Wednesday's Race

I jogged down to yesterday’s downtown noontime 3K race around the Tidal Basin in the rain. At least it had stopped snowing.

A small band of hardy runners was there. A Parks Policewoman stopped by in her cruiser to hurry us along in our dispersal so that a gathering which didn’t have a permit didn’t tarry too long on federal parks land. The Race Director hurried over to speak with her, and made sure that nobody left any sweatshirts or fanny packs lying about for the quarter hour we’d be gone while we ran around the Tidal Basin. Suspicious packages, you know.

Off we set in the gloom. Peter, who is about my speed and age, got away from me quickly at the start and I didn’t expect to see him again. Running along the Tidal Basin, the water was gray and choppy. The Jefferson Memorial across the way was partially obscured in the cold mist.

Although he is faster than me, I stayed ahead of the Race Director this race, as he had run a 3:25 marathon only three days earlier. He was never far behind though.

I tried to sprint down the 100 meter highway bridge over a northern arm of the water. I tried to power up the short hill just beyond, which runs past the Tulip Library at the 1K mark. I imagined the bulbs sleeping underground, just starting to stir with the end of winter beckoning. Both attempts at shaking up my race effort midway through were only moderately successful.

There was none of the usual jockeying for position around me in this particular race, which would count only 23 finishers. Normally a steady stream of half a dozen familiar runners goes by me after the starting line crowd has sorted itself out.

I set my sights on the runner ahead and gradually pulled close. He surged. I pulled close again and passed him at the 2K mark, behind the Jefferson Memorial.

Up ahead was Peter, coming back to me slightly. On the last uphill, the bridge over the Potomac inlet, I drew to within ten yards of him. That was as good as it was going to get. Peter increased the distance between us steadily on the long finishing straightaway and finished eight seconds ahead.

I pushed hard at the end to beat 14 minutes, finishing in 13:50 (7:25). I was 13th overall, and the thirteenth male out of twenty.

It was the 421st monthly running of this race, of which I have done 93.

I missed!

I didn't run in this month's noontime Tidal Basin 3K race for the first time since September 2006. Back then I was out in California to run the Inaugural Disneyland Half-Marathon and see baseball games in three different baseball parks (Padres, Dodgers and A's). This month I had to file a case in Tampa for my agency. Sometimes work intrudes upon running. Don't you just hate it when that happens?

When I returned I jogged down to the Tidal Basin and lined up. 14:05 (7:33) later I was back, having completed my virtual race. Heh, heh, I beat my doppelganger Peter, who ran in the actual race, and he doesn't even know it.

Before I missed this month's actual race, I had run in 89 of the last 98 of these monthly races. So, how do I count this virtual race? Runners aren't obsessive, oh no.

Yawn, another 3K.

A week ago Wednesday was the monthly noontime Tidal Basin 3K race. Several people I knew from running were there.

Such as Jose, who is faster than me. He asked me what time I was going to get, because he likes my pace and he always runs a little ways behind me until the two-thirds point, when he effortlessly moves way up, always speaking encouragement to everyone he passes. I like Jose a lot, and he is a good guy, but it’s irritating to hear him coming and know you’re next. I told Jose I was shooting for 13:10, because that’s what I ran last month.

I ran by Peter early, as usual, and settled into a steady pace behind the fourth woman, who was running at a pace I liked. Yeah, this is the ticket, I told myself as I fell in 10 meters behind this pretty blonde thirty-something with the nice stride and the nicer lines.

I missed the 1K and one mile markers but passed by the 2K mark at 8:37 (6:56). Jose passed me around here, speaking encouragingly to me as he did so, telling me how great I looked and how smooth I was running. I hope he didn't see my thought bubble which was screaming, Liar! Jose rapidly drew off and went past the woman I was chasing, finishing well ahead of us both.

Soon, despite my desire, I couldn’t keep up with the woman anymore and she started to draw ahead too. Then two men passed me. With three hundred meters I passed one of them back. He passed me again. I glanced over my shoulder but didn’t see Peter back there. I could see the finish clock now, in the high 12s. I didn’t think I could get there in time to break 13, always my objective in this race, but I did make a push and passed the second man one last time. I finished one second ahead of him in 13:03 (7:00).

I was 31/61, six seconds behind the woman I had been pursuing all race and four seconds behind the man who passed me late. Peter, the caboose in our busy little bunch, finished ten seconds behind me, one second in back of the fifth woman. I regretted not going with the first man who passed me late because then I might have broken 13 minutes, as he finished in 12:59. But I was happy I found the energy to engage in a duel with the second man who passed me late because I have been working on finishing more strongly.

This, my 88th Tidal Basin race, was yet another fun short race.

Disruptions

At noon today I ran in the monthly Tidal Basin 3K race. There were about 60 of us mad dogs and Englishmen out there running in the midday August heat.

I haven’t been running too well this year so I have started doing track workouts. Last night I ran 8X600 at 2:50s (7:36 pace) with a 200M recovery jog. Those intervals about killed me so I wasn’t expecting to do well today.

I was thinking about the track workout as I passed by the half-mile mark in the 1.86 mile race. I was busy formulating in my mind how the prior evening’s routine had doomed today’s race so I could mentally quit and "walk it in" at an easy pace.

This monthly race has its own immutable rhythm. All of the regular males were ahead of me, along with at least one woman. Another woman, perhaps the second female, was practically on my hip. Suddenly my doppelganger, Peter, cruised by me.

Peter, who is about my age and about my speed, keeps me honest in this race. He is my conscience.

Usually he doesn’t pass me until late, after a mile and a half have been run. Then he puts me away with his finishing speed. Whenever I beat him, it’s always because I have built up too large a lead during the first mile and a half for him to overcome.

Today his pass was early. I passed him back. He passed me again. I passed him once more. Again he passed me. I returned the favor again.

This could seem to be a riveting battle if it didn’t merely involve a couple of middle-aged mid-packers in an obscure (but venerable–dating back to 1974) little noontime downtown race.

I passed by the mile marker in 6:55, about 10 seconds faster than usual.

I started casting covetous looks at the back of the septuagenarian who always goes by me early and beats me by a few seconds. Maybe today I would overtake the 71-year old and it would induce me to a sub-13 minute finish, a rarity for me.

This month’s race, unlike most months, didn’t stretch out interminably. It passed by swiftly and I was able to take deep breaths during its latter stages. Maybe the track work was helping, not hindering, me.

Two or three younger men passed me late, but the second woman didn’t, nor did Peter. The 71-year old finished five seconds ahead of me. I finished in 13:09 (7:03), a fifteen second improvement over last month.

Peter came in a few seconds later. I jokingly accused him of trying to disrupt the natural flow of this monthly race by passing me too early. He said he was trying something different, pushing it early so he could pass me sooner rather than later. It left him with nothing for the final stretch, he said. I told him his uncharacteristic appearance beside me so early in the race had induced me to run an extra-fast first mile.

He said earnestly, "You’re welcome," and we both laughed.