All I wanted was RnR & got this 10K
Over the weekend I participated in the Rock n Roll New York 10k in Prospect Park in Brooklyn, the “Coolest city in the Country”. Now, my only previous experience with Rock n Roll races was the San Diego Marathon a couple of years ago as part of a relay team and that was kind of a nightmare, so I was interested to see how things went in my own back yard. This race was thrown into my schedule just to keep me racing and running under competitive conditions and because we couldn’t find a half-marathon reasonably close that fit my coaching and training schedule. Heading into it, my training with the White She-Devil was progressing quite nicely, the torture was consistent insane and, as I’ve mentioned before, I just did what I was told, but did have a little bit of a hitch in my giddy up thanks to some tightness in my right leg – a little in the hamstring and a little in the calf. Regardless, I went into Prospect Park with the intention of racing the race and seeing where I was physically.
To be honest, for the 36-hours prior to the race I really had no desire to go and race at all. I just wasn’t feeling it at all. It all started with packet pick-up on Friday night. I got there with my info in hand and had to stand in this crazy, long line at Super Runners Shop in midtown waiting to NOT get my bag or shirt, because they ran out, being squawked at by a couple of intense and totally flaky women whipping about. The only upside was that I could get my bib and timing tag so I wouldn’t have to deal with that crap in the morning. That whole experience was just unnerving and irritating in its inefficiency and psychosis, which left me wanting to do anything else but race in the morning. Sleeping, eating, and watching the EPL (English Premier League for those keeping score) was sounding so much more exciting and desirable than a 5 am wake-up call, a long ass Q train ride to the park, and a chilly morning’s gallop in short shorts.
Well, the insane air raid siren alarm goes off, I go through my routine and get my butt in gear and on the train. I spent the ride down, listening to The Haunted (so appropriate heading into the Halloween season), and reviewing the texting conversation between White She-Devil and myself about the pace plan for the race. It went something like this:
SS: Instructions for tomorrow?
WSD: Win
SS: Duh … of course?!
WSD: OK, but in all seriousness … Get a good warm-up, don’t go out too hard, race the 2nd half. Race it for real, it will give us good data.
SS: First mile split?
WSD: How do you feel about 6-6:10 range?
SS: Do I have to answer that? Fine. It shall be done.
Reading it again I couldn’t help but feel bullied into that pace, like Mouth coercing Chunk into the Truffle Shuffle in “The Goonies” … Come ON!!! Do IT! Come on. DO IT!! I changed into my PureFlow on the train and surveyed the mass of runners making the journey with me and was pretty impressed by the sheer quantity of people that paid like $75 for a 10k race and to get a really, really heavy medal!
Now, on my way to the starting area, I have to say, there was one thing that I saw that completely took me by surprise. I mean, seriously, there is nothing in the world that can prepare you for seeing two guys, seemingly boxers by the sweat suits and shadowboxing, running towards you one of which with a shake weight bouncing up and down in his two hands. Oh yah, this was something to behold, I tell you. I stopped walking, watched the two rather large gentlemen cruise by, and then just gawked at his form and technique using both hands on the shake weight while running. RIVETING!!
It took a while to shake that image from my head, but once it cleared and I dropped my bag, etc. I went through my 20-minute warm-up, as prescribed by WSD, and headed for my corral. Temps were pretty much perfect, I felt loose, but still skeptical about the race plan. At the sound of the start I eased into the race and just trying to find a nice rhythm and cadence while getting out of the thick of the pack, that lovely initial swell surging forward like an above ground pool bursting through one of its walls. First mile I just kept in check and found a runner to basically pace off of so I would have a fair measuring stick and, amazingly enough, basically did that mile to spec, 6:09. From there is just worked it rhythmically trying to stay comfortable and whenever my calf started getting pissy with me I backed it down a bit. First loop of the park was solid, then coming up the “big hill” for the second time my right leg was a little crankier about it, but the second I cleared the hill and the pitch of the road dipped I felt completely fine again and just kept my foot on the gas, which was pretty much a 5:53 pace (WSD wanted me to be sure to point that out).
The last 2-miles were spent chasing down the same two people, a really nice Kiwi (New Zealander for those requiring an explanation) and a dude in a long sleeved black shirt. The three of us basically took turns pushing the group, rotating from lead to back of the pack, all the way until the last 800-meters when I decided that I’d had enough of that. I went from the back of our little pack to the front and just closed the damn race out. After crossing the finish line I immediately turned around and slapped five and shook the hands of the other two and thanked them for keeping me honest for the last couple of miles. When I looked down at my watch and was kind of disappointed, solely due to the fact that I had run a 37:07 PR at the Cow Harbor 10k not long ago and I had just done a 37:09. Oh well, they won’t ALL be PRs and this was NOT my goal race, so I moved on.
I got my bag, then the shirt that they didn’t have for me the night before and went to watch some of my friends finish up and see how they did. Unlike the majority of people at the race, I had no real issue with gear check, I also refused to use the RnR back pack bag that they gave out, because I wanted something much more recognizable and different so I could retrieve it easily. But, once my friends finished up and they went to get their gear, HOLY CRAP was it a complete cluster f*ck!!! Lines for each truck were really long, there was only one person or maybe two staffers on the truck retrieving them and absolutely NO discernible system for their storage. All the bags were just in heaps to be tossed and sorted through, just awful! OY!!! RnR, ya might want to get it together with the organizing and logistics, this is not the first time I’ve experienced this with you guys!
All in all it was a successful race day where I finished better than I have in a New York race ever and actually won my age group for the first time since I did a random 5-miler in MA when I was 15 years old. Final stats were as follows: Finished in 37:09, 25/4305, 20th male, 1st in division.



May 6, 2012 at 6:27 pm
April 13, 2012 at 9:12 pm