Stavros and Deerfoot

Two (somewhat) recent races happened on back-to-back days, so a back-to-back post seems appropriate. Here we go!

Stavros

First up was the Charlie Stavros Memorial On the Beach Run, with its long but meaningful title. I left myself just enough time to drive from work, grab my bib, and get in a very short jog on the beach. On that jog, I headed out three minutes and then watched the other runners assemble at the start as I returned. It was a little nerve-wracking seeing that scene unfold while the clock ticked. I got back, threw off my long-sleeve shirt, and the race started an instant later. I don't think I'd ever completed a warm-up with so little time to spare. 

Now a quick pause for the standard part of these blog posts that describes whatever happens to be ailing me at the moment. On this day, it was my right patellar tendon (which is actually a ligament, but that minor detail doesn't seem to bother anyone, including medical professionals, so let's go with it). It had been extremely sore at the start of the week, to the point that I wasn’t able to run for four days leading up to the race. While resting, I ordered one of those straps that wraps around the tendon to relieve some of the strain it takes on when running. I tested it out on the warmup, and other than some awkwardness associated with the strap, I deemed the knee ready to roll, though I'd monitor it throughout and back off as the knee dictated.

Back to the race! I was a bit shocked to grab the lead spot right off the line, as the high schoolers were unusually reserved in their start. The rest of the first half was spent timing the rise and fall of the waves on the beach in order to minimize abrupt directional changes. Given that I was wearing shoes (sorry, Jeff), I wanted to get as close to the water as possible without touching it, while maintaining as straight a path as I could. By the mile mark (5:21), I'd gotten pretty good at projecting a wave's size and trajectory and could plan my path well in advance. It also occurred to me that my knee wasn't bothering me in the slightest, and I was on pace to finish in the low 16s. Given this situation, I threw caution to the wind and decided to go for it. 

I reached the turnaround -- manned by Muddy -- in 8:05, still on pace to beat the course record of 16:20 (shared by Matthew and Galoob), barring a big positive split (foreshadowing...). Unfortunately, the return proved to be challenging for so many reasons. There was the sun, the oncoming foot traffic, a very slight headwind, and, most of all, the fatigue. I might have been able to deal with the first three if not for the fourth, but the combination of all was enough to thwart a CR attempt. My second mile was 5:30, so I was still technically on pace, but I was trending in the wrong direction. 

While I did my best to quicken the pace in the third mile, my watch kept reminding me that I was failing. As I closed in on the finish, I stayed along the shore line as long as I could, which greatly disturbed the finish line volunteers, who seemed to think I hadn't seen the giant clock, flags, rope, etc. They frantically waved at me until I turned up into the deep sand to the finishing flags (a bit earlier than I would have preferred, but I can only rebel for so long). As I did, my fans (Seb and Maisie) ran down to get a high five, which I gladly gave them. Upon reaching the flags, I gratefully stopped and began to tear off the bottom of my bib, only to receive more frantic waving from the volunteers. What now? Still too close to the water? Apparently, the flags marked the beginning of finishing chute, not the end. I ran the final few steps until everyone was satisfied that I'd truly crossed the line. The final time was 16:26, just six seconds off the CR and four ahead of my time from 2013, the only time I'd done this race previously. I suppose I lost a few seconds to my finish line screw-up, but the CR wouldn't have happened regardless.

My kids watch some slightly older kids sprint toward the finish line. Photo by Jana.

What a happy family (or at least they are pretty good a posing as one for the camera). Photo by Jana.

Deerfoot

I signed up for the Deerfoot 5K the night before, one I’d confirmed my knee hadn’t blown up during the Stavros race. It was pricey ($30) for a 5K, but the ROI was potentially huge, as the winner would be awarded a stay at a Block Island hotel. The race isn’t terribly well publicized, and after signing up, I struggled to find a reliable source for the starting time. After consulting several sites, I settled on 6 PM, which would allow me to get there from work with plenty of time to warm up – a nice change after the just-in-time Stavros arrival the day before. Or so I thought…

The next day, I pulled in to the parking area at 5:24 and went over to the registration table to pick up my bib. I wasn’t terribly surprised when I learned that they didn’t have my name on their list, since I’d just signed up the night before, and suspected it might not have made it into the starting roster in time. Now here's where some insanely prescient preparation really paid off. You see, because I anticipated this exact scenario, I decided to bring some digital proof of my registration. Under normal circumstances, I would have grabbed my phone and shown the email confirmation. But these weren't normal times. My phone had slipped out of my hand on the stairs the night before, and the screen was smashed into a million pieces. So, I had instead brought my computer. But since this was my work computer, I have to access my personal email through a "safe" portal, which times out after a few minutes. Knowing this, I took a screenshot of the email while still at work, and had this image up and ready to go on the computer to show as proof. It seemed over the top while I was doing it, but now I was feeling rather brilliant.

I told the girl at registration the short version of that story and asked if I could bring over my laptop. Strangely, she replied that I might miss the race if I did that. Miss the race? My car was 100 feet away, and I was pretty sure I’d be able to get there and back in 30 minutes. I confirmed that I still had until 6, and she corrected me that the race would start at any moment. The time was moved up 30 minutes due to the ongoing EEE threat. Yikes! I ran to my car and tossed on my flats, grabbed my computer and gave it to her for safekeeping, and sprinted to the start while pinning my bib. I got there just in time for Jonny to tell how disappointed he was to see me, and then the gun went off.

At the start, and still sporting the knee band. Notice the look of disgust on Jonny's face. 

I had to switch from panic mode to race mode, and it was an odd feeling of sudden relaxation at the start of a race. One guy took off fast in front of me, but I passed him not long after and didn’t have company for the remainder of the race. The only drama left was whether I’d get lost, since I didn’t know the course, and whether I’d manage to run a decent time without a warm-up and coming off a race the day before. Fortunately, I had no problem with the first item on the list of anxieties. The course was well-marked and quite easy to follow. (It was also really fun running the twists and turns of the Ninigret bike path.) On the second item, I feared I’d really blown up when looking at my watch and seeing a cumulative pace of 6:40 after the first half mile. It turned out that my watch still hadn’t found a steady GPS signal, since I didn’t give it the time to do so at the frantic rush to the start. Once I passed the mile marker on the course, I manually hit the lap button, and all was well after that.

Somewhere between the start and end of the race.

I finished in 16:28, which I guess I’m ok with. That would be a good course to get a fast time in ideal conditions, which is something I’ll have to shoot for at some point in the future. After the race, I flagged down my parents as they arrived to see the 6 PM version of the race and broke the news to them and then called Katie to do the same. Jonny and I had a nice cooldown together and then received our respective prizes at a small but spirited awards ceremony. I also managed to convince the registration girl with my screenshot that I had actually signed up for the race, so all was right with the world once again.