Jim here for Team Bad Ass.
Well, the 2010 race season is officially underway. Our first race this year was the Town Crier 10K held in Saugatuck, Michigan.
Saugatuck is about a half-hour drive from Grand Rapids and we still needed to pick up our race-numbers and timing chips, so we decided the night before to leave at 7:30am to be ready to go for the 9am starting gun (which actually turned out to be a bell – get it “Town Crier”?).
The morning began rather crudely. Matt had slept on my couch rather than drive to and from his place after he got out of work. My alarm clock went off at 7:15am and when I went to wake up Matt, he initially refused to get up. I had to steal his teddy bear and threaten to throw it out the window just to get him to move. Matt will do anything for his Mr. Fuzzy. That and peanut butter. He loves peanut butter.
We packed up all our shit and loaded the car. We got into Saugatuck a bit after 8am and we walked around for a bit after parking the car. The town is a “friendly” beach community on Lake Michigan. Principally a summer destination, the middle of town is comprised primarily of chochke vendors, art galleries, and shitty knick-knack stores.
Matt and I each downed an energy gel, Gold-Bonded up (individually, mind you. Just because we were in Saugatuck doesn't mean we went native), taped our nipples (also individually) and made our way to the starting line. The temperature was still chilly, maybe 40-degrees, but the sun was out and it was not too windy.
We took a short warm up jog while I finagled with my heart rate monitor. For some reason the chest strap had shit the bed and was not reading a pulse. Both Matt and myself picked out the person we wanted to beat, then the starting bell sounded and we were off.
Typical of similar bullshit race starts, slow people who shouldn't be in the front of the pack slow everyone down by being an obstacle. Luckily there weren't too many participants for this to be that big of a deal, and within a minute or two we were free of most other runners. And luckily, right about this time my heart rate monitor got its head out of its ass and started working.
We started out with an excellent pace and maintained it very well throughout the race. The race snaked through the downtown streets, past the aforementioned chochke hawkers, before routing us onto a series of residential streets. The route was superbly managed; at every turn there were volunteers pointing the way. There were a few hills, but nothing truly worthy of bitching.
To my surprise, I was able to keep up with Matt. Between you and me (and the rest of the internet) Matt is the better runner, despite his chicken legs, size 9 shoes, and small heart.
We passed a handful of other runners, but to my knowledge we were only passed by a single group of four. And we held those fuckers off for a long while, even up a fairly significant hill. Someone took a picture of us at the top of that hill, and I'd love to have a copy because it would show TBA dominating the field...at least on that particular hill.
At about the 5 mile marker, Matt fell back a bit. I didn't notice it at first because we were on a great, long stretch of a slight, but certainly noticeable, downhill grade. Throughout the race, I was either a few steps ahead of him or he was a few steps ahead of me, but I could generally see where he was by looking for his shadow on the ground. The buddy system is a fine motivator. It definitely kept me going.
But now, without the other co-captain at my side, I had to find some other form of motivation. I decided to catch whoever was in front of me. My heart rate was really high, over 190bpm for much of the last mile. With about a quarter mile to go, I caught the guy. And with about 200 yards to go, I caught the guy in front of him.
From about a hundred feet out, I caught a glimpse of the race clock and switched to a pose method and sprinted to the finish. Eventually clocking a 45:49. Beating my last 10K time by 5:45, and good enough for fourth-place in the age group and 32/143 overall.
I stood there catching my breath for a bit until I spotted Matt in his white TBA shirt turning the corner heading toward the finish line. Matt eventually clocked a 46:54, beating his last 10K time by 3:25. Earning him fifth-place in the age group and 35/143 overall.
We dicked around for a bit (once again, not in the traditional Saugatuck sense), watched the 5K start, and then ate some breakfast at perhaps the only breakfast joint I've ever been to that had a full liquor bar.
The weather was probably 15-20 degrees warmer now, so before heading back to the GRR we drove to the beach where I geared down and ran into Lake Michigan, currently at a balmy forty degrees. It was really stupid, and it took about 10 minutes to get the feeling back in my toes.
TBA's performance in this race was fantastic. Despite a serious lack of sleep, we both bested our previous 10K times. Not bad for our first time out this year.
I'd post pictures but Matt refuses to give them to me and I'm afraid of what I might find if I borrow his camera to upload the pictures. Maybe soon.
Until then, Jim out!
Friday, May 14, 2010
Race Report: Fifth Third Riverbank 25K (with pictures!)
With over 21,000 runners, the Riverbank Run is probably the biggest single-day event held in Grand Rapids and it's high in the running for largest event in West Michigan. Team Bad Ass was well represented in the race: Matt and myself running the 25K, Matt's dad Jim running the 5K option, and TBA supporter Kayla (for those who read the 10 Miler report) running the 10K.
For the week leading up to the race, the weather forecasts kept getting shittier: wind, rain, cold...locusts. At race-time, the temperature was in the upper 30s with some serious wind. The rain held off, despite a few errant drops here and there. But like I said, shitty.Matt at his dad showed up at some ungodly hour, as usual I did not get enough sleep. The 5K ran first so the two of them headed down to the start. I used the time to wake my ass up. After seeing his dad off, Matt headed back the few blocks to my place and we got ready. Gold bond and nipple tape were again the order of the day.
We walked down the street to the race start and got our first taste of the cold weather and wind. Downtown was a zoo. Packed with spectators lining the streets and runners waiting to start.
Because this was the longest race we have ever run and because we had the marathon a week later, we made the conscious decision to hold back a bit and run this one slower. We lined up with the 9:30/mile pace group, but found ourselves in front of the group most of the time.
The starting gun sounded and we were off. Because there were so many people, there was about a 3 minute lag time between the gun sounding and us actually crossing the starting line. After a couple of miles, Matt and I both started experiencing some ankle pain. It was odd, because it happened at the same time, and neither of us had felt it before.
Running slower than your average pace (especially in a race) was difficult. Neither one of us likes to be passed by people, certainly not by fat asses that we would normally be smoking past. I actually live by the Bernard Hinault quote, “As long as I breathe...I attack.” (First cycling reference). So doing so took patience, and I do not have patience.
Every half mile or so Matt would catch me breaking away (Second cycling reference) or I would catch him pulling away, and we'd remind each other of the upcoming marathon and we'd back it down.
The route took us down along the Grand River and out to Grandville. At about the half-way point, or maybe shortly before it, the route turned onto Butterworth Street and headed back to the city over some light, rolling hills. Every couple miles there would be a large group of cowbell-shaking spectators, cheering crowds, and even a smattering of high school cheerleaders. We ran past Millennium Park (Jesus, remember that word?), then down past the John Ball Zoo, before making our final approach back into downtown. Right about the time we made the turn out of John Ball Park Matt felt a muscle cramp up in his inner thigh. We backed our speed down a bit and kind of coasted for awhile. I assume he worked out the cramp because he stopped bitching about it after awhile.
With about a mile and half left to go, the Rocky theme song came on over my headphones and I decided that I was not going to finish this race with anything left in the tank. I made the decision to unleash the hounds. Right after the last water/Gatorade station, I kicked into overdrive and tried to cover as much ground as possible before I collapsed.
The route wound through some downtown streets where the crowds were sometimes 3-4 people deep. “Rainbow in the Dark” by DIO came on the Ipod, and I tried to throw everything I had at beating people to the line. I probably passed about 100 people in the last mile of this race, including one about 15 yards in front of the finish running the last stretch with his 6-year-old daughter. God damn I love doing that..
Matt came across the finish at 2:21:53, averaging 9:09/mile and finishing 307/411 in the age group and 2978/5464 overall.
All told, I liked this race. I'm sure we could have run it faster, but under the circumstances I think holding back was the right decision. The overall goal is distance, not speed. And we ought to act accordingly. Next year we can run it for real.Matt and I were both out of commission after this race. It took my calves a good long time to recover and, now almost a week later, I can still feel some inflammation in my knees. No pain, no gain.
Team Bad Ass is going on the road this weekend for an away game, so check back for the Rockford Marathon race report sometime next week.
Jim out!
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