Done Did It

The day I've been working towards since November has arrived. The annual Groundhog Run held in the underground warehouse complex that is the Hunt Sub Tropolis in KC. A cave is definitely a strange place for a run, but that was what attracted me in the first place. The walls and ceiling are sealed/painted limestone with asphalt ('ASHphalt' for you Canadian readers) underfoot. Fluorescent lighting above. Temperature was 60-70F a comfortable distance away from the door.

(A few minutes before the start of the 5k. Photo by the lovely Ann Rogers.)

The event is limited to 3500 runners, most of them probably signed up for the 5k distance like me, which was one odd shaped lap in a maze of caverns, marked with cones and volunteer stations. The 10k course is an additional lap of the same.

Annie, concerned about being trampled by a thousand runners, scurried out of the crowd a few minutes before the start. The sea of people counted down the last 10 seconds before 9:00 AM and the first runners crossed the starting line, automatically registering with the timing computer via the RF ID chips tied into their shoe laces. The actual start of movement was pretty slow. I couldn't stretch out and run, even with my typically short stride, until a few hundred yards past the finish line. The advice I've heard from REAL runners is that one should resist the temptation to sprint from the starting line of an endurance event. I'm sure some did, but most were just trying to find space. All the yelling and excitement became a tense hush of anxious breathing and soft footfalls. I spent a decent amount of time in the left lane, passing runners that were clearly slower and made room on my left for others looking to get past me, which there were plenty of. At this point I simply wanted enough space to run the course at my own speed.

(A fat guy ties his shoes sitting down. Photo by the lovely and
talented Ann Rogers.)

After spending the first mile swimming through the crowd, the cavern widened and the race distance set in for most people. Real estate became available. I had managed to stay out of the heals & elbows of the people in front of me and had spared the same to those behind me. I didn't see anyone go down or get injured but there were a few walkers by this point. People of all shapes, sizes, and ages were running this thing. The volunteers must have had a good time people-watching. If I ever get to run this thing again at a slower pace I'll tote a camera just for this purpose.

Also somewhere near the 1 mile mark I remembered what watches were for. I'd practically forgotten since the age of the cell phone set in years ago. Technically earbuds weren't allowed here for safety reasons, so I left my equipment with Assistant Annie. As a result I had no idea what pace I was actually setting and was forced to rely on my own sense of the speed and effort, which wasn't really a bad thing. Each mile was marked on the floor, but a watch still would have been valuable. Next time.

I've been doing a lot of cardio work the past couple of months and my heart rate and breathing were comfortable. I was working hard but felt prepared and unstressed, focusing on my stride, thinking of the book Chi Running that I'm still reading. Slight forward lean. Mid-foot strike. Relax. It was a good feeling and about as efficient as a guy carrying 43 extra pounds while running can feel, I think.

The course made several turns, but the scenery doesn't change much. Still white walls and mostly flat asphalt ground. It would be tempted to route runners in and out around the stone columns like an autocross slalom (there's today's automotive reference!), but I can see why the organizers wouldn't like that.

Rounding the last corner I think I heard U2's Where Streets Have No Name playing on the loudspeaker. I swear I'm not making that up. Passing the finish line was a bit anti-climactic. There was a hype man on the microphone but I mostly didn't hear him. The crowd was cheering away. Volunteers were seated on folding chairs, clipping off the RF ID chips off runners' shoes and dumping them in 5 gallon buckets. Just like that it was over and I had rejoined the crowd of non-runners. It had gone well; no doubling over, cramps, or puking. Shins and knees weren't screaming. Just a warm, fuzzy, sweaty feeling.

I think I ran a high 28, maybe a low 29 minute time, which was my goal. The finish timer read 30:15 but I hadn't yet set off when it started. The results will eventually be posted to the event website. The day before I weighed in at 218.4 lbs, nearly 2 lbs better than my goal of 220, so both of the goals were achieved. High-fives all around.

(The Man in Black, post-finish of his first 5k run.
Photo by the lovely and talented and
gracious Ann Rogers.)

Although I'm not looking to make running a serious hobby by itself, I'll be back next year. The challenge of the 10k is calling. Or maybe I should run the 5k again and see how much improvement is possible with much less baggage and yet  more preparation. It would be great to bring Isabella, who will be 10 years old then. I'd like to raise my kids doing things like this. Assistant Annie wishes she could have run but has struggled to find a running stride that doesn't hurt. I bet we can fix that before next year.

Jan. 30th Update: My elapsed time was 29 minutes, 26 seconds. That ranks me 649th out of 1801 runners. Better than the median then. No average time listed and I'm too lazy to convert the results to a spreadsheet for further analysis. I may be an engineer, but time is still a limited resource, even for nerds.