Posted in running

Victory! 5K run with the granddaughters

An ocean of people stretched out for a hundred yards in front of us and even further behind us. In just a few minutes we would hear the starting gun for the Synovus 5K for charity run. My wife and I were walking/running this shorter race with three of our granddaughters, while their parents ran the longer Gate River Run 15K in Jacksonville, Florida. I pushed a stroller with the oldest of the girls (age 5), while my wife had a double stroller containing the younger sisters (ages 3 and almost 1). The downtown street was thick with 1,600 runners, so it took us over a minute to move through the starting gate. Even before we did, my granddaughter was urging me, “We’re going to have to go faster, Grandpa!”

We were able to walk at a brisk pace for the first mile or so. We passed one runner dressed up like a giant chicken, another couple dressed as Mario and Luigi, and a few firefighters in full gear. Before long, the participants were spaced out enough that we could run for hundred yard stretches, weaving in and out of walkers and slower runners.

Not too far into the first mile, at 9:00 am, we counted the nine bells of an old church carillon. At the halfway point, we drifted over to the right to grab a cup at the water station. I took a sip of the lukewarm liquid and handed the cup to my granddaughter. I asked, “How’s the water?”

“It’s delicious!”

Once we got to the two mile mark, my granddaughter saw some police car lights keeping traffic at bay and wondered out loud, “Is that the finish line?”

I explained, “No, we can’t see it yet. I’ll let you know when we’re we getting close.” We had that same conversation three times in the next half-mile.

For most of the race, my wife was a few yards ahead of us. This was a concern. “Grandpa, we need to go faster. LeeLee (her name for my wife) is going to smoke us!”

Finally, as we turned onto a slight downhill stretch, I could see the finish line ahead of us. I said, “There it is!” I ran the last quarter mile into the fairgrounds, and said, “Put your hands up in the air!” She did and proclaimed our victory (over LeeLee) as we crossed the finish line with a time of 43:11. My wife with her two riders finished just behind us. We didn’t get smoked after all.

I’ve run lots of 5Ks, along with an assortment of 10Ks, five mile runs, and a few marathons. But I’ve never finished a road race pushing a stroller.

Posted in Life, running

Going out for a Thanksgiving run

My wife, younger daughter and I decided to run a 5k race this morning. It’s the first race I’ve run in I know don’t how long. I looked through some old journals, but haven’t been able to pinpoint the last time I ran a road race.

I signed us all up online last week and paid our entry fee. While five-mile races cost an average of $5 in the 1980s, I had to cough up $35 each for this race. Of course, you get a t-shirt (this year’s was bright orange!), a medal, electronic timing, and some of the proceeds supported a local food bank, so I guess that’s not so bad.

The fairly mild fall Florida weather suddenly turned cooler last night, and I woke to a fifty degree morning. Now I have to decide what to wear. It’ll be cool while waiting for the start, but I’ll generate plenty of heat once the race starts. Shorts for sure. My rule of thumb was always a t-shirt down to fifty, and a long sleeve t-shirt if it was colder than that. I never wear anything on my legs unless the temps dip below freezing. It’s been a while since I ran, so I opted for a long sleeve t-shirt with a light short t sleeve on top. Once we got going, a t-shirt would have been enough, but this worked.

We arrived about twenty five minutes before the start time. Many runners were already there. And they were dressed in everything imaginable. The male high school cross country runners were in shorts with no shirt. The season had just ended and they were in top shape. Quite a few runners and walkers were in tights, shirts, coats, vests, hats, and gloves. I saw lots of turkey hats. One woman had her head poked through a large cardboard thanksgiving dinner table, set with plates, silverware and fake food. I saw a few runners wearing tutus, too.

When we noticed the crowd drifting towards the starting line, we followed. Suddenly, a siren sounded and we were on our way. Everyone had to funnel through a ten-foot wide inflatable starting gate, so we didn’t really begin running for about ninety seconds.

We settled into a comfortable thirteen-minute-per-mile pace as the sun appeared above the tree line. It turned out to be a nice day for a run. The course took us through live oak canopied streets, sidewalks, and trails along the intracoastal waterway and then back towards the starting area. Cups of water were available at the halfway point. I always take advantage of the water, even though it was only a three mile run. The course was well marked, and lots of sheriffs deputies were out to control traffic and keep an eye on the runners.

We only took a couple of short walking breaks. We passed many walkers who had started toward the front of the pack. We were passed by many serious runners who had gotten stuck in the crowd behind us. It always takes about a mile for the crowd to thin out and you find yourself among those running your pace.

Without any split designations, I could only guess how far we had run. Suddenly (at least for me), we rounded a corner and there was the finish line. We all finished together in the vicinity of forty minutes. Race results were online by the time we got home, letting us know we had all finished in the top half of all who came out today. The overall winner was a young man who finished in just under fifteen minutes. I believe he was one of the local high school cross country runners. The last person crossed the finish line just under the one hour mark.

This was my wife’s first official race. My daughter had run a few before. And I ran a lot of road races in my twenties. When you run with a crowd, you often do better than you would alone. Once you’ve finished, you start thinking about your next one, training more, and running faster next time. And of course, no matter how hard or easy the race was, it gives you an excuse to eat whatever you want for Thanksgiving!

Posted in Life

5K

Last Saturday, I ran my first race in about 4 or 5 years.  Not my fastest time, but OK for an old guy.  25:49 was good enough for 12th overall (out of 66) and 2nd in my age group (50-59).  We ran 5,000 meters out and back on the beach from the pier in Daytona Beach in a race to raise funds for Parkinson’s Awareness.  Now I’ve got the running bug again and know I can recapture some of my previous speed.  My best 5K ever happend about 30 years ago when I finally broke 18 minutes at a 1981 race around Lake Takanassee on a Monday night in NJ.

Funny, I don’t feel  that much different than I did back then.  I certainly don’t feel 51.  But I ran across my birth certificate the other day and I can’t deny that the years have passed.