Life, Liberty & the Pursuit of Happiness

 

Not much training since I did the Bridge Run on November 11th.

Two long runs (say 4 miles): One on the new Land Trust trail (between E. Main Rd and Michell’s Lane) and two loops around the reservoir between 1st and 2nd Beach. and a few short  runs: one around the reservoir and another along 1st Beach and Cliff Walk.

Today is the 2nd Pie Run for me. Beautiful morning, clear and sunny…wearing shorts.

Seems like thousands of runners lining up in front of the YMCA. I’m finding a slot with my usual three-quarters of the way back of the pack group. Only a five-miler so I have to keep a fast pace (judt like the Bridge Run).

Jockeying for position among the crowd…iPod going and getting in the groove.

Eclectic mix of runners, but I don’t see to many in my age group…several runners pushing baby strollers.

Turning onto to Tuckerman Rd and looking across First Beach to Cliff Walk and mansions bathed in sunlight.

Trying to visualize my pace… I can see the push off my forefoot as I set my rhythmic breathing. Nice pace, it seems.

Picking out runners ahead of me to catch (or try to). These targets really help me move and keep a race pace. It’s working, I’m gaining.

Rounding Tuckerman and heading along the coast back toward Purgatory Road. I’m trying to gain on this couple that I want to believe are not as fast as me. They look about early 30s but heavier than me. So like I often say “I should be able to beat those two.” However, I know this is often a fallacy. Anyway, I’m not gaining…they persistently stay about thirty feet ahead (sometimes more).

Runners catching me a pulling ahead. I find one and stay right behind, picking up the pace until I tire and have to release her. The first couple is still way up there.

Purgatory and the right turn downhill to Second Beach is looming ahead.

Catching a young woman…she’s wearing “University of Dublin” on her shirt. I yell “Go Irish” pointing at My Notre Dame cap. She smiles as I pass and make the turn down to the beach.

Runners passing me and me passing runners. Kids who usually go out too fast are tiring. Parents slow down and walk with them, then start running again.

Don’t know my pace, there are no splits, but it seems fast enough. Heading for the turn around point just past the half-way point. Checking my watch, looks like just over a ten-minute pace. Damn, I’m hoping to be under ten.

Picking up, road is flat now, but the Purgatory hill is coming up.

I still see that couple that I was trying to catch. The woman is stopping and walking, while the man goes on ahead. Passing the woman, I see the man picking up his pace.

Starting up the hill…first part is brutal and I gotta stay strong…can’t lose the pace. I know hills are heartbreakers, but also racemakers. Others may falter, but I keep the pace. At least that’s the idea, but I don’t see it happening yet.

Picking up a little now as the hill flattens slightly in front of St George’s School. Someone on the sideline yells “Go Striders.” That’s me, love to hear it.

Still see that guy up there. Reaching the top of the hill and I hear “Go Irish.” It’s her again. “looking good,” I smile and she pulls ahead.

At the top of the hill, while others ease up and rest from the climb I open up and run as fast as I can for a long burst. Dodging in and out of runners, I accelerate, passing thirty-somethings, kids, strollers and heavier runners that I should beat (like I said, a fallacy). I’m evening gaining on “Go Irish” and that guy I’ve been following for miles.

Bottom of the hill now…turning inland to the “Y” and the finish line..maybe a half mile left.

I’m reeling in that guy slowly…and I decide to just catch him no matter what…even if I can’t hold him.

Blowing by the guy, and now I want to stay ahead, so I’m mentally looking over my shoulder and hoping he’s not gaining.

Really hurting now…my knees, soles of my feet. Pain from the waist down and breathing severly labored.

“Go Irish” still in front but I’m right behind. Finish lime is looming and I don’t care about the guy behind me (wherever he is).

Trying to decide if I want to make a run at “Go Irish” and do a test pick up. Can’t maintain this for long.

We’re almost there. I decide to stay on her tail and follow her across the line.

Done! I tap her shoulder and congratulate her effort. “Followed you all the way in and across the line, nice race.” She smiles, sweat rolling off her face.

I look to see Diane snapping my picture.

Whew! Staggering to the grass and drop to my knees, catching my breath slowly.

Check my stop watch: 53 minutes and maybe 50 seconds, don’t remember exactly. But I missed my sub-ten minute pace.

No biggie, I gave it everything. And that feels good.

Love these people. They make it possible for me to enjoy these peak experiences.

And they gave me a great shirt and a Table Talk pie!