We had a couple inches of snow on the ground when I woke up Thanksgiving morning. I didn't question whether I not I would run the 18th Annual Feaster Five (5K and 5 mile), I just got dressed and waited for my mom (who was walking the race) and our chauffeur, the sexy fisherman.
We headed down to Andover, MA and as we approached the exit ramp off 495 North, we noticed it was full of vehicles not moving very far. I knew the starting line wasn't far from the off ramp, and since they were expecting about 7,000 participants, I wasn't too surprised. The line started to move, and Billy graciously offered to drop Mom and me off right near the starting line, and he would park the truck and meet us.
Most of you don't know what Billy drives. Let's just say that if I've had a tough squatting/deadlift workout, it's harder to get in it. And most of you would be surprised to see me in it, enjoying myself. It's high off the ground, and you HAVE to use a handle to hoist yourself up in it. My mom found out just how high off the ground it is. She would probably tell you herself if she could stop laughing for longer than a minute to tell you.
We were stopped at an intersection. Mom and I grabbed our things, she opened the passenger door and promptly fell right out of the truck into the slush and snow in the gutter. I got out immediately to try to help her up, and she said, "Don't touch me!" She was sort of sitting, but with one leg curled under the other, and she looked injured. I looked up at Billy, thinking the worst. Then she started laughing.
She got up herself, and complained that her pants were all wet. Was she okay? Yes, a small scrape on her hand, and an urgent need to use the bathroom. She later said that she didn't even know she was falling, so she didn't have time to brace herself, which probably would have resulted in an injury.
A little later, we lined up. The snowflakes kept coming. After the national anthem and a little banter from the MC,
we were off! Well, in a few minutes after the start, we were off. There were so many runners that it took us about 5 minutes to cross the start line. Luckily, we were chip timed, so the later start doesn't affect personal times.
I planned to run this race at a moderate, pretty easy pace. I injured my right shin four days prior, by running too fast for 2.75 mi without any warm up. I had sharp shooting pains in my shin while laying in bed or sitting at work. I didn't run again until the race, mostly because I paid $22 to register and $8 for a commemorative glass, and the LAST thing I wanted to do was WALK.
After a 0.5 mi straight, we headed up a LONG hill that was covered with snow, slush and already weary bodies, some of which decided to stop running (right in front of you, as you're still running the same pace) and simply start walking. I found I expended a lot of energy swerving around people walking, as well as trying to maintain even footing on the slushy road.
I have to say that I felt pretty cardiovascularly fit on this hill. Either that, or I just paced myself very well. Towards the top of the hill, I was able to pass a lot of people who were out of gas. As we rounded the corner onto High Street, we headed downhill. I've learned how to run downhill (it's not as crazy as it sounds), and I found this training to be of help during this race. I made up a little time, but I did not take the downhill as aggressively as I would have had the pavement been dry. I was either going to run right into people, or fall on my ass. Neither seemed appealing.
The 5 mile merged with us at the bottom of the downhill. Those were some fast runners! We 5K-ers stayed to the left of the double yellow line, and the 5 milers ran right past us. I was struck at how effortless it looked for them to run that fast. I wasn't feeling particularly taxed (keeping in mind my shin), and neither did they. But they had covered about twice the mileage and were flying past me, and looked like they were running at the same effort.
As we turned on route 133, I decided this was the time to speed up. People looked tired. I felt great. I picked it up as I played Ice Cube's Put Your Ass Into It in my head. It felt like any other training run. I passed a lot of people at this point in the race. I'm so used to running alone, though, that I got annoyed at slower runners in front of me. I needed to pass, and there were so many people, it was difficult. I admit, I crossed the double yellows and ran in the 5 mile lane at times.
I started to hear yelling and cheers. We were close to the finish line. I looked ahead at the turn up York Street and inwardly groaned that it was an unplowed snowy and icy hill. I knew the finish line HAD to be very close, so I mentally prepared to unleash the last of my energy reserve to power up the hill.
I scanned the sidelines and saw Billy. Even during races, I feel alone while running. It's an internal experience, even while racing with 7,000 people. I am constantly checking in with myself while running, checking on my breathing, my energy level, and coaching myself through a tough spot. When I saw Billy, I felt immediately encouraged and happy and not so alone.
I was able to pass one more person at that point, and then my quads started to burn. I really think if the pavement was dry, it would have been easier. I passed the event photographer and completely forgot to smile. I'm sure my picture will be interesting.
I turned into Brickstone Square and
passed over the finish line. I was out of breath, but felt great. I reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair beneath my ear band, and discovered it was a frozen little icicle. We all filed into the parking garage where I walked through every day for a month for my temp job as a project coordinator for a credentialing project in managed care. I stopped and removed my timing chip, then went to collect my water, juice, apple (passed on the cookies, bananas and bagels) and then outside to get my apple pie.
I wanted to finish this race in about 35 minutes.
I finished the Feaster 5K in 35:47, almost 5 minutes faster than the CIGNA 5K (my first race) in August at 40:23.
Next race:
Boston's Run to Remember - March 12, 2006
