Going into this race, I'd run 13 miles total over the previous 10 days. It wasn't a confidence-inspiring training block, but I chose to look at this much the way
Seth had before the OMF race -- it was just a really good taper. No point in dwelling on the negatives; my well-rested legs and gunk-filled lungs would be tackling the race without reservation.
I hadn't previously run this race, so I relied on last year's blog posts and a few conversations with teammates to prepare. Quite fortuitously, I bumped into race director Mike Galoob at the grocery store the night before, and he was just back from a visit to the course, so he was able to give me some fresh insight into the conditions. The course would likely be fast, he said, as the sand was hard packed thanks to the recent cold snap. There was some ice on the trails but nothing serious. This was good news; I hadn't been looking forward to slogging through deep sand or puddles.
Arriving at the race, temperatures were still quite cold (14F when I left my house). I surveyed the beach from the registration area, hoping to see someone who knew the course and could point out the tricky spots (not that I would ever take a
wrong turn in a race). Just then, I bumped into Jonny and begged my way in to his warm-up. He and Muddy guided me through the trail section, which was snowy and icy in spots but otherwise in good shape. There was an especially rough section through the ruins that I'd have to be careful on during the race. (For a great picture of this section, plus other shots of the course, see
Seth's blog,)
On the line, I set up on the ocean side with the intent to hug the shoreline on the way out to the cone. My race plan was to hang behind the leaders as long as I could and use a kick (if I had one) in the last 800 to try to break away. I couldn't risk going out as aggressively as last race with my recent lung troubles, so I hoped to keep my breathing under control this time. I was feeling good about this plan until Jonny alerted me to the fact that RI speedster Eric Lonergan would be in the race. I'd raced him twice (rather, we were in the same race twice) and lost big both times. He's at another level on the roads, but I held out some hope that the beach and trails would be an equalizer. This was probably wishful thinking, and I prepared myself to race for second.
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| Examining the sand before the race. (Photo by Jana Walker.) |
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| A great shot of the field after the start by Jana. I'm the one loping along on the far right. |
Steve Brightman took the race out pretty hard, and I ran in his wind shadow on the way out to the cone, wishing he had broader shoulders. I knew Bob Jackman was right with us, and he made an incredible turn around the cone to pull even with Brightman. After 3/4 of a mile or so, Lonergan had gone to the front, while Brightman dropped back. I hung behind Bob and Lonergan through the mile (5:13) and then started losing some ground as we ran up through the deeper sand into the sand trail section.
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Most of the field approaches the cone, while the top 4 have made the turn,
none more perfectly than Jackman. (Photo by Jana Walker.) |
Running behind these guys, it struck me what a contrast in styles they represented. Jackman is all power, with big, strong strides and the body to match. Lonergan is a model of efficiency, his small frame floating over the ground effortlessly. As we spilled out onto the road, I snapped out of my body-type analysis and worked to pull back within reach. Lonergan nearly took a wrong turn where the course veers off the road and back onto the trail, while Jackman took advantage and moved into the lead. The two of them continued to battle up front while I hung on for dear life. My legs felt like they were attached to cinder blocks, and I started to wonder how much longer I could be part of the battle.
The course peaks just before the two mile mark, and the ensuing downhill could not have come at a better time. The two-mile split was 5:42, and the three of us cruised down the trail as an ensemble. I thought to myself how much fun it was to be part of a three-way contest like this, with both individual and possibly team titles on the line. The team aspect of the race was actually pretty motivating and got me through a few sections where I might otherwise have let up a bit.
At some point in this area, I pulled ahead of Bob, and when we hit the steep downhill with its poor footing, I surged ahead of Lonergan. A jolt of adrenaline followed that gave my legs some of their life back. I pushed the pace into the old ruins. Lonergan, who had been a gentleman all race long, pointing out slippery spots as we approached, urged me to be careful here. I was, and we emerged unscathed, down the rocks and hurdling the stream back onto the beach.
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| Picking our spots through the broken ice in the ruins. (Photo by Scott Mason.) |
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| Popping out the other side. And did I mention I lost my left arm during the race? (Photo by Scott Mason.) |
Once we reached the beach, Eric pulled ahead. I didn't think I had the steam to run next to him the whole way back, so I fell in behind him and did my best to match him stride for stride. It was frustrating to hear the
smack smack smacking of my feet on the sand while his made nary a peep. Still, I hung in there behind him and might have even pulled aside him at one point with about 200 meters to go. I could make out the figures of the Galoob family motioning for us to run up the beach to the finish line near the pavilion. Isn't there an imaginary finish line extending all the way to the ocean? We went into an all-out sprint in the final 50 meters. I tried to summon that mid-distance speed that has been sleeping somewhere inside my legs for the past 10 months, but it either wasn't awake yet, or Lonergan had more of it. He cruised through the line a few feet ahead,
16:52 to 16:53. The third mile was 5:18, and the final 0.1 was at 4:31 pace. We were about a minute under the course record, though conditions were much more favorable this year than in the past.
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| Clomping away, hanging on for dear life. (Photo by Jana Walker.) |
Bob finished third, followed by Brightman and Muddy. Uh oh, this was going to be a close team race between WTAC, TNT, and Rhode Runner, who benefited from Lonergan's attendance. I saw Jonny finish after Principe, but I swore there was another Rhode Runner guy in there as well. Jeff, Seth, and Matthew -- bloody knee and all -- weren't far behind. Did we have enough guys to displace the third scorers for TNT and RR? It turned out that we didn't. Rhode Runner nipped us by a few points. A couple of places here or there, and we would have pulled it out. I'm actually glad we lost, though. Losing is a great motivator, and I hope the victory also convinces RR to bring their team back again for the next few races. It would be great to have these types of team battles throughout the rest of the series.
Thanks, as always, to the Galoobs for putting on another stellar race and braving the cold for hours on end.
