Final 3: Avondale, Mews, Newport

The downside of remaining relatively healthy and race-ready is that I've fallen terribly far behind on these race reports. I can't stand the thought of a 2019 race showing up in the 2020 section of the blog, so in an attempt to squeeze the final three write-ups in before the end of the year, this will be an abbreviated post containing all of them.

First up, all the way back in early November, was the Avondale "Setting the Pace for Conservation" 5K. This was another in my series of new-to-me races in 2019, and I was excited at the prospect of a very flat 5K to shoot for a fast time. Specifically, I wanted to take a crack at sub-16, and thought the easy course could be just what I needed to make it happen. However, I wasn't anticipating the strong winds that we'd face head-on during the opening mile and again in the final quarter-mile before the finish. Still, I figured I'd take a shot, and verbally committed to it when I told Matthew that I would try to hit 5:10 pace for as long as I could before attempting a kick.

Speaking of Matthew, he was a wildcard in the race. He was coming off a long injury that put a serious dent in his training volume. But...he was still Matthew. His no-running speed was pretty close to what I'm able to muster on what passes for full training these days. Tommy, who has been rounding back into form and was a multi-time champ of this race, was also there and would be a threat, too.

The last smiling I'd be doing for a while. (All pics from Jana.)

Still early and feeling good.

At the start, I grabbed the lead right away and was surprised to be able to hold something close to 5:10 pace through the wind. I must have spaced out for a bit after that, as I was taken aback by the 5:15 mile split. I failed in my attempt to get back on track in the second mile and slowed slightly to 5:17. On the out-and-back portion of the mile 2, I was also reminded of how close Matthew was at this point in the race. I was surely in his crosshairs, and if I couldn't hit a strong final mile, I'd be in trouble. Fortunately, I was able to get the legs turning over, and the final mile was 5:07, including the tough wind section. I hadn't been doing the math in my head, so I was shocked to see the clock only in the high 15:50s as I approached the finish. It wouldn't be sub-16, but it was a lot closer than I'd expected. The final time of 16:06 was my second fastest road 5K ever, just 7 seconds off the Love Run (blog post) from three years again in California.

Finally through the wind and into the finish.

One final note on this race: the prize basket was the most unique and among the the most generous I'd ever received. I'll certainly be back at this one again and will hope for less wind!

Two weeks later, I toed the line for the first time at the Mews Gear 'n' Beer 6.9K just a few miles down the road from my home. To describe the weather that day as "wet" would be similar to saying the surface of the sun is "warm." It was an absolute deluge. Before the race had even started, I was as wet as I've ever been in my life. But hey, everyone else had to deal with it, too, right?

The race started up a river that is sometimes known as Wright Avenue. My legs felt heavy right away, and I quickly fell behind about a dozen people. I sloshed past a few on Willard and soon was in fourth as we entered the Allen Farm neighborhood on the other side of Allen Ave. My legs were no longer heavy, but I couldn't feel my feet. Really! It was the strangest sensation and made turning them over awfully tricky. The leader at this point - Bronson Venable - was so far ahead that I couldn't see him or the police escort. Second place was also quite far up, and third was maybe 10 seconds ahead. I was intent on catching third and was making good progress when I had an odd feeling of light-headedness that I'd never experienced in a race before. I slowed until it passed but was somewhat reluctant to increase the pace again. Eventually, competitiveness won out, and I continued my quest as we turned on to South Rd.

I did catch the guy shortly after, and he gave some words of encouragement to go for the next guy, who did seem to be slowing slightly. I got within shouting distance of second as we got close to the turn back on to Highland. How do I know I was this close? Because I actually shouted at him! He had nearly run past Highland when I yelled to turn right at this unmarked and unmanned junction. He got back on track, but I gained a second or two on him due to his uncertainty. I had also picked up the pace considerably (5:08 fourth mile vs. 5:32 third mile) but was running out of room.

For the final part of the race, I was pretty sure we'd be turning back down Wright (the river from earlier), but there was surprisingly no one there either, despite there being a volunteer one road prior, where there was no turn required. The second place guy missed this one and didn't hear my shout to turn. Now I had a conundrum. Do I go the way I'm supposed to and get 2nd place unfairly, or do I follow him off course where we'd both likely sacrifice our places? I chose the latter, partly because I felt I'd become his guide and was afraid he wouldn't know where to go on this new course we were creating, and partly because I didn't have time to think the whole thing through.

We continued down to the base of Highland where a confused police officer, not expecting to see runners, was directing traffic that had been diverted off Main St. I shouted to turn right and then right again on Main. Here, we had the once-in-a-lifetime experience of crossing the finish line in the opposite direction, which was a surprise to everyone there. Most interesting was that the next fifteen or so runners all followed us, too! So, we didn't sacrifice our positions; instead we got 0.2 miles more race for our money. Most surprising to me, however, was the fact that the 2nd place guy turned out to be the famed Matty P, now mortal as he eases into running retirement.

I was so cold afterward that I could hardly hold a spoon to eat my post-race meal and had to get to the car to change before coming back for the awards. And it was a good thing, too, as I got another generous prize for coming in third, and our team of me, Tommy, Shara, and Mikey won the "Community" category and got a nice gift certificate.

The final race in this installment was the Christmas 10K (or "Almost 10K", depending on your preference) in Newport. I'd last run this in 2013 (captured in my first ever blog post!) in 34:04. My 10K road PR, set on a training run back in 2002, was 33:43, and that would serve as my goal this year.

There were lots of running friends and acquaintances in attendance, including Jonny, Jeff, Brightman, Jackman, and more. Bronson once again came out of nowhere to show up at the start with seconds to spare, just as he'd done at the Mews race. It was now a race for second.

The good-looking, if follicly-challenged, WTAC crew before the race. (All pics from Jana, yet again.)

I got out in second place behind Bronson but had plenty of company. I was passed by a guy in baggy shorts over tights -- usually a telltale sign of front-of-pack impostor -- but he was looking pretty good, so I stayed patient and sat on him. I got ahead of him around the mile mark (5:13 - a bit fast, though it has a good amount of downhill). I was reminded around this point of my back pain, which had been almost debilitating earlier in the week. Just four days before, I'd been nearly unable to walk, but it had healed nicely since then, and, aside from a few tweaks during the race, I didn't feel it at all.

Some familiar faces span the road just after the start.

I settled too much at the start of the second mile and was again shadowed by the baggy shorts guy. I surged and then tried to hold that pace as best I could the rest of the way. I succeeded beyond my wildest expectations, running splits of 5:27, 5:27, 5:27, 5:27, 5:26 for the next five miles. I almost wish I'd slowed down one second in that sixth mile. Aside from this statistical oddity, not much happened the rest of the way. I ran completely alone, a minute-plus behind Bronson and nearly a minute ahead of the next guy. After the Mews directional debacle, I tried my best to watch Bronson's turns, which really tested my eyesight. Fortunately, I saw him at most of the key points and knew the others well enough to figure them out for myself. The final time was 33:29 -- well ahead of my previous time on this course and a 10K road PR, if you're willing to consider this a 10K. If you're not, then you can keep track of my alternative PRs yourself.

Into the finish.

The WTAC team placed a distant 2nd to the Turtles but still made out with way too much Budweiser. I did really enjoy racing with the old crowd again. With the demise of the Galoob winter racing series, I see these guys pretty infrequently, so it's always nice to catch up. On a humorous note, I discovered, after the race, that I'd been wearing my racing tight shorts inside-out all day. Maybe having the liner on the outside should have been a hint. Here I was, judging baggy shorts guy; meanwhile, he was probably thinking, "What's with this weirdo?" This stuff doesn't happen to other people, does it?

That's it for 2019, just before the deadline. Here's to more racing and more timely write-ups in 2020!

Pell Bridge Run

The Pell Bridge Run had been on my radar for a long time but had never reached must-do status. Earlier this summer, while chatting with Tommy about races on his calendar, this one came up, and the seed was planted. Fast-forward to October, when Tommy alerted me to an opportunity to run the race as part of a team supporting Clean Ocean Access, a local non-profit that aims to improve ocean health to allow people to enjoy activities in the water and on shorelines. I typically shy away from asking for donations, so the fact that there was no minimum fundraising requirement (aka, I could just ask close family to donate) was the final push I needed to join. I felt bad when I saw how little my efforts contributed to the cause, so I promised myself I’d find other ways to promote the organization if the opportunity presented itself.

The race itself is unique in that it crosses the Pell Bridge – normally closed to foot traffic – from Jamestown to Newport. With this unusual format comes some logistical complexity. Most runners park at the finish and take a shuttle over to the start beginning before 5 AM; no reverse option (e.g., parking at the start and taking a shuttle back from the finish) is available. Tommy and I were both slated for the 5:30 shuttle, which would have us at the start as much as 90 minutes before the gun. That was too much stand-around time for our liking, so we concocted our own shuttle system. We’d meet in Newport, where Tommy would park, and drive back in my car to an undisclosed location in Jamestown. There, we’d lounge in the relative luxury of my Honda Fit (OK, at least it would be warm) until a short time before the race, then jog the 10-15 minutes to the start as our warm-up.

It all went neatly according to plan – other than the fact that parking was already so limited in Newport that it took far longer to meet up than we'd expected. Still, we had plenty of time to spare once we arrived in Jamestown and enjoyed a beautiful run to the start along the water, with views out toward the bridge we’d ultimately be running over. The fact that the bridge seemed to be miles above us foretold the big climb that makes this race unique, but we’ll get to that later.

We lined up near the front of the field, which contained a few other speedy-looking guys and gals, though no one I knew was there. Looking at past results, this race doesn’t draw the cream of the crop. Aside from the one guy who’d won the race the past seven years, this race was of little interest to the region’s elite crowd. The upshot of this is that it meant I’d be in the running for a podium finish in a pretty large race, which was an intriguing perk.

At the gun, a small pack formed at the front, with a couple different guys sharing the lead. I was content to sit back and let them do the work for a while. After a short on-ramp loop and passing through the EZ Pass toll lane, the race climbs 200 feet as it ascends the bridge. It’s funny how you never notice the steep pitch of a bridge like this until you are forced to propel yourself up it with your own two legs. I’d planned to keep my breathing and pace under control until I neared the top, as more than half the race remains once you’ve hit the peak.

I did feel the leader’s pace lagging maybe halfway up, so I moved by him into first place and put in a very subtle surge to see if anyone would come along. One guy, donning a BAA jersey, did. He wasn’t content to just go with the move either, quickly getting a stride on me as we proceeded nearly side-by-side toward the summit. You can see a video of this part of the race here, and some pictures below.

I did my best to take in the stunning views, though the sun was directly in our eyes (placed perfectly, smack-dab in the middle of the bridge’s horizon), making anything beyond a squint, even in sunglasses, challenging. 

Upon reaching the apex, I worried that my usual troubles on downhills would cost me the race. I did my best to open my stride, be light on my feet, and lean into the hill. While it felt as awkward as ever, I unexpectedly grabbed the lead and then began to extend it. I could hear my pursuer still close behind when we finally reached the Aquidneck terminus of the bridge, but the fact that I hadn’t lost the race on the descent was miraculous.

Finally back on solid ground. Photo by Clean Ocean Access Exec Dir. 

With renewed vigor, and a more typical road angle, I tried to accelerate into a fast final mile. I wanted to make anyone who caught me really earn it. There were far more people lining the streets in Newport at this early hour than I ever would have expected, and their cheers helped distract from the growing fatigue. I was still feeling fairly strong in the long straight to the finish and put together a tiny kick in case the lead was smaller than it seemed. 

All smiles at the finish. Note: I am NOT raising my arms in victory; just trying to get them above the tape!

I broke the tape (literally) in 21:13. Second place was 21:40, but you’d have thought it a sprint to the finish if you read the local write-ups of the race (see links below). Tommy was not far behind with a sold race for seventh, despite his abbreviated training regimen this year. Our Clean Ocean Access team also dominated the team results, which was a cool surprise. 

After the race, I did a short interview where I made sure to drop a note about Clean Ocean Access in my ongoing attempt to make up for my poor fundraising efforts. Whatever goodwill I still owe them will surely be made up for by this high-circulation blog post.

In summary, this was an extremely well-organized race with a surprising amount of attention and praise heaped on the victor. I almost certainly will do it again, and I encourage others to do the same. And don’t forget to support Clean Ocean Access!!

Some articles on the race:

• https://www.newportri.com/news/20191023/pell-bridge-run-breaks-attendance-and-charitable-donation-records
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• https://www.jamestownpress.com/articles/pell-bridge-run/
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• https://www.portsmouthpress.com/2019/10/26/citizens-bank-pell-bridge-run-breaks-its-own-attendance-and-charitable-donation-records/
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• https://whatsupnewp.com/2019/10/record-year-for-citizens-bank-pell-bridge-run-event-breaks-its-own-attendance-and-charitable-donation-records/