Just another running blog: 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:

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Friday, December 6, 2019

Pell Bridge Run

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