Final races in RI: Battle of Stonington and WTAC Fun Run Mile

Battle of Stonington 5K

As August drew to a close, I prepared to say goodbye not just to the summer, but to Rhode Island (for awhile). Work is taking me to southern California for the next 18 months, and while I'm excited about the adventures that await, I'm also sad to leave behind a place that has truly felt like home for the past three years. Running has played more than a small part in our family's connection to the area, and I have my WTAC teammates to thank for that. I feel like I've known these guys for my whole life (and I'm OK with that). Thanks to Strava and blogs, I won't be too far out of the loop while I'm away, but that doesn't mean I can't lament the move at least a little bit. OK, the lamenting is over, now let's get to the rest of the post.

The last month of our time in RI was hectic and stressful due to the move and closing out the project I was getting destroyed by at work. I still got in my usual amount of running, but life got in the way of everything else besides that. (One of the benefits of running just 3-4 days a week is that my schedule can absorb additional activities without impacting my running volume.) I wasn't sure I'd have time to squeeze in another race or two, but when Jeff sent out an email about the Battle of Stonington 5K, I registered right away, blocking off my schedule that evening. I'd been wanting to get over to a Stonington Fun Run or two this year, but it never materialized, and this would be my last chance to experience the atmosphere in the borough. 

On race day, I got to the course very early and found myself in line for packet pickup behind a fit looking kid whose name I didn't recognize. I made a mental note to watch for him in the race. After a while, I met up with Tom, Mike B, and Shara for a warm-up around part of the course. We went out way too early, as the race started 15 minutes later than I'd realized. I ended up taking another short jog with some accelerations closer to the race start. It was brutally hot, and I felt exhausted, but that's pretty much the way I felt all summer, so at least I was prepared.

I walked into the starting area with Jeff and Tom and got ready for the two-lap course around historic Stonington. Nearby, I noticed Will Sanders and Nick Migani, both of whom I figured would be far ahead of me during the race. I didn't know anyone else and figured I'd run my own race and see how things shook out.

Lap 1: As expected, The Colonel and Migani jumped off the line and into the lead. They were joined by a that fit-looking younger guy I'd seen earlier. Now I noticed his legs were shaved. If you're going to shave your legs, you better be fast, and this guy was at least playing the part at the onset.

Unexpectedly running in the lead pack a half-mile into the race.

The race starts down a hill, and I thought this would equate to a speedy first quarter-mile. Interestingly, the leaders slowed to a casual pace as we descended and rounded the 180-degree turn. I looked at my watch and saw we were cruising at 5:25 pace. This was far slower than even I wanted to run, so it was clear they were playing some kind of game. I was a little concerned that my overall time would pay the price of their lollygagging and was tempted to pass, but I knew it would only be a matter of time before one of them got the itch and order was restored.

Ever so gradually, the pace accelerated, and before long the average pace had dropped to 5:14, which is right around where it stayed when we hit the mile mark. I benefited from the slow start in that I was able to use the front pack as a wind shield on the way down Water St., where there was a gentle but noticeable headwind. I started losing some ground as the group of three ahead continued to pick it up while I settled into my goal race pace. By the time we reached the end of the first lap, I was 10 seconds back and falling. 1st lap time was ~8:15 - a little slower than I wanted but close.

Dropped. Nearly at the halfway point.

Wait for me, guys!

Lap 2: I watched The Colonel drop the hammer up ahead, while the next two battled for 2nd place. My second mile was ~5:13. I kept the pace steady at the start of the third mile and was surprised to see it increase from 5:15 to 5:26 over the first quarter-mile. I instantly accelerated, assuming I'd lost focus, only to see the pace quickly drop back down to where it had been before. It must have been due to a signal loss, but it got me thinking about the psychological effect of the pace displayed on a GPS watch. I was able to convince myself to speed up not because the pace felt easy, but because my watch told me it should have felt easy. This led to the thought that I should be able to program my watch to tell me I am running too slow just to see how much faster I could actually go. It would have to be randomized, of course, otherwise I'd know what it was up to and make the adjustment in my head. Before I knew it, I really had lost focus and the pace started slipping. Darn GPS watches.

I snapped myself out of those thoughts and back to the situation at hand. By that time, I was rounding the turn at the far end of the course and navigating the side roads leading back to Main St. I noticed that Migani had nearly broken the kid, who was ever so slightly dropping off the pace. They were both so far ahead and looking so strong, it didn't seem feasible that I'd catch them, but crazier things have happened, so I kept working at it.

Weaving through traffic (both cars and people)
while trying to catch Migani.

The finish area started coming into focus way up ahead, and I realized I was running out of time to make a move. I picked up the pace and still felt remarkably good. The kid was faltering. I like to think I still have a kick, and I figured I could hold him off if he tried to match my pace after I passed. Just to be sure, I went by him with an extra surge, hoping to put any thoughts of responding out of his mind. I then saw that Migani wasn't that far up. I mustered what little kick I could, but it was to no avail. He kicked, too, and I settled for 3rd place. My second lap was ~8:00, and the overall time was 16:15 (according to my watch). Given my previous experience in SNERRO races, I wasn't surprised to see the official time listed as 2 seconds slower (16:17). I'm not sure why that always happens, but at least it's consistent. Regardless, it was a road 5K PR, just edging my 16:21 from the CVS 5K in 2013 and the Schonning 5K last year. I still haven't given up on breaking 16 in a road 5K, and I'm sure it can be done, I just need to do some real training without getting injured.

Side note: It turned out that the 4th place finisher is a current college student and very fast 800 runner (1:50 indoors last year), so my confidence in being able to sprint by him was probably unfounded.

Post-race, Jeff escorted me down to the Dogwatch for beverages and awards. What a great spot to enjoy the festivities. I made off with a crisp $20 bill for my 3rd place finish. Meanwhile, Shara won the women's race, and Tom, Jeff, and Mike all won awards in their respective age groups. Shara and I were both interviewed for a Westerly Sun article, which appeared in the paper the following day. Gotta love the local press.

Approaching the finish, all hopes of 2nd place erased.

WTAC Fun Run Mile

I had really hoped to be able to make it to the final fun run of the summer the following Wednesday in Misquamicut. We were flying to California the next day, so it would be my final chance to say goodbye to the crew. However, I'd only be able to make it if the moving guys finished their work in time. I was counting down the hours, then the minutes, until we'd have to leave to make it to the race. It would be close. Every time I thought they'd be finished, there would be another paper to sign or box to load. We finally got into the car with no time to spare, which is when Seb started revolting. He wanted to see the enormous truck pull out of the driveway. Sorry kid, maybe next time we move across the country. He only screamed for a few minutes before falling asleep in the car. I drove dangerously down to Route 1 to get back the time we'd lost.

We missed the kids' race by about 11 seconds but avoided another meltdown by lying to Seb and telling him the kids would run with the grown-ups this week. I got in a four-minute warm-up (in my walking around shoes, as I had packed all but the heaviest of my running shoes on the moving truck) with some accelerations before jogging over to the starting line, where I saw more teammates than expected. Jeff, Matthew, Mike, Muddy, Jonny, Woolley. What a group. Woolley's appearance was especially disruptive, as I'd figured I'd be running this as a time trial, but now I realized I'd have to do everything I could just to hang on to him. 

I had no time goal; I just wanted to run hard and see what happened. I got out pretty well off the line and found myself behind Jonny (surprise, surprise) as we made our first turn. I'd never run a road mile before, so it took some adjustment to force myself to run something faster than 5K pace. I passed Jonny and tried to keep the pace honest. We twisted our way around the few quick turns early on before exiting onto Crandall. I sensed Woolley easing up onto my shoulder and told him not to wait up for me. Being the polite Kiwi he is, he stayed a half-step behind. My mindset was still very much that of a 5K runner, and only once we turned on Atlantic did I realize the race was almost over. I pushed the pace a bit more, and Woolley hung tight. He finally made a move to go by as we made the last turn onto Elmwood, but I sprinted and was able to hold him off. The official time was 4:43, my fastest mile in quite some time. 

Sadly, I didn't get to say proper goodbyes to anyone, as Seb bit Maisie's foot during the award ceremony, and we hightailed it out of there before anyone had us locked up for public disturbance.

So, instead, let me just say this: Thank you, my running friends, for the great memories these past few years. See you in 2017...