Kid's Play

This weekend Rick and I stayed with my parents in California so we could participate in my family's favorite Labor Day weekend tradition, Sycamore Sunday.

Sycamore Sunday is an event my mother's running club puts on every Labor Day Sunday which usually includes an early morning trail run up Sycamore Canyon and a relaxing BBQ on the beach.

One may picture spry young 20-40 somethings while imagining this scene, but actually I think the average mean age is 60. I do remember when these folks would sit around and recount the details of their latest marathon, but lately I have been hearing stuff like, "I don't need to prove anything anymore." "I will just do 4 miles." "Wow! You ran 13 miles in (less than three hours)! That is fast!" Hanging around these folks is enough to prop up any midpack runner's ego.

On the other hand I have been trying to imagine where and what I will be doing on Sycamore Sunday when I am 60. Will I be sitting in the easy chair or will I be heading up the canyon for a trail run?

Sunday our group decided to host a couple races "for the kids." One was a half marathon (13.1 miles) for "big kids" and the other a 50 m dash on the beach. I knew the 50 m dash was for the little ones (picture toddlers with barely their land legs holding them up -- too cute!).

I signed up for the 13.1 miler figuring it has been a long time since I have raced. Well just my luck California is experiencing a heat wave, hotter than Las Vegas, just in time for my visit. And nevermind this race is starting at the way-too-hot hour of 8:12 am. In Las Vegas I may have been long-finished with my long Sunday run by that time. I noticed most of the "big kids" decided not to participate and run 4-8 miles instead. I was beginning to see the wisdom of their ways when we approached the starting line and I saw the treeless route sprawled out ahead.

I think maybe 10 of us went for it. For sure it was going to be a hot one and today wasn't the day to push it. Most went with the "it's just a run" attitude. I sort of went with that mindset, but knew that if I had anything left with half to go, I would pick it up, provided the heat didn't get to me first.

I headed out with a pack of four men with one gradually breaking off early in the race to leave us in the dust. I couldn't believe it considering the heat, but figured he is a big boy and knows his pace. Hey, one person's 10 minute mile pace is another's 7 minute mile pace. So on a hot day you up it by a minute or two. I figured he wasn't going so fast that I possibly couldn't catch him later on. However, it was 100 degrees and I doubt I would have the gumption to catch anyone later in the race. In any case, I let the easy pace of my comrades dictate my pace and hold me back for the first half.

At a certain point we split into two "couples." I was running in the back with a fellow named Mike who usually leaves everyone, myself included, in the dust! He was feeling under the weather and kept questioning outloud the sanity of running any distance in the heat with his condition. The pace was easy and conversational and the conversation was compelling enough that I gave no thought to effort. That may have been good or bad, depending on how one view's distractions during a race. I guess it was good since it got me through the first half pain-free. However, I don't know if I was running too fast or too slow. We did walk up a hill together so that did help me conserve some energy for later on.

Maybe a couple miles later I bid my friend goodbye. I don't mind walk breaks, but it seemed like he was ready for a permanent one. There were people behind us he could walk with. He had plenty of water too. Personally, the idea of walking three hours versus running about two in the 100 degree heat seemed less draining. I would probably run out of water faster by walking. And now that the hills were pretty much overwith, I was ready to pick it up.

Well, this surge of energy lasted about a mile until I hit the hot flats again and saw the mile marker for 8 miles. Yikes -- five hot miles left! Normally, when it is not 100 degrees out I would be thinking, "Just five miles left." Now I was questioning my sanity for signing up for this thing. But really, I just tried to ignore the "hot" part of it and focus on a steady pace.

At some point I caught up with the fellows ahead of me at a water spigot. I asked how many miles to go and one said, "Five." Five? Five! FIVE!?!!! How can that be possible. I just ran about 1.5 to get there. Maybe the mile marker was wrong. How can I keep up this pace in the heat when the miles are sooooo long? Did I was energy needlessly? Will I soon be joining the troops doing the death march through the hot Valley of Death?

I should have more respect for my "elders" I thought as I set off again. I could be reduced to a crawl and they will be hiking right by at a steady 15 minute mile pace. Those thoughts were pushed out of my mind as I did some estimates on my watch. (Point of note -- my Garmin GPS watch bit the bullet so I was using my mother's borrowed Timex with watch hands.) I gave myself an 40 minutes to an hour to finish the race and if I didn't finish it by then, I could walk all I wanted. That window was to allow for the two extra miles the nice guy with the GPS decided to throw in.

So off I went, keeping it steady meanwhile feeling the sun's heat bore into me. I honestly had no idea when I hit the main trail again. The sight of hikers in flip flops not carrying water bottles was a good tip off though. I knew the end was near.

When I finally finished, the race director and the few people at the finish line said nothing and did nothing. No clapping, no nuthin'! I was pissed. Yes, I was glad I was finished (the last two miles were neverending); however, a little congratulations would have gone a long way. I almost walked off.

But I jogged over and said, "Hi," patiently waiting until they were done doing whatever it was they were doing.

"Oh you are done. Did you do the whole thing?" the race director asked me.

"Um, yes, that is what I signed up to do." I said as she searched me with her big eyes, probably for wings.

"Oh, ok, wow! It's just that several people came in already deciding not to do the whole thing. I can't believe you did the whole thing!"

I looked down at her timer, hoping above hope she pressed the button. She did, but I think she shaved off a minute to make up for her gaff of missing me.

She proclaimed me the woman's race winner and pinned a blue ribbon on me -- First Place it said. LOL, I thought, were there other women competing? But ok, I guess I am in. (Later I found out there were others. I will have to check out the NBB site.) I was happier to find out my time was 2:14. Not a PR for me by any means, but definitely a respectable time in the heat and also considering the two walk breaks with my sick friend and the water spigot break. Just what I wanted. And that was Garmin-free. I think I have run the same before on a colder day. In any case, the accomplishment was finishing alive on such a hot day.

I almost forgot, I also won a whopping 32 ounce water bottle filled with jelly bellies. That will make a great conversation piece on my desk at my new job (I got the job and I start in two weeks!). I tried to post a picture of it, but had a little technical difficulty.

Later after relaxing on the beach and enjoying some BBQ fixin's (I did pretty good in the calorie department, by the way) I watched the kids in their 50 meter dash. They were all smiling and jumping in the air before and after the race. Actually they resembled all the "big kids" (us) running around with big goofy smiles on their faces. Both little kids and adults proudly flaunted their winning ribbons pinned to their shirts. Where else could one find such a display of enthusiasm on a hot Sunday morning. Both sets were already setting goals to "beat last this year's time" next year! Ha Ha.

If finding the proverbial fountain of youth is one of the effect's of running, I will keep running. Meantime I will try not to "eat" my trophy :p