Unlike the Mets, I finished strong

I’m not a swift runner. In fact, the best compliment I’ve heard is “You’re not as slow as you look,” and that was after an inside-the-park home run in co-ed softball.

But as you know, I hit the treadmill each night and participate in the occasional 5K race.
My goal time of 30 minutes has been out of reach for years. I realize that this is not a fast time, coming in at around 10 miles an hour. But it’s a target.

I’ve found some Web sites that post results, and I’ve found a high of 38.43 minutes in 2005, and I hit a best time of 31.21 minutes this past May.

So I was looking forward to this year’s Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure, a 5K fund-raiser for breast cancer research. I’ve been keeping up with my running and I’ve lost weight.

The downside is that this is an emotional race with many, many people who are not serious runners, or even quasi-semi-serious runners, like me. Let’s just say there are a lot of strollers and dogs.

Which is not a bad thing. Many of these people are running in memory of a person they’ve lost, or supporting someone battling the disease, which is the point of the event.

Lining up Saturday morning, I saw that organizers separated the community walkers from the 5K racers, which is a good thing, since it means fewer people clogging the streets.

Then I learned that the race results would be based on “gun time” instead of “chip time,” which is a bad thing. Gun time is the period between when the race starts and when the runner crosses the line.

But all racers had a little computer chip attached to their sneakers, and chip time is the period between when the individual runner crosses the start line and then crosses the finish line. This give you a better time if there is a big crowd at the start.

But I was pumped. When the gun fired, I hit the start button on the iPod and took off. Serious runners scoff, but the music is important to me. It helps me keep a pace and provides some distraction and inspiration. Here’s the new race playlist I made for the Komen:

1) “Pressing On,” Relient K
2) “Never Going Back to OK,” The Afters
3) “Time Has Come,” MercyMe
4) “God Will Life Up Your Head,” Jars of Clay
5) “Hold You High,” By the Tree
6) “Life is Good,” Stellar Kart
7) “Awakening,” Switchfoot
8) “Something Beautiful,” Newsboys
9) “Must Have Done Something Right” Relient K

Good stuff. So I hit the button and heard only crackling – an unexpected headphone malfunction. The cat is the main suspect right now. As I ran I tinkered with the wires, and was able to get some sound in some of the speakers some of the time. So I was already out of my comfort zone as I headed up the big hill at the start of the race.

This event places volunteers at each mile marker reading out times as you pass.
I was surprised to hear the person yell out “8:40” as I ran past. That’s way faster than my usual pace.

I hit the second mile, and heard “18:10” and thought that was my typical pace between miles and showed I was slowing down. And I was feeling it, too. My calves were barking, and other runners seemed to be passing me. And the music was crackling instead of providing inspiration.
Heading through Grandville High in the final mile, I decided 30 minutes was probably lost, but I’d give it my all.

With the finish line in the distance, “Something Beautiful” came crackling and I thought about its message. It was a beautiful day, and people all around were wearing the pink shirts signifying they are breast cancer survivors. The race goal was nice, but the true meaning of the day was to raise money in hopes of creating more people in pink shirts in the future.

Then I was close enough to the clock to make out the digits – and the first two were “28.” The goal was in sight! In the May race, I was able to sprint out the final several hundred feet, weaving through traffic like a running back.

I tried to do the same here, but there was very little in the tank. I was able to pick it up a little, but not much. I crossed the line at 29:10. That’s gun time, so I figure chip time would have shaved at least 10 seconds off – I was able to beat the elusive goal, and beat my previous best by more than 2 minutes.

That sure made the Panera Bread pink ribbon bagels at the end of the race all the more tasty.
I wore my low-profile Mets cap during the race, trying to bring some good karma to the team. Johan Santana threw his gem later in the day. Everything all was good in the world for at least one more day.

Like the 1985 Mets, a step closer

I’m not an especially fast runner.

It’s a bad sign when the people at the race registration table hand me a number to pin to the front of my shirt and a reflective red triangle to pin to the back.

It's also not encouraging when they say, “Remember race etiquette. Yield to things that are faster, like roadkill.”

Nevertheless, I boldly signed up to participate in the 31st River Bank Run, a huge festival of races here in Grand Rapids.

I’ve participated in small, charity races over the years. But the River Bank Run attracted a record 15,940 people, including a handful of athletes headed to Beijing this summer. Of course, the famous folks are competing in the 25K event, and I entered in the 5K, which is just over 3 miles.

I have two racing goals this year: To participate in three events, and to break 30 minutes.

My previous times have been between 38 and 35 minutes, so it’s a pretty bold goal. But I’ve been running six miles a night, five nights a week on the treadmill, and it takes about 65 minutes. So you think 3 miles and change would be a sprint.

But each night it seems like the first three miles are the hardest, and once I hit that mark, I feel like I could go forever. My pattern in past races has been to go all out for the first two thirds then slip into a race-walk pattern for a while, then pick it up at the end. My goal heading into this race was to keep running the whole time.

I also heard that it helps to eat a pasta dinner the night before. So I did – a little too much, as evidenced by the 4 a.m. hurling incident.

But I got up a couple hours later and headed to downtown Grand Rapids with thousands of others. The people in the 25K race started first, then the people in the 10K, and the wheelchair racers.

I was standing with about 5,000 others ready for the 5K, looked over and saw Michigan’s secretary of state. She is from the area, and we’ve spoken over the years. We had a nice conversation. A lot of times VIPs call attention themselves at an event like this. But Secretary Land was just huddled with the regular folks. The governor travels with a police escort, but the secretary of state can stand in a crowd of 5,000 people in her running shorts, and no one gives her a hard time. I thought that was pretty cool.

Finally, I could hear the race start … and we just stood there. There were so many people packed so tightly that there was nowhere to move. It eased up for a little bit, then stopped again. “This is not going to help my time,” I thought. Note to self: Next race, stand closer to the starting line.

After starting to move, I switched on the iPod and focused on my strategy. I’d look for someone running ahead of me, and think “I’m not going to let that person beat me.” And when I’d pass them I’d look for someone else. And it seemed like I was passing as many people as were passing me, so I was feeling pretty good.

The iPod is essential. I made a playlist of fast-paced God rock songs. But there are a couple things to keep in mind when racing with tunes. First, it’s OK to sing along as long as it’s not loud – humming level seems about right.

Then, air-guitar is right out. But you can sneak in a little air-drumming if it looks like you’re just pumping your arms as you run.

Having never run this race before I was not sure where the course would twist and turn. And there were no mile markers that I could see, so I was never really sure how far along I was. There was one big hill that had my calves barking, and it seemed like the point where I would usually drop into race-walk mode. But I kept pushing it, hoping to make it a little longer.

And it was pretty exciting. My other big race, the Komen Race for the Cure, starts and ends in a mall parking lot, and the scenery doesn't improve too much. The course runs through downtown Grand Rapids, starting down the block from my newspaper, and passing all the landmarks -- and a president.

Then I turned a corner on Monroe Center, and there, down the street, was the big banner reading “Finish.”

Yes! I hadn’t dropped into a walk, and still had energy, so I tried to sprint all-out for the last three blocks. But there were so many people, and all of them slowing down, that I had to zig-zag my way along. I felt like Barry Sanders weaving through the slow-pokes.

Crossing the line, I saw a time of 34 minutes, 19 seconds. That's about a minute better than my best time, but not even close to my goal. All the congestion at the start no doubt robbed me of precious time, but I didn’t know how much.

But I remembered someone talking about “chip time.” Runners attach a small piece of black plastic with a computer chip that activates a timer when you cross the finish line. Turns out they also keep track of time from when you cross the starting line through when you cross at the end – so you don’t get penalized for being stuck back in the throng. That would be posted later in the day on the race Web site.

The end of the race is pretty cool because there was someone from Panera Bread handing me a bagel, which pretty much happens every day. But this time they didn’t charge me. Plus there was free granola bars and bananas. I also tried free Red Bull. Yuck.

I was pretty giddy had having run all the way through, and was happy that the posted time was a minute better than my best.

Checking out the Web site later, I found that the chip time was 31 minutes, 21 seconds – about four minutes faster than my best-ever time. And with a 10:07 minute pace, way ahead of my previous best pace, 11:21 from the Thanksgiving Run this past November.

So it’s kind of like that 1985 season for the Mets – falling short of the goal but making substantial progress.

And I might soon be able to shed the reflective red triangle.