right side to no avail. The middle was equally full. I finally opted for the flexible/spastic approach: darting left and right as needed to avoid head-on collisions. This was more frustrating than I could have ever imagined. I lost all sense of pace and rhythm and longed for the open road. It wasn't until I was within 3/4-mile of the finish that the crowd thinned, and I had free reign of the road. Oh, what a relief that was. I'd missed my watch's 2-mile beep but later saw the split was 5:17 (2 more seconds gained on 2014). 

By this point, I was tired and cold and not feeling all that peppy. The mile-three split was 5:15 (vs. 5:11 in 2014). I cruised back down the hill we'd come up earlier, around the final bend, and into the finish to the rapturous applause of the 5 or 6 people brave enough to stand in the cold to watch. My final time was 16:56, which was EXACTLY the same as my time from four years prior. I'm a little disappointed not to set my 3.2-mile PR (ha ha), but I was in pretty good shape in 2014, having just run 47:01 at Li'l Rhody and just about to run fast at Old Mountain, so I can't be too disappointed. 2nd place was roughly a minute back, and Mike, in a solid 5th, another minute behind that.

I do, however, wish the race organizers had had the foresight to either direct runners to run on one side of the street or the other, or to have had a lead vehicle that could have cleared the way. It also would have helped to announce to the entire field that the course would be an out-and-back. I can't blame any of the other runners for doing what they did; there's no way they should have expected to deal with oncoming runners. (I was surprised to learn from Mike, though, that they hadn't gotten the clue by the time he came through, so perhaps they're not totally blameless.)

In any case, I really enjoyed the race despite the human obstacles and frigid temperatures, and even got a cool hand-made pottery gravy boat that was immediately employed for our Thanksgiving dinner that night. All things considered, it was a nice way to start the holiday.