So this is our local, very hilly race, so local that you can buy your entry the morning of the race, but I bought mine a few days ahead – my first race of the year, so I better commit.
I always hope for auspicious bib numbers: “3… 2… 1… Blast off!”A civilized race starts at 9:30 a.m. That gave me time to eat a LOT – BP coffee, fried egg, banana, and UCAN starch drink on the drive over. When I got there, it was really cold and windy – 35 degrees and 17-18 mph winds coming off the Hudson River; I was shivering as I walked from the high school parking lot. The running warm-up didn’t make me much warmer. At the last minute – after doing some yoga actually raised my body temp – I took back my checked bag and stuffed my heavy running jacket into it. Dressed for speed not for comfort (and not, as my sons would tell you, for fashion): T-shirt, long-sleeved shirt, light tights under tri shorts (side pockets for nutrition), heavy hat and light gloves.
Sure enough, starting up the hill out of the village Main Street, I was warm in less than a mile and glad I had dumped the jacket (as, yes, Coach Debi had advised). This was the first time we ran the “normal” course – the last 3 times I had done this race, snow or muddy trails kept us off the aqueduct and out of Rockefeller Preserve, but there we were, trotting on through, only a short hill at the start (instead of the 4-mile ascent of prior years).
I was shooting to start at 7:52, then descend to 7:25’s. I stayed on track the first few miles, and it was silent and sparse, bare trees and beautiful quiet, and the folks around me are deadly quiet and serious…
And I am in this to be steady and stay present and do the best I can, today, keeping an eye on my watch (okay that was a good mile) and my heart rate (hmmm, zone 3? Let’s back it down a little), but by Mile 4.5 here’s that steep climb (oh, yeah, I trained on this with Dietmar and Ziv months ago, that was fun, this is a little less fun), and I get passed by a lot of younger runners, oh, well, stay present, imagining more than the mile I’m in right now is too big a picture.
Running along the river, chilly and windy but beautiful. By mile 6, we’ve had all of 2 water stops, but I have forgotten that I wanted to urinate, and we hit the road that loops around the Regeneron offices (ah, so much nicer doing this counterclockwise, bigger hill going down than up, and skipping that stupid parking lot!), and start climbing the Route 117 highway, I’ve slogged up here on my bike with Alan Golds, it’s somehow easier on the run (I later realize we ran with the wind at our backs!). I’m slower on the uphills, freaking out a little when I see at the start of one mile that I’m running at a 9:47 pace, but then my actual pace sets in – my slowest mile ends up being 8:14 (which ain’t bad), and what the hell, a good mile here, a slower mile there.
OMG, here comes the lead runner, screaming downhill on the other side of the highway (second place comes a full 2 minutes later…), what an inspiration (me: “What, he’s 3 miles ahead of us?” Younger woman passing me, “I don’t want to think about it…”), she’s not male or my age group, it’s okay… but by the time we turn and start the Mile 8-9 descent the wind is against us (who cares, it’s DOWNHILL)
I become convinced that the tall guy up ahead in in the blue jacket is in my age group, and I assume there’s at least 1 or 2 guys ahead of HIM who took off like rockets at the start, and another guy who is probably my age passes me, so here I am fighting for something like 4th or 5th place. Oh, well, I will NOT look at the total time elapsed, and I might not meet my goals, but keeping my eye on each mile’s pace keeps me pushing harder.
By Mile 10 we’re climbing out of Phelps Hospital (I hate this hill). But lo! my calves are not cramping for the first time in the last 3 half marathons (stop thinking about it, it’s making me imagine they are cramping) and as we approach the old railway station (oh that upcoming hill killed me a few years ago, shut up, we’re on THIS mile), I grab my last sip of water from a gaggle of kids.
The wind off the river is pretty damn cold but hurray! the course doesn’t go around that stupid little lighthouse. I’m heading into Mile 12 and my calves still haven’t cramped up (no, don’t think about it!) and then through those quiet but flat suburban streets and then it’s UP that hellacious hill for the last 0.2 mile and the finish line looks so far away and I sprint as best I can and CROSS IT.
1:39:25 – slower than my best, but… faster than my prior five half marathons. And my fastest since 2014 (beating out 2015 by 1 second)! If this is really 13.1 miles (despite my Garmin saying it’s a ¼ mile short), then I averaged 7:35 min/mile. (My Garmin also says it was 1,010 feet of climbing — but the course map says 1,643 feet).
And…. 2nd place! 2/27 AG, 107/702 overall. Proving: never give up. Also proving: no matter how old those other guys looked… I’m older.
With my annual nemesis, Michael Kaiser — 1st in his age group. He’ll always be younger and faster… (Note: A civilized race has beer at the finish line.)