
Saturday morning we were up bright and early for the Capital City Classic 10K in Raleigh. It was my first standalone 10K and I may have mentioned I was oddly stressy about it. I had a hard time getting myself out the door - in part because registration for
Team Sakina was online, limited to 30 women, and starting at about the same time as the race! (John sent our registrations in for us. Thanks honey!) I felt discombobulated - did I have my inhaler? Water? Gels? Body glide? Was I missing something?
(There is something unnerving to me about running races because once you're dressed, there's just not that much more to do to be ready! No bike to check, no transitions to plan for, no wetsuit or goggles to keep up with, etc. Weird.)
This 10K takes place in the heart of downtown Raleigh. In spite of the lack of directions on the website (the link didn't link anywhere - fail!), it was easy to find and park (for free in a parking garage that wasn't charging for the day - yay!) Packet pick up was inside the Sheraton and smooooth. Also? While there were a couple of porta-potties outside near the race start, I was all about using the nice hotel facilities. It had been a little breezy and slightly overcast but was clearing up (and heating up, dammit) just as the race started (later than advertised). Oh well. I had expected a much bigger crowd (possibly because the race had billed itself as friendly for beginning runners and walkers.) It looked like there were only about two hundred people. And almost all of them looked fast. Oh well.
For us this race was an extra training run (on top of an extra trail run we'd already thrown in on Thursday night) and we still had a big swim ahead of us that afternoon and a brick on Sunday. My goals were to enjoy the experience, see Raleigh in a new way, and to run the whole thing. Not to leave you in suspense, I accomplished a measley one out of three of my goals. Sadness.
The beginning of the course was interesting - winding past big, downtown churches and into great neighborhoods with jungley sidewalk gardens and huge, wraparound porches on display. The volunteers were fantastic and there were cops at every single intersection holding traffic and pointing the way. That was great. Our first couple of miles were fast (for us) - but they always are in races. The tightness and worry I feel starting out gave way in short order to a smooth pace and good rhythm. At mile 2 I snagged a cup from the water station.
Donna was smart enough to grab two and pour one on her head. It was getting hot! I was wishing I'd gotten more than the dinky little two swallows but knew there'd be at least one more stop along the way. Mile 3 was a bit slower and mile 4 seemed to be entirely in the sun. There was one fantastic view of the city skyline as we ran over a highway overpass. Part of me wished I had my camera with me and part of me didn't give a flying ratfuck. That's a bad sign.
The heat was getting to me. I felt melty inside and my skin felt weird. I had to slow to a walk a couple of times to try to bring my heart rate down and feel better. I didn't feel better. I was looking forward to the water stop which we guessed would be at the 4 mile mark. It was! But when we got there - no water. WTF?! It was in the upper 80's or low 90's in a not-crowded race billed as beginner friendly - and they didn't bring out more than
one cooler of water?? (Seriously - my son's lacrosse team of 20 boys always has three or four coolers of water. This race had one.) My bad attitude about the lack of water may have had something to do with me making a total newbie mistake to compound the issue. I took my gel when I saw the water station and all the cups. Calories and water get me through hot runs. Calories without water? NOT good. Feeling as bad as I already did from the heat, having ingested a gel with no water to chase it much less to rehydrate me, and knowing I was stuck for the rest of the race - sucked. Totally sucked. Note to self: no gel until the water is in hand!!!
I tried to re-set. I focused on smiling at the volunteers and thanking them. I sent D on ahead because even though it was hard for her, she was still running. I resigned myself to walking the rest of the way. I had chills on my skin but my insides were still boiling. My brain was hazy. I was mad at myself for not having my own water with me - though almost no one else in the race did either. I was disappointed and felt like a loser for not even being able to keep up a slow jog. But I was just too hot. And I was not about to get sick or fall and hurt myself by pushing hard in a race that essentially didn't matter! Still...loserdom. I finished in a terrible 1:19:something or other. I didn't care. It was minutes slower than my PacGrove Oly Tri 10K. I was not, however, DFL. There were at least 4 people behind me. The announcer called them the last finishers but later (like 5 minutes or more?) the announcer was talking about even more finishers coming in. I was too busy sucking down water and trying to adjust my attitude.
There were LOTS of people complaining about how challenging the course was and how hot it was. I did
not add my voice. I'll admit though, it did make me feel a bit better when a local running star, Victor (who won the 10 miler last weekend) told me he'd gotten cramps and quit at mile 5. He said, "Some races are like that."**
I know this is long already so I'll say one last cranky thing. Since it's only the second year for this race, I was all set to cut the race directors slack (except for the water station fail). I thought "resourceful" instead of "tacky" when I noticed that they were using race numbers/timing chip holders with last year's date on them. I forgave the late start and lack of working links for important things like directions, parking and race photos. But I just saw that the "overall" race results end inexplicably at least 15 minutes before the last finishers crossed the line. I'm not in the results. Donna, who finished 5+ minutes ahead of me, isn't even in the results. Beginner and walker-friendly my ass!!
Saturday continued to be odd and disconcerting. It took me quite a few hours to feel like my body temperature was stable enough to attempt the swim workout. Then about three quarters of the way through our swim (just before my final descending 50's) it started getting really dark. I was still processing the fact that we must be swimming waaaaay slower than I thought for it to be getting dark already when the lifeguard pulled everyone out of the pool. Lightning flashed, thunder thundered, and the power flickered. Sweet. We did vindicate ourselves on Sunday, though. A Mother's Day Brick: we biked for 58 minutes (avg pace 13.3) and then
ran for six miles - including warm up, cool down, and fartleks in the middle for speed work!! (mutter, mutter, stupid 10k, take that, mutter, no water mo-fos, muter, mutter)
And (last thing - I SWEAR!) we went to see Star Trek. It was fan-flippin-tastic! I loved every minute of it. It's a total must-see.
TODAY I LOVE: science fiction everything and fresh pineapple!
**I had the hardest time not responding to Victor with , "
Even in Australia."