Talk about a low-key race

Today I ran a 10K. Well, sort of. Let's not talk about my "performance", except to say that it has been decided that I really do need to see a doctor this week. And if there is nothing conclusively medically wrong with me, then you may soon find a whole bunch of tri stuff up on craigslist pretty soon for very reasonable prices just so I can get it out of my sight and stop deluding myself.

Anyway, the race was to start at 1pm, obviously a very reasonable time. It sort of messes with the whole pre-race breakfast thing, so I had a granola bar and some Powerbar Endurance for breakfast and then at 11 I got to have the season's first applesauce/banana/protein powder pre-race meal. I had forgotten how much easier a cup and a half of applesauce is to get down than 3 cups is. Especially when you didn't spend the prior two days carbo loading. I was actually concerned that between the granola bar breakfast and the later meal I'd be kind of hungry, but I needn't have worried. I forgot that I haven't been especially hungry in general lately, oddly. So no issue there.

I was quite happy to spend the morning reading the Sunday paper and not so happy to head down to Danvers at about 11:15. I tried to remember the last time I didn't dread a running race. The directions were simple enough and it took me less than an hour to get there. I turned onto the road I was supposed to, and on coolrunning.com all we were given was an address. It seemed like a pretty residential area, so I started to wonder if maybe the address on the web site wasn't the address of the start but maybe the address of the race organizer. I passed a park, thinking maybe that was it. Then I saw a church but there were no cars parked there and I wasn't at the address yet. Then I finally spotted a timing clock standing by the side of the road and a white spray-painted line on the pavement. I glanced off to the right to see that apprently this race was due to start from some random person's house.

I parked in the street and went in to register, which consisted of walking into the strange person's house, handing over $5, writing my name on one piece of paper and getting a sticker with my name on it to run with. We were told that at the end of the race we'd be given a popsicle stick - much like the elementary school cross country races I've seen - and we'd turn that in at the end. Needless to say, there were no bib numbers, water stops, post-race food, goodie bags or race announcers. After wandering down the hall to use the stranger's bathroom, I went outside to await the start of the race.

The pre-race instructions involved an old man saying some things like, "I usually run facing traffic, but if you all just stayed on the same side of the road together, that would probably be a good idea." So apparently the roads weren't going to be closed - not that that was a surprise. Nor were there any police, just occasionally a person standing on a corner. I'm wondering if they even legally had a right to be holding this race. He also told us that the race was "about" 10K... which of course means, it's just however long it's going to be. The last bit of instructions as we lined up to start went something like this: "I guess I'll just say ready, go. Okay? So, ready, go." I felt more like I was in a relay race at summer camp or something.

Amazingly, each mile was actually marked with a sign. Whether or not they were accurate may be a totally different matter, but considering the other race "amenities" this quite surprised me. There was one stretch of road that was downright scary with no shoulder and lots of cars, but then we turned off on some side streets and the course itself really wasn't too bad. It was just such an odd experience overall. I crossed the finish line all alone and got my popsicle stick, and against my better judgment I turned it in with my name sticker. I think there were about 35 people who raced, maybe. Imagine if the Patriots had been playing today, there would've been nobody! And each participant got to pick their prize out of the prize box. I got some gloves, but I could've also taken a beer glass, a mini flashlight, or some random t-shirt.

So essentially, this was barely a step up from inviting some friends over to run a "race" around the neighborhood. A far cry from my next running race, Hyannis, which will have thousands. You know, if I don't sell all of my running shoes on e-bay by then. I've still got the bike that won Lake Placid. Do you think I could get a decent amount for it?