Dateline: July 2016, Running in NJ and Maine… until…
After Yosemite, it was time to buckle down and run. Yes, run, and like it, damn it. Matt Arnold, my cousin’s husband, had invited me back in April to be the first member of his 12 person team for the Hood to Coast Relay: 200 miles, 1,000 teams, 2,000 vans, 12,000 runners, sells out in minutes.
I was, like, hmmm. I haven’t been running. But I did a relay once before, the Tom’s Run in Maryland. I don’t really enjoy running, but I do like riding in vans with sweaty strangers who become friends overnight and over 200 miles of suffering. So sure. Count me in.
I went to Pleasant Valley Park to begin to get fit. It was hot. It was sunny. It wasn’t fun. I did under 5k. But it was a start.
I kept at it. I figured the best thing to do was to go to Maine, train in a climate closer to Oregon’s. Oh, it was lovely. I came up with a five-mile route on Southport with Porta-potty availability. I ran in the morning, 60 degrees. What could be better? And the scenery can’t be beat.
Bridge
Just one problem. I texted Matt, asked about the weather in Portland (Oregon, not Maine!). He said it would probably be close to 90 degrees. Should have stayed in New Jersey, I guess. But I was having fun with family, sailing with Kip, celebrating a friend’s 80th birthday. And the running was going well.One Saturday, end of July, there was a race- the Rock the Boat 5k to benefit the Southport Yacht Club junior sailing program. Our next door neighbors clued me in. I figured it was a good chance to check my fitness. My plan? Run the race, then, in the afternoon, after watching women’s Olympic soccer, go for a second run. When you are going to have to run 17 miles in 36 hours, it’s important to try 2-a days, right? Matt told me to..
The 5k went well; I ran medium fast, and I didn’t feel like vomiting at the finish. I was third in my age group, and happy because I wasn’t sick. That meant, maybe, I was expanding my range. Things were looking good, one month to race day.
I watched the soccer then set off from Kay’s townhouse back to our home on Southport. It was 4.5 miles, with some hills. It was tough. I walked about 50 yards total. But I did it. Next day, rest day. Next day, bike ride. Third day…..
I set out for my five miles. I was hurting, my butt, left side. I said, ok, it’s going to hurt, keep going. It got a bit looser, then I met a woman my age, a triathlete. We finished up together. She was renting a cottage two doors down from me.
By the next day, I knew I was in trouble. Only 3 weeks now until race day. I went back to the physical therapy place I worked at for five years. Kelly worked on me every day. It was a strain at the piriformis and hamstring insertion. I followed her instructions exactly. I went to the track to walk/jog. And with just a week to go until departure, I wasn’t capable of running 400 meters. I called Matt, and through tears, told him I was OUT. Twenty five percent of my team dropped out in the final week, injured. I pushed too far, too fast. I needed more time, or I needed to stop running races. I’m not sure which.
Nothing was going to stop me from going to Oregon to see family. Kip and I volunteered on the course for the Hood to Coast. As luck would have it, we drew leg 11, and we were in charge of getting runners safely across a highway ramp at rush hour(s). Five hours.
It was 97 degrees. Had I not been injured, Leg 11 would have been mine to run. As one competitor opined as she dodged cars, “This leg sucks.” Truer words were never spoken.
Without my running a step, the Old School Corduroys completed the Hood to Coast. And not a single runner was injured or killed on Leg 11, at least during the 12 to 5 pm shift Saturday. And that is something to cheer about. Even better, though I couldn’t run, I could hike, and I was able to bag Oregon and Washington and have fun doing it. Keep on reading for details.