Day 20: The Falmouth

To start it all off, nothing pisses me off more than driving 2 hours and waiting in traffic to run a race and seeing people 4,5, even 6 miles away from the start running to get to the line. If the 7.3 miles you  signed up for wasn't long enough for you, find another friggin race! Oh yeah, once the race is done, STOP RUNNING!!! You're not impressing me by sauntering away while I'm crawling on my hands and knees knowing I'll soon be walking like Andy Dufrane after he meets the sisters in Shawshank Redemption.

Phew, glad to get that off my chest.

I'm so glad to have been a part of this day. I witnessed an overwhelming number of experiences that have shaped me for the better. And I could not and would not have done it without "Playground" (apparently that's what all the cool people are calling this challenge, lol. I love it, like when they dropped the THE from Facebook, it really rings.) so thank you all again for your support throughout.

The race began 2 days prior with a call from Geoff explaining how important hydrating 48 hours before and what I needed to do for sleep and all other important aspects of preparation (I say it in that context because I have since forgotten; it was that important). I immediately put down my vodka lemonade (kidding, I was at work) and followed protocol, drinking water and eating small amounts of good foods, heading to bed immediately after my shift ended and asked my children to all sleep through the night because mommy and I needed rest. None of them listened. I did get a decent amount of sleep, but felt groggy all day, chalking it up to crappy weather. The following night, I continued to follow suit, stretching when I could and making sure to keep the water intake regulated.

The morning of the race started at 4:50 on the nose for me. Cami started crying in need of a feeding and my eyes shot open as if I overslept for the race. I was happy to feed her today and be awake in a quiet house for even a few moments. I started to dial it all in, visualizing the parts of the race I remembered and how I was going to push through the parts I knew I would struggle with. A final stretch at the house, geared up and headed out to meet with Corey and the rest of the group heading down. Left the house at 6:30, an hour after I wanted to leave. We met up, quickly discussed being late and made it from Providence to the Bourne Bridge in 42 minutes, something I hope to never have to do again in my lifetime. For anyone who has not run this race yet, the runners get dropped off at Falmouth High School and are then bussed over to Woods hole to the start.At the staging area, I was excitedly surprised at how over the top people were with Cady in our group. Corey went to the bathroom as we headed in line to the busses and people all over approached us to wish Cady a good race and send words of encouragement, like a family of runner should. It made me proud to be there with her. Corey has emphasized in the past how important this was to him and Cadence, mostly because it gave her a sport/hobby in which the family could cheer her on for as she has attended so many baseball games, dance recitals, plays and countless other events for her siblings, now it was her turn for the family to support her. The bus ride over was something of an even in itself. Cadence could not sit still, looking at all the others on the bus, knowing she was about to run with them had her bouncing all over the place. It was fun to see her so excited.

One of my favorite parts of the race is the drop off, specifically the group of individuals handing out free "ketchakenyan" Coffee. The walk to the start and corrals, smoking hot women in spandex all over the place (had to go there) has a way of building a certain type of anxiety in you. I was nervous, as I am prior to EVERY event I participate in, though this was different, it was a good anxiety. It was an anxiety of beginning, the first of hopefully many races running along side Corey and Cady, races with my family, races with meaning. I thought often about how our kids would like to run with us soon (Corey has 4 kids too) and how cool it would be to have a multi family "thing" that we could do frequently that taught them more than fitness but about compassion, understanding, tolerance, and fun. Yes, this was a perfect beginning (reflect on that a bit, we'll come back to it)

The start took forever, and with a light breeze and a rain a bit heaver than a mist, it got cold. My bones chilled a little waiting for our start. good conversations with a number of people helped to pass the time. A few minutes before we were to go off, we met up with the Hoytes. Rick and Dick were treated like GODS at the starting line, masses pushing to shake dicks hand. Corey ran right up to Rick and thanked him for his courage and introduced him to Cady explaining that we were there because of them. I've never seen someone so dialed into the start of a race before. Looking into his eyes, it was obvious he was mentally checked in and ready to run, not giving Corey much thought. It was AWESOME and made me tune out everything around me for a brief second (except for the girl in yellow. It was like she was made from a mold or something. I mean, C'mon! Who looks like that!) A quick snapshot before we left and we were off:

(Don't worry Sul, I know you said no hats. I took it off when we started. And yes, I have just 1 compression sock on. I didn't realize the pack had 2 in it until I found the other one in the bottom of my bag after the race. I did think it odd at the time...)

Before going any further, please take note of who I am running with. Corey has completed a half marathon without stopping to walk, and Steve is in the military. I look like I ate the other guide. Please also keep this in mind as we will revisit.

The first mile was very frustrating, running out from the start battling all those idiots we saw in traffic 6 miles ago. There were a few people I came milliseconds away from body checking into oncoming traffic because they thought they had the right of way, oblivious to the giant GUIDE sign on my 240 lb frame. Lady, its friggin ORANGE and is Italian for "get the hell out of my way stupid"! We made great time on the first mile, posting a 9:32 pace. I felt good until the the hills. Miles 2 and 3 are like a roller coaster ride. Up the hill, down the hill, up the hill down the hill. I'm getting motion sickness just thinking about it again. This is where I met my demise. My shins screamed for surrender about this time. more importantly, my calf was taking a beating (the one in the sock). I knew I was in trouble and needed to run then walk for a longer period than I wanted to. Corey and Steve were great though, telling each crowd I was behind them and that I needed a few cheers to keep me going. Over each rise, I'd catch a quick glimpse of them before disappearing around a bend or over the next hill, and then I'd hear a "come on Chris, Cady isn't even winded yet!" coming from each little group of spectators I'd pass. It got me through the 3rd and onto the 4 mile and I was grateful. At that time the sun had also begun to pound through the clouds and turned a cool humid day into an outdoor sauna and I quickly lost energy with each step. 

My family has friends with a home on the route, 4.3 miles into the race. I made it that far before succumbing to fatigue and exhaustion. This picture was no joke, this was me at their house:

I couldn't breathe or move. I was spent. I took 5 minutes, felt defeated and realized what I set out to do. I wasn't here for me, it wasn't my race. It was Cady's. I was simply there to be a part of it, start to finish

(See the maniacal smile on Steve's face! The military does that to you!!!)

Knowing I wasn't going to make it on foot, but determined to see Cady at the finish line, I kinda stole the homeowner's bicycle. I jumped back into the race on the bike, maybe a bit illegally, right behind a group of "elite runners" (PC for Kenyans). I pedaled my ass off, barely keeping up with them for 3 miles before veering off a side street, cutting out the last two hills and direct lining it to the finish. The whole time I was with that group, I was in amazement at how fast they ran, never looking fatigued, never breaking stride.

I just missed them crossing, but saw an elated and exhausted little girl just moments after and felt accomplished to be a part of that moment.




Back to the beginning: I didn't finish this race, not because I didn't try, not because I didn't train. I didn't finish because it wasn't my time yet. I will finish, this was simply the beginning. In 21 workouts, most averaging less than an hour in length, (so 21 hours of time I never knew I had) I prepared myself and ran 4.3 miles. In the 21 hours of time I found, I lost 11 pounds and have re-invigorated a passion for sport I merely mimicked in past years. This is the beginning and I am proud. There will be no head hanging here. Its already on to the next workout and next race, a steeple chase in October/November in which we will have to find a way to carry Cady over obstacles AND run with her on the beach. I can't wait.

BOOM
This is the beginning, not the end.