I signed up for this race primarily as a means to keep myself training during the summer. If I don't have a race looming over me, I will stop running. It's that simple.
Week before the race: shoe catastrophy.
Long story, but basically I had one pair of pink Newton shoes that were a little snug and I had a pair of yellow Newtons with 500+ miles (yes, I finished out the 500 miles). I had a pair of Sauconys that seemed fast but were completely untested. I also had a pair floating in the mail (thank you, Road Runner Sports, for sending me the men's version of my favorite yellow shoes and then taking forever to correct it- oh, except wait, it wasn't corrected- I got a duplicate pair of the tight pink shoes that I now need to send back... and there was the long story. D'Oh).
All of that was just a set up to explain why I ran two miles in the week before the race. Yep, TWO. My PF was flaring up and all of my shoes freaked me out in their own special ways. I took the extra time to print out pace charts. As the week grew longer, I started tossing those charts- 1:46? Ha! 1:47? Not likely. Finally, I decided I'd just wing it with my Garmin- if I could hit steady 8:30ish miles, I'd be happy.
Day of the race:
I was on the road by 4:00 a.m. I think it's actually easier to drive at that hour than try to pack all of my running stuff and all of the kids' stuff and get ready in a hotel... Of course, after you've run Disney, hitting the road in pitch black darkness still feels like sleeping in!
Yeah, forgot two important things: there's no traffic on the back roads in South Georgia at 4:00 a.m. and the Marines were in charge of the race. I was parked and ready at 5:30 a.m. and packet pickup took about 30 seconds. Oh well- gave me time to stress out over the three pairs of shoes I dragged along! Did I mention the race started at 7:00 a.m.? I watched them make some last minute adjustments to the balloons at the start line- not everyone can say that!
I perused some sort of Florida running magazine, decided on my old tested yellow Newtons, popped a gel and 2 endurolytes, and just people-watched from my car. Finally I made my way to the port-a-potty lines. While in the line, I chatted with a father and daughter running together (he'd done 3 Goofys, this was her first half). He warned me about the "corkscrew"- I wasn't really clear on what it was, but it involved a bridge and a horrible descent around mile 11... Oh good.
We lined up. There were no corrals or even signs. That didn't make me very happy. The Marines band played the National Anthem- really good.
And the start:
Ugh. Too crowded. Lots of weaving. I'm good with walkers even with their Camelbacks- what do I know, they may be testing their equipment for an Ultra- but must they get right in front of me??
Mile 1- 8:49
And there's the first bridge. It wasn't too bad...
Mile 2- 8:17
Mile 3- 8:51
Somewhere in here was the second bridge. It was really bad.
Mile 4- 8:18
I was delusional. I actually thought I could recover from the bridges and get back to an 8:07 pace.
Mile 5- 8:30
Lucky break: found an older hard-core looking guy in a bright green shirt. Decided he would be my pacer.
Mile 6- 8:25
Kept following the old guy. I liked the auto-pilot. Somewhere around here I actually noticed some of the cool stuff we were passing- trendy restaurant/shopping area, neighborhoods...
Mile 7- 8:33
I was feeling pretty good, although every now and then just out of nowhere I'd get hit by a massive urge to start walking. I usually gave myself a mental slap and changed my music...
Mile 8- 9:04
Dude, the old guy was so slick- I didn't even know he had a gel until I saw him toss it. I got mine out of my pocket (not easy carrying my iPhone and water bottle too). It wouldn't tear. Damn. I stopped running and finally tore it- I ate maybe half. In all my fumbling, I lost my old guy pacer.
Mile 9- 8:23
I could see the bright green shirt on the horizon, but I couldn't catch the old guy. I threw out my water bottle.
Mile 10- 8:51
I was still sad about losing my pacer, but I distracted myself wondering just exactly what the "corkscrew" was and how close we were...
Mile 11- 8:47
We were on sidewalks along the river now. It was nice because of the view, but it was kind of tight and my 500 mile Newtons weren't so cushy on the concrete.
Mile 12- 9:31
And around here, I learned what the "corkscrew" was. First, there was a pedestrian bridge- you went up about three squares of sidewalk, then leveled out about two, then repeated. And again... I made it to the top without walking, but then had a weird sort of out of body, knees buckling sensation. It was disturbing, but I was pretty sure no one around me was in good enough shape to rescue me, so I pressed on... to the corkscrew. It was a square ramp thing that just went down and down and down... I guess it was designed to avoid stairs, which I would have appreciated had I been pushing a stroller, but the sharp turns were really painful. I finally made it down. The one part of the corkscrew that I did like?? I saw a little bright green shirt way down below me. It was my old guy pacer! I couldn't catch him, but he hadn't gained a bunch of time on me since my unfortunate gel incident...
Mile 13- 8:57
We were in the Jacksonville Landing area now- lots of random people staring at us. I was desperately looking for the stadium... People who still had a little kick started passing me. Bastards.
Oh look, a photographer. At mile 13. After three bridges. Lovely.
.1- 1:02
And the finish. 1:54:26.
We ran under some sort of artillery Marine tank things. Pretty cool. A Marine put my medal around my neck- it's actually a nice substantial medal. For the price, I didn't expect much. (Now that I think about it, the shirt was really nice too. This race was quite the deal for your money!)
Another Marine handed me a pint glass. It's all trendy now to grab a beer at the finish- Budweiser was a sponsor. While fun in theory, I passed on the Budweiser before 9:00 a.m. I did however score a Moe's breakfast burrito. Normally I would scorn a breakfast burrito (not because I'm so pious, but because the thought of eggs in a burrito isn't appealing). I ate this one in the car (that I found after the traditional wrong turn in the parking lot). Best part of the race.
Ah, burrito...Donned the sweet compression socks, pulled over to change my wet shirt, and made it home by 11:00 a.m. Not bad!
The best part of the race (besides the breakfast burrito?): I didn't finish and immediately freak out about how I was never running again!
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