Sorry that it's taken me all weekend to write this race report (Mikelle.) The thing is, I don't consider it a race report since I quit racing around mile 4. Let me explain. I'll start at the beginning.
We've been getting a lot of rain the last couple of weeks. A lot for us Arizonans. So much so that we began to panic. There were rumors that they might cancel the race. Of course we wouldn't cancel if it were merely wet drops of precipitation falling from the heavens no matter the force, but the London's Run 10k is run all on farm roads. Farm roads = dirt. Rain = water. Dirt + water = mud.
There were no emails sent out that they were canceling, and the skies were mostly blue, so we were good to go. I got up at 5am. I did P90X's Stretch X which is about an hour's worth of stretching everything. Then I got myself dressed for success, had a banana and some Gatorade, and jogged over to the race. It's only 2.5 miles from my house, and I thought that it would be a nice warm-up. I jogged at a 9:35 pace trying to avoid any sinkholes that Queen Creek is famous for. As I got to Schnepf Farm, there was some nice slick mud I had to go through. I arrived about 15 minutes before the start of the half marathon.
I took off my long-sleeved shirt and mud-on-the-bottom-sweat pants and started to stretch some more. My wife found me and gave me a kiss for luck. If you haven't noticed, I've added two names to the blogger's I've met in real life section under my profile. I knew flatlander was coming to run the half marathon, and I went to look for him as they were lining up. I couldn't find him. I guess I was looking for the guy with the pixilated face. His sister, lightitup, also came, but I didn't know that until after his race.
The 10k started 10 minutes after the half marathon. I made sure to get up towards the front this year. Last year I made the mistake of starting near the back. We watched the clock tick up to 10:00:00, and we were off. I took my first look at the Garmin about a quarter mile into it and noticed I was running at a 6:30 pace. I knew I needed to slow down even though a lot of people would pass me. I was confident that I would pass them back if I stuck to the plan. The plan was to run 7:15's. The first mile came in at 7:12.
The second mile was a bit slower than I wanted at 7:25. We started to hit the walkers and stragglers of the half marathon. We were also going slightly uphill and against the wind. The third mile was even worse at 7:43. The fourth mile is where the fun began to start. At this point I'm passing half marathoners right and left, literally. There's a fork in the road where the HM-er's turn left and the 10k-er's continue straight. Because I was in the middle of all the HM-er's I went the wrong way. Luckily I looked to my right and saw people running on the road less traveled. Noticing I was the only one with a blue bib, I had the pleasure of turning around. I couldn't even cut the corner because of a big irrigation ditch that I was too chicken to try to jump over. I started waving at everyone asking them how they were doing. I heard someone say, "Oops." I think I only lost about 10 seconds, but there was a sizable gap between me and the pack ahead of me. Now I was heading downhill so this mile was a bit faster at 7:27. I started to curse Brent for questioning if I was ready for 7:15's.
Around mile 3.6 the faster HM-er's rejoined us. Now I couldn't tell who was who again, so when we reached another turn I yelled out to the volunteers, "10k?" The volunteer says, "10k that way (signaling to my right) half marathon that way (to the left.) I turned right with around 15 people following me. After a couple hundred yards I see someone booking my way who I believe must be the leader. "One." I count. Then two, three, four, five, six....Six. Where's everyone else? Hmm...there's quite a gap there. Last year they had a little 180 turn. This must be it. Okay, but there's no one else. That guy sent us the wrong way. Well thank you jerks that figured out you were going the wrong way and didn't say anything. 'preciate that.
As we got to the next set of volunteers who were out where the 2-mile fun run was, we were met with puzzled looks. They told us to go left. I looked at my Garmin and knew I'd be running more than I bargained. Runners started to pass me and I didn't care. Some were saying, "Does anyone know where we are?" I told them they'd sent us the wrong way. My hopes and dreams were smashed. This is where I stopped racing and just ran to the finish line. Garmin measured it a 6.75 miles. My last mile splits were 7:54, 8:13, and an 8:23 pace for the last 0.75. Only a little over a half mile extra, so not too bad, but here's the kicker. I talked to my friend who finished third. He said that his Garmin measured 6.0 miles. That means the little 180 that we were supposed to do, didn't get done by them either. Well, it did get done, by the HM-er's. And actually, they were supposed to do another quarter mile further before they turned around.
Why all the confusion? The rain. They changed the 10k race at the last minute due to mud. But they didn't do a good enough job at telling the volunteers what was going on. So, the 10k-er's did distances ranging from 6 to 7.5 miles, and the HM-er's did 12.6 miles. I was upset after the "run", but as they say, what are you going to do? I told flatlander I would run him in, so I drank some vitamin water stuff and headed back out. I stopped at the last aid station and they were nice enough to let me have an orange slice. Where were all the aid stations when I was racing? Oh yeah. I remember now.
At the 11 mile mark I found flatlander. I saw his famous orange shirt and knobby knees. I knew it was him. I'd never met him, but nonetheless it was a joyous reunion. I gave him a low five and paced him home. I told him he needed to hug the bank of the canal because that's where there was less mud. I even got in front of him to let him draft on me. We talked about his trip and his other family that was running. He had a nephew that did quite well. Read about it in his report. He also told me that lightitup had come. I met her afterward and she told me it was okay to make comments on her blog. I was relieved to hear that. Everyone should go do that now.
Here we are. Me, flatlander, and lightitup. Despite the lack of organization this year, meeting fellow bloggers makes it all better.
Final Results - 41st out of 621. 6th out of 42 age division.
| 