Race #6

Yes, I do know how to count, I just wanted to get this race on the blog while it is fresh. I’ll catch up on #4 and #5 shortly.

The New Hampshire trip started out bad. But for once, being an insomniac paid off for me. Thursday morning I had my usual 4:30am wake up and thought I should probably set my alarm for 6:00am just in case I actually fell back asleep. At 5:42 I came to again and something told me to check my flight info and confirm my departure from RDU at 8:40am. I reached for the folder at the end of the bed, opened it and saw that my flight from RDU left at 6:50 – in an hour! It was the flight from Baltimore to Manchester that left at 8:40! Immediate panic. I jumped out of bed, threw the few things I’d set aside the night before into a bag, jammed the toothbrush in my mouth and was out the door in 10 minutes. I walked out the back door into a torrential downpour that I knew would slow down my drive time. What could I do but laugh at my blond moment!

The rest of the trip to New Hampshire was uneventful. Upon my arrival I got my first sign that maybe the race wouldn’t be a total wash out for me. My rental car? A bright blue Ford Mustang. What better symbol of speed could I ask for?

Have you ever asked a New Englander for directions? It is as if they revel in the opportunity to help someone out. The motorcycle policeman I stopped to help me get around Portsmouth told me at least three times how to get to my destination along with comments about the quality of the map I was using and the state of the weather. This happened as well in Massachusetts when Craig, John and I stopped a fellow for directions. We not only got directions but exchanged life story as well.

The Thunder Chicken 5K is put on by the Portsmouth Rotary Club along with a barbecue chicken cook out and is held at the Strawbery Bank Museum. Strawbery Bank is a living history museum of an early settlement in Portsmouth. I toured the museum before the race to kill time then went and hung out in Prescott Park across the street. While sitting on a park bench an elderly gentleman, Andy, sat down next to me and struck up a conversation. Conversation of course started with comments about the weather and where we were both from. He was from Andover, MA and looked to be in his 80’s. I told him of my reason for being there and plans for running in all 50 states. Which lead to numerous topics from bonsai trees to golf to travel, including my dream of spending three months in Sienna, Italy studying Italian. He assured me I would accomplish it all! He had such a great positive outlook about life even while recognizing that his was coming down the home stretch.

I finally headed over to the start line to check out the competition. The first dilemma was actually finding the start line. The race had chip timing so I was looking for a starting pad but there wasn’t one in sight. As people started to mingle I asked a couple if they knew where the start was. They pointed out a strip of duct tape stretched across the road. That’s what I call high tech.

There were over 300 runners including a lot of young kids and moms with strollers. Overall it was a healthy looking bunch, I started getting nervous. I found a spot near the back of the pack, but in front of the strollers. I started the race at a pretty good pace and had a ten minute split at the first mile, but I knew I couldn’t keep up that pace. And I couldn’t. During mile two I started to get a gut ache, probably from the water I drank too soon to the start line. So I walked for about two minutes to catch my breathe and then turned it back on. Just before the second mile mark I convinced myself that I had to be the last one in the race. I had passed no one in a long time and it seemed like everyone was passing me – including all the old ladies and young kids (and when I say young kids, I mean four and five year olds!). Of course I had that flash of “why in the hell am I doing this?” And what possessed me to tell so many people about this absolutely stupid idea??

Somewhere in the last half mile, getting cheered on by the runners that were heading back to their cars after completing the race 10 to 15 minutes previously, I had an attitude adjustment. I could finish this and I’d live to jog another day! And how fantastic to have the announcer actually announce my name and city/state over the PA system as I crossed the finish line. Okay, I know that means I’m one of the last runners as there is enough space between the runners at this point to announce our entire life story!

I crossed the finish line at 34:12. I was a bit shocked as I thought for sure it was going to take me at least 40 minutes. I was definitely hurting by the end and didn’t have a kick left in me at the end – unlike the six year old kid who came barreling past me for the last 100 yards.

The chicken dinner was great, one of the sweetest ears of corn I ever remember eating. As I was driving out of the parking lot a guy came up to me and told me he’d been admiring my car but couldn’t understand why I got a muscle car with an automatic transmission! I assured him that if this was my car it would have had a standard transmission, but alas this was a rental.

Friday before heading home I headed to the beach for a couple hours of sunshine and a drive along the coast. The natives kept telling me this was the best day they’d had all summer, I assured them I was responsible and had brought it with me from Florida!

Next weekend I’m off to Memphis for race #7. I’ve got to get in a few work outs this week as my legs are still hurting today, Saturday.

Oh yeah, I wasn’t last.