Among the many wonderful things about being a runner is the fact that getting older comes with some perks. Earlier this year, I joined the ranks of the Masters division, which instantaneously catapulted me from a mediocre open runner to a decent Masters runner. I've found myself looking around in the starting corral, trying to gauge the age of other runners. It's something of a race within the race, and at big ones like the Blessing, it's easy to lose sight of the other old guys among the throngs of younger racers after the gun sounds. It feels a little like those chase scenes on the sidewalks of New York, where the good guy is trying to track down the bad guy and has to contend with all of the other interlopers. Anyway, it's been really fun, and the Blessing (which is what this post is all about, in case that wasn't clear) was my first time vying for a placing in the Masters division of a big race.
As has been the case in most years I've done the Blessing, I had no idea how fast I could expect to run, so I gave myself a target of 5:45 pace (57:30 total time) based loosely on how I'd done previously at this race and where I estimated my fitness to be. This time, however, I promised myself to go no faster than that pace until at least the start of Mile 7. My mantra was 2/3 pacing, 1/3 racing. I would stay patient until Mile 7, watching the pace and keeping it around 5:45, and then I'd forget the watch and start to race.
With the race starting on a gradual downhill, it's always a challenge to hold back. To counterbalance this, I started farther back in the pack than usual. This put me in quite a bit of traffic for most of the first mile, perfectly doing its job of keeping my competitive juices at bay. However, it also meant that I had completely lost track of the few 40+ guys I knew were in the field. Rather that worry about it, I put my head down, kept a steady pace, and waited to see what the race brought me.
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| I'm somewhere in that sea of people. (Photo from RI Independent.) |
Over the first three miles (5:43, 5:45, 5:40), I passed gads of people, old and young alike, and entering mile 4, I pulled up behind Mike Daniels -- a fellow Master -- and his TNT teammate. I thought about going right by but decided to hang out for a bit and keep the big move in my pocket for later. The pace slowed (5:50 for the 4th mile) but staying put proved to be a very wise decision, as those guys had a different race plan that apparently involved a bigger move of their own up the hill just after turning off Ocean Road. I couldn't safely match it without burning myself, so I hoped I'd find a way to regain contact up the dreaded 108 section. This didn't happen either, as I lost even more ground and slowed a bit more than I would have liked. Miles 5 and 6 were 5:47 and 5:55.
The start of mile 7, where I'd planned to start "racing" coincides nicely with our departure from 108 onto shaded, quiet roads. I let myself open the stride up a bit, stopped looking at my watch, and tried to attach the proverbial tether to the TNT duo. I must have hooked only one of them, as I was able to catch the younger guy but couldn't gain any ground on Mike. I recalled from Strava that he does exceptionally high mileage (his weekly totals are just lower than my typical monthly totals), which, in my estimation, would make him an unlikely candidate for a blow-up in the final miles of a race like this. I couldn't quite say the same for myself. Regardless, mile 7 was a 5:34, and, for now, I was feeling great.
Then, suddenly, I wasn't feeling quite as great. My legs tired significantly on the tiny climbs over the next two miles. I managed to run 5:45 and 5:44 for 8 and 9 but with increasing effort throughout. I still held out hope that I could close with a big final mile. Unfortunately, just as has happened at every Blessing I've run, I was beset by leg cramps. This time, it was my hamstrings. I had to settle for maintaining pace, trying to keep a short and efficient stride, and avoiding a major issue. This got me through to the final half-mile, where the streets are lined with people, and the mad dash for the finish begins. I decided I had nothing to lose and tried to pick off as many people as I could. The steady pace turned into a furious sprint. I passed five people in the last 100 meters, only to have one young guy nip me back at the line. The final mile was 5:28, with the last 0.1 at <4:40.
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| Moments from getting passed back by that young man. (Photo from RI Independent website) |
The overall time was 57:33, just a hair off my arbitrary goal. (Note: the official results seem to have missed my chip time, so I'm listed as finishing in 57:39. This is obviously not a big deal, though it meant placing 47th instead of 44th. The horror!) Speaking of age group results, I placed 3rd in the Masters group, 10 seconds behind Mike and another guy who I didn't even know was up there. Congrats to those guys on a great race; I clearly have some work to do. I wish I could have had an uninhibited last mile, but the cramps come with the territory for me, so it's time for some shorter races!
Afterward, I caught up with several racers, took a dip in the ocean with Jonny, and got further drenched in a downpour jogging back to my car. In subsequent days, my legs were insanely sore, as usual, after this race, once again proving the old maxim that leg soreness is inversely proportional to race fitness.
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