Or, you must be from Oak-ah-noh-mow-wock.
Ran an (almost!) 10K in Tucson This Morning.
Ya know, I think that the Half Marathon has been the New 10K for a few years now. (kinda like 50 is the new 30??) Back in my early days of running (from about 1988 – 1994) 10K’s were as plentiful as fleas on a dog, you could run one, or even two! almost every weekend. Now, they seem scarcer than Hens Teeth, replaced, seemingly, by Half Marathons, which as you know you can actually cram four into fourteen days in some months in Southeastern Wisconsin. Those who are real runners can do it anyway.
But I digress. Anyway, 5K’s are one thing, 10K’s however I really don’t have a “Pace” for as who does them very much?
And even though there is always seemingly a 5K option, who would run short when they could run long?
(oh yeah, Greg Hermann would. Again, I digress. Must be the altitude here, can’t stay on topic for long)
This was the second year I’ve done this race and it’s a strange ‘un. It’s put on by a local Bicycling Emporium (Perimeter Bicycling) and it’s the El Tour Race – the El Tour de Tucson is a National Bike Race held in Tucson in November where thousands of world famous stretch-pant-bright-jersey-fancy-space-age-helmet-wearing intense monsters come to pedal their asses off. So, why is there a running race? Dunno…however there are not-so-subtle clues that tell you these people aren’t necessarily runners. And, they may not be Bike-Race savvy either, based upon some of the logistics or lack thereof.
Still, I never ever turn down a race versus just doing a training run – in spite of the fact that I’ve got three 26.2 Mile Dragon-Slaying events breathing fire down my neck – literally. First one – Milwaukee – is two weeks from tomorrow and the MOUNT LEMMON uphill race is a mere month away. So, these lesser races are intended to make up for my usual lack of actual marathon training, hoping that if I continue to simulate combat conditions, at least piecemeal, I’ll continue to make it across the finish lines of these “longer” efforts.
Again, digressing!
So, I picked up my packet Friday, they gave us a black reusable shopping bag – always good for the car trunk! lots of papers crammed into it and one cool thing was that the T-shirt was optional – you could pay extra and get one or just pay less and not. I went for Not and as it turned out it was a nice yellow shirt, cotton, however I’ve got so many damn race shirts the short pang of lust I felt for it disseminated quickly when I went home and opened my drawer and saw the Tucson collection – mostly unloved and unworn.
5K people had yellow bibs, 10K people had blue – my number? 12. And, I signed up not long ago, so I’m thinking…small race!
It wasn’t though. It was as most Tucson races an early start – 6:30 am, so I was out the door at 5:35 sharp. This year it was held at St.Gregory’s prep school instead of up in Marana as in years past. Last year it was almost an hour drive from the Tucson abode, this morning it was a mere 11 minutes – 22nd street to Craycroft, left, four miles and left into the parking lot. And, good thing I left kinda early, by the time I inched my way into the parking area it was quite crowded.
A mixed crowd – and since it wasn’t a SAR-sponsored event, I didn’t see many of the local running illuminati. However there were a few fast looking people there that I recognized, one, a local Jack Hoffman-type was there (whose name I don’t know) and I was glad, meaning my chances of having to lead the pack had just diminished. Later they said there were 289 runners and walkers with a LOT of race day sign ups.
There was the same woman Emcee from last year, a pony-tailed cheerleader-type of indeterminate age who was in constant peppy voice over a monster PA system for the entire event. “We’ve got people here from all over Arizona” she was warbling as I walked up. “We even have people from Iowa, and look! Two people from Wisconsin (didn’t hear name) from ManahTOEWHACK, and Peter Klein from Oak-Ah-Noe-Moe-Wock, Wisconsin. Welcome all you people!!” (She would go on, throughout the morning to continue to butcher my current home town, repeating this cant 3-4 times, once again before the race, once when I crossed the finish line and then later as she seemingly couldn’t help herself) Guess I’m famous in Tucson from being from OakAhNoeMoeWock! And, seems Wisconsin people are smarter – THEY can pronounce “Tucson”
The same peppy voice started chivvying us to start lining up at about 6:10 am. Even while thinking (WTF??) I took my place close to the front seeing a plethora of strollers, small children, leashed dogs, and really slow looking people. Sometimes as you know, in these non-running savvy races, the walkers all cluster up front, the better to act as boulders in the stream blocking the movers like me, so I was intent on avoiding having to run everyone over (like Gregg Herman does) This had the unfortunate result of placing me smack in the front of the monster PA colums, thus treating me to a full blast treatment of the ensuing babble. Anyway, there was non-stop patter from the hostess, then some other old guy took the mike and gassed on and on about how much money they’d raised (the race is, in fact a benefit for “Bens Bells” (www.bensbells.org ) a GREAT local organization promoting “Kindness”) He then put some other old codger on who after some other non-memorable yammering announced that since he ran this race last year, he’d had his prostate and a half a kidney removed so he wasn’t sure he’d set a PR – or even finish the race – that day. (The crowd actually applauded for this – not sure if they were happy for his loss of major organs, or the fact that the competition was diminished?), and in the meantime, the sun was rising murderously in the east – and right in our faces. This is, in fact, the desert, so the heat was on the way, and I could feel and share the collective crowd impatience thinking “Get on with the race already!!” After an acapella Star Spangled Banner rendition from one of the actual runners, who handed the mike back and took her place in the crowd, we did a count down and promptly at 6:30 am we were off.
The first quarter mile was a loop around the St. Gregory sports field, a soaking wet (the sprinklers had maybe just been on?), and incredibly spongy surface. It was, literally, like running on a squishy saturated O-Cello sponge. “Boing! Boing!” I thought to myself as I bounded up and down feeling my shoes fill with water. There were some pre-ten year old boys who had bolted out with the lead crowd and then slammed to a complete stop in front of me, necessitating a spectactular hurdle on my part to avoid adding them to some unhappy youth statistic. In spite of all that, we soon emptied out onto the Rillito (pronounced ReYee toe) river pathway and headed west.
This was a big circular loop course out on the south side of the Rillito river bike trail (the Rillito River is actually a completely dry wash filed with sand, scrub, and abandoned shopping carts) a crossover on the Dodge Avenue road bridge and then back up the north side of the bike trail, with a loop around on the Craycroft road bridge then back to the finish. It was promised during the non-stop blather at the start line that there were plenty of aid stations and portopotties on the course, plus mile makers in both Miles and Kilometers.
Not so much on any of this as it turned out.
The first half of the course rolled up and down, and I did in fact see the first three Kilometer markers. Never did, in fact see many past that and never saw ANY mile markers. We were heading west, away from the rising sun and at the start I felt okay. GPS would later show I kept an absolutely consistent 7:32 pace for the first three miles. Again, what’s a 10K Pace? Faster than a Half Marathon, not as fast as a 5K? It’s hard to gauge, so I just kept it as steady as I could.
I did see the first “aid station” It was a picnic bench, complete with a single, smirking 10-year old boy sitting firmly on his ass presiding over the cups of water – about 30 feet off the bike path. Coupled with the start line, the spongy field crossing, and the lack of mile markers, already I’m aware that these people aren’t really thinking of real runners – what real runner would divert WAY off the trail (and it wasn’t an easy on and off, you’d have to back track the same said 30 feet once you grabbed your own cup due to a pedestrian railing). I blasted on through thinking…well, I can usually last six miles without a drink.
After the first mile and a half, the serious 5K runners peeled off and I’m all alone, mostly – one woman runner up in front (whom I reeled in by mile 2.5) and then a guy in a green shirt about 300 yards in front of me that I never did reel in. The path wound and jogged, and there were several pedestrian entry points with non-race walkers plodding in, so it was somewhat confusing. Minimal course marshalling and as mentioned – never saw any mile markers.
Was hoping not to Digress.
I passed the second aid station before Mile 3, right before the bridge crossing. It was apparently a self-serve one, “rustic” if you will – crates of gallon bottles of water stacked beside another picnic table (this one about 20 feet off the trail) and no cups, no staff, no nothing. Again, I blasted on through, thinking “Great!”
A quick left and a quick right and a tight hairpin turn and I’m on the Dodge Avenue bridge, over the top and down the other side where some course marshals direct me across a stretch of sandy ditch and back onto the bike trail. Now I’m running directly into the very intense rising sun, GPS reads mile 3.4 and I actually feel my energy start to drain away through the soles of my (now dry) Adidas Responses. The sun and lack of water was like a literal weight. Still, I persevere, and later GPS will show that I clocked a pair of 7.50’s, and then a 7.41 so it wasn’t too terribly bad. Still, the intense sun, the path, and now it’s slightly uphill slowed me down.
Plus, soon I started catching up to the 5K walkers and “joggers” firmly clogging the river path like arterial placque. I weaved in and out of them, strollers, dogs, kids, oncoming bicycles and all following the guy in the green shirt who was doing the same thing.
There was actually a volunteer passing out cups of water around mile 4.5, so I could unglue my tongue from the roof of my mouth, and then continue the slog. It helped.
A monster switchback uphill to the Craycroft bridge, then a long narrow pedestrian walkway passing over the Rillito non-river, with waist high concrete on each side, another hairpin turn straight down, through a small gap in a high chain link fence, and back to the river path and now I can hear the finish line PA system clearly. A hairpin turn into St. Gregory’s and then another bound across the spongy grass and suddenly there is the finish line and “Here’s number 12, Peter Klein from OakAhNoeMoeWock, Wisconsin!!! Great job Peter!!! Thanks for coming all this way!!!” Finish clock says 46:29, so does my GPS and the course distance…..6.06 miles, of course. This means it was probably and actually a 6 mile 10K as my GPS usually measures “long” so…………can’t really say I ran a 10K today.
Average time worked out to a dismal-for-the-distance 7:39 minute miles, oh well. I think I actually did better in Cudahy for 10 and I was almost as fast at the Lake Country Half averaging a 7:45 for 13.1. Better water stops on both though, and Gatorade too……
I collected the “finishers medal” a leather thong with a ceramic ornament tied to it plus a sweet sounding brass bell. Already a few of the runners were wearing theirs and you could hear a chorus of “ting ting ting” for the rest of the morning. This was the Bens Bells Piece and it’s an interesting piece of swag – makes a great outdoor windchime actually! Picture attached….
Again, in the theme of “Not a Runners Race” there were no age group awards. The top 3 Male and Females (for the 10K and 5K) got these funky-ass artistic made-out-of-metal-wire-stapled-to-a-wooden-plank stylized bicycle trophies. Quite the dust catcher! However, the only other awards were for “Most Funds Raised”, “Last across the finish line”, youngest and oldest runner. Since I qualified for none of this, I didn’t get any further bling – just as well, what would I do with something like that?
I was, however 13th across the finish line in the 10K (there were 112 10K people), and, initially FIRST in my age group which showed me as age 98 in the M80-98 age group. Not bad for an old guy, huh? Again….not good information, not paying attention to the runners info. As it turns out, (after I got this corrected) I would have been third in the 50-54 – the 10K race was actually won by that previously mentioned Jack Hoffman-like guy who is age 52 and nailed it in 40:15 or so. So, I would have had yet another “show” regardless of my dismal pace. However today that didn’t matter.
Not many finish line libations, cups of water, sliced oranges, melon, quarter bagels and little cups of peanut butter. NO BEER, dammit!!! I hung around for the awards ceremony anyay, thinking, pehaps that they’d have a special award for the most difficult to pronounce town (OakAhNoeMoeWock) however no joy. So, back to the Tucson abode, all before 9:00 am. Still waiting for the beer….
Miss you Wisconsin people! No mile markers, no water, no finish line beer, can’t pronounce Oconomowoc, no AG awards, what’s wrong with these Tucson Biker people??
See you all in a few weeks!