Red, White, and Blew……
Actually no. No what? No puke. No pee. Well, then you must not have put it all out there, um-hum, I beg to differ.
Happy 4th of July!
It used to be 4 on the Fourth, but now I am up to racing a 15K in Santa Barbara’s oldest road race the annual Semana Nautica 15K road race. Cool clouds makes for a perfect morning and now that the course is USATF certified a few track clubs and outsiders slid into town to run with us Barbarians.
Classic Ricky: “Stick to me.”
Classic new-Me: “Not unless you have a fire hose.”
Travis: “What will you do?”
Me: “6:10’s.”
Gun. Two mile split: 12:21. I started a bit fast, but Rusty put in the warning and I listened! Not a 5K, not a 5K, got to go 10-more-K than a 5K. Yep, yep, OK. I could not even see the pack of Todd, Ricky, Connor, Fred, and others. Ed ran past me before the 2 mile and I tried to hold him and then I quickly realized Ed might know something about distance. Go Ed! I believe it was Rick Jones who snuck up too and I followed him as he ran very even. I counted the miles off in my head. Then I decided to break it up into 10K and then 5K. Then I just tried to you know…not think about it, but think about in a way that made it even. Following me? No? Good. Ah-ha, sneaky. No one else was following me either. Leif, Eric, Mike? Where did you go?
Here’s my off-note on this morning’s very fun race: boys, men, guys. Um, wha? OK, everytime a girl sneaks up on you to pass you get very upset about it and pick it up for a few meters before you realize the inevitable, you’ll be chicked. I think this hurts more than if you just let the girlfriend fly by. I won’t lie, I love it. At mile 5 a young guy in black got a little huffy about me shouldering him on the climb. He picked up his gait, but well, eventually he got to watch my backside. Saucy? Oh come on, just having fun! I mean I wore blue, painted my nails blue, I got spirit..yes yes I do!
5K to go. I see another guy dropping off the pack I am following. “Get ‘em, get ‘em, get ‘em,” I repeat over and over. No, I am not autistic! I just didn’t want to forget what I was doing, get ‘em! Closer, closer, getting closer! On the last mile I am on his heels. George pulls up on a bike to my side and it motivates me. I pass. An audible “argh” from the gentleman and he passes back. A fight? To the finish? Oh-ye-ah.
At 500 meters we can see the finish line decked in orange cones and a big yellow clicking clock. Chalk draws huge white arrows pointing “THIS WAY RUNNING PEEPS”. Fans (sure, I’ll call you family members that for today) yell and cheer (including my munchkins in helmets). Crossing gaurds point the general direction to Mecca, ie finish line. Two short turns left and my man turns right when we are supposed to turn left, LEFT everything is over there on the left! Wrong turn and I got an easy win over him.
Hmmmmm, kind of makes you wonder. What would you do to not get chicked at the finish line? Would you “accidentally” turn the wrong way? Wouldya-wouldya-wouldya?
I guess I’ll never know.
Awesome event held by the SBAA and I had a great time, no I think I did, literally 57:34.
Well… I do recall one race where I decided it was impolite to try to pass a woman right at the end, and deliberately slowed. But only once.
georgeruns said this on July 7, 2009 at 2:34 am |