Had some difficulty finding somewhere suitable to eat. I would have been happy at any old Italian place just to have a plate of spaghetti, but wanted B to have better options too. We ended up at a restaurant on the boardwalk in Rehoboth Beach, one I will leave nameless because I don't want to give it a bad name just because my experience wasn't exceptional -- it wasn't really their fault, if I hadn't been looking for a specific type of fare it would have been just fine. I wanted the chicken parm with its pile of noodles, but it turned out (after we had settled in at the bar and ordered) that they were out of that and it was off the menu for the night. There was only one other noodle-based dish -- a mac and cheese that was all seafoody, so it wasn't really an option. I ended up with a grilled chicken sandwich and my only carb-loading for the night consisted of the bun and fries (do they really even count?). I tried to tell myself if didn't matter if my calorie store really came from noodles or something else, I wouldn't be depleting my stores over only ten miles anyway, right? I wasn't getting ready for a marathon. It's just tradition; I pretty much never have anything but pasta the night before the race.
I am not sure it was enough calories, whatever their source. I had a granola bar in the hotel while watching the Flyers, just to try to top off the tank, but in the morning I felt very hungry. I was also very tired. I had extreme difficulty getting to sleep, for a variety of reasons, top among them being a jazzed-up excitement because the Flyers had won game 5 when they had absolutely zero business winning that game by all statistics and reasonable expectations; add to that the usual pre-race brain activity (where I pretty unwillingly fantasize the race outcome to both extremes, I'm either dominating in super-PR time or I am crashing and burning all to hell) and some snoring by B, it was a couple hours before my brain cooled it enough to drop off. I tried to hydrate before going to bed (but not so much that I would spend all night dreaming about having to pee, and then waking numerous times to actually pee), but the few times that I did wake, I always felt very thirsty. I got up at 6:30, feeling a little sandy-headed, hungry, and thirsty.
Breakfast in the hotel: a bowl of oatmeal and a piece of wheat toast and peanut butter. Nothing so different from what I eat at home pre-long run, just different oatmeal. Still felt a little hungry but was afraid of eating too much and it sitting in my stomach when the race started in about an hour and a half. Tried to drink more, but not so much that I would think I needed to pee every five minutes once we got to the starting area in Lewes. Pretty sure I was overthinking everything, it was just ten miles, after all, not a marathon.
It was not raining when we left for the start, around 7:45. It was heavily overcast, warmish and very humid after a night of rain. The radar suggested it might rain during the race, and I debated wearing a cap because I hate to have rain in my face -- but it was so warm I hesitated, as a hat would only amplify the warmth. Once again, probably overthinking it; it was only ten miles, so I decided against the hat and would just take the rain in my face if it happened. It wouldn't be for three hours like it was in Boston, so it would be ok enough. (It ended up not raining, but I thought during the race that a little rain might feel good.)
I only felt like I had to use the porta-potty once while we were there, and that was mainly because I figured I should before the start more than any actual pressing need. This was maybe a warning sign, and I sipped water while waiting around for the start.
It was a little chaotic around the starting line, and there was a delay with starting for one reason or another; there was a "kiddy K" that we had to wait for as well. I had already said goodbye to B and was standing in the midst of the crowd, and had no water with me, and the longer we had to wait around, the more I regretted that. I had taken a gel around 8:20, anticipating the 8:30 start, but it wasn't until almost 8:45 that we finally got going. Nothing was timed right for me, and when I started, I was thirsty and I don't know if the gel was doing any good by then.
I had to struggle to get around slower runners in the first 100-200m, stepping alongside the road into some muddy grass, and my legs immediately alarmed me; no spring in them, my quads a little stiff. I tried to set aside any worry about that, as it often takes me a mile or two to get into the rhythm and feel comfortable, but by 1-2 miles, I was not feeling much better. I ticked off a couple miles around 7:10, and knew then that it was too fast for how not-good I felt, but every time I tried to back off on the pace, I'd look down a little bit later and I'd be back around 7:15 or so. I just couldn't manage to keep myself under control, which was frustrating. So I decided to just go with it, if I blew up later it wouldn't be the worst thing. There would be some solid tempo miles out of it no matter what happened.
There wasn't water until mile 2, and the swallow I got from the cup wasn't enough. Not another stop until a little before mile 4 or so. Another swallow that wasn't quite enough. Just after mile 4, the flat, paved path we were running on ended and became a flat, packed-dirt path under trees. Instantly I felt slower without the spring-back of the harder pavement. There was no one around me. I had been running quite alone since before mile 2, when I passed two guys going up over the bridge across a narrow canal. I had been able to see a guy and a girl maybe 100-150m ahead of me for a while, and they were still on up ahead, but too far to even pretend to keep contact with and there was no one anywhere close behind me. Having to do all the mental work alone on an unfamiliar course while feeling less than good is tough. Between mile 4 and 5, I slowed way down. After averaging around 7:11 for the first 4 miles, my split for mile 5 was 7:27. This is partly due to the canopy of trees overhead, which confuses the Garmin a bit, but mostly due to my pace falling off. It was disappointing, but though I tried to surge a little and pick pace back up, I now had the opposite problem as I did earlier: instead of not being able to hold down I now could hold up.
A while after mile 4, the leaders started filtering back past me. They were very spread out. Two women were ahead of me; first place was waaay out in front of me, second place (the girl I could see) maybe 1, 1:30 ahead? After I went around the turnaround (no timing mat, which surprised me), I saw just how alone I was. The next runners were a couple/three minutes back. For a while though, I felt a little refreshed and faster (even though I was slowing) because I was passing a bunch of people going the other way. I was glad to leave the tree cover and leave the dirt path and get back to the asphalt, because I would feel better without the ground absorbing my footfalls and the Garmin would be more accurate. Unfortunately, even with these two factors, I was not much faster, in fact I stayed around 7:30 for the next 3 miles or so.
I started to think I was gaining ground on the second place woman, but she was still quite a good distance ahead of me. It just seemed the distance narrowed, but I was going to run out of real estate before I caught her. If it had been a half marathon, I might have (assuming I didn't crater even more during that further three miles). She ended up about 45 seconds ahead. I squeezed my pace a bit during the last mile, managing 7:20, but it wasn't good enough to catch her and it wasn't enough to really bring my time to anything I would say I was happy with. I am just glad that I could squeeze that little more out of myself. I was pretty well cooked, thirsty and hot and very swampy sweaty. The finish is a straightaway down a flat road, which I sailed down completely alone. B was near the finish, snapping pics. Two girls at the finish line stretched a banner across for me to run through. I was briefly confused, because I knew I was in third place -- was there someone finishing first for some other division somehow right behind me?? -- but no, they were stretching it for me. I thought that was a little odd and maybe even patronizing for third place, but I ran through it and felt a little fraudulent. I should only be breaking a banner for first place.
But I was first place in my division, I guess, so perhaps not such a fraud (but still, odd). They gave awards for first overall M and F, and everyone thereafter would be age-groupers. Frankly I'd rather be awarded third overall than 1st in F30-39, but I'll take the medal and enjoy seeing my name in the leaderboard in third place.
As you see, my chip time was 1:14:29. 3rd female overall, 1st F30-39, and 10th overall out of 120 finishers. Not my best, not my worst 10-mile. I wish I'd been able to pace it better (I don't know what my problem was, there) and I wish I'd felt better but I think things just didn't come together on a warm and humid day. Not too disappointed in the end. I didn't really back off for this race (unless you count taking Friday off) so wasn't exactly fresh for it, and if nothing else, I got in a pretty decent tempo workout. And I got to see the ocean at Cape Henlopen afterward.
I want to mention that the volunteers on the course were great. I want to thank them for spending their Saturday morning holding up traffic for me (and the rest of us) as I crossed intersections and for cheering me on -- their enthusiasm was almost all that stood between it feeling like a real race rather than a long tempo workout all on my own on a new path. Thanks for saying I looked great/strong/amazing, because I sure didn't feel great/strong/amazing! If I didn't intend on having terribly dead legs next April from running my best Boston ever, I'd come back to defend my third place finish.
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