Sometimes, I think there must be something wrong with me.  Upstairs, you know.

You see, I have certain trigger words that will make me do things that otherwise, when I’m thinking clearly, I would realize are DUMB.  Such as, for instance, the words “long-sleeved t-shirt.”  If you promise me a long-sleeved t-shirt, evidently, I will check my sanity at the door and decide that it sounds perfectly reasonable, even fun, to run a 5K ten days before Christmas.  All I can say for myself is, I was seduced by the words “flat” and “fast” that the race organizers used to describe the course.  And, of course, the prospect of a long-sleeved t-shirt.  So, naturally, on a beautiful clear fall day, I decided this would be a good idea and signed up.

The word “misguided” comes to mind.  So does the word “idiot.”

Over the past few days, Mother Nature has dumped on us repeatedly.  I’m told that this isn’t even that bad and it will get worse.  But it was bad enough that hubby had me checking my email constantly for notification that the race was being cancelled.  No such notification came, though, so on Sunday I dressed in my warmest running clothes and my Smartwool socks and headed down to the Cobblestone District for the Freezer 5K.

I knew immediately that I was in for an interesting race.  The roads on the way downtown were covered in slush and I had to steer around several big piles of snow (and I was driving on a major thoroughfare).  This was no Turkey Trot – just a small, informal, laid-back local race – so I didn’t have any delusions about major efforts to clear the course.  I knew that the course would get the same treatment the other roads got, and we’d have to be content with that.  And it was going to be slick.  I arrived at the race hub – a downtown bar where the race organizers were coordinating packet pick-up and the start – grabbed my bib, my packet and my t-shirt, and headed back to the car to drop off my stuff.  Picking my way through the parking lot, I heard someone calling to me.  A couple sitting in their car to warm up (just what I was on my way to do) asked me if I knew anything about whether there would be chips.

“That’s an excellent question,” I said, realizing that I hadn’t gotten a chip for my shoe and that there was nothing on the back of my bib, and feeling pretty stupid for not even thinking about it while I was picking up my race packet.  “Maybe it’s gun time?”

We chatted for a few minutes and agreed to fill each other in if any of us got an answer (and if I found them again, or vice versa).  I headed to my car and sat with the heaters on full blast, reading blogs until it was time to head to the start.  On my way back into the race hub, I heard “That’s the girl!  Hey!”  Turning around, I saw my new friends from the parking lot, who told me that there were no chips and we were just supposed to hand in a tear-off segment of our bib at the finish.  Not sure how that was supposed to work, and wondering how we’d have official finishing times without chips, I shrugged, thanked them and wished them good luck, and headed off to wait for the start.  Just as I was getting ready to leave the comparative warmth of the bar and venture outside to the start line, the race organizers made a disconcerting announcement:

Part of the course was completely impassible, so there would be a course change.  We were supposed to run by the waterfront, but the area was so socked in with snow that we couldn’t get through.  Instead, we’d be running to a turnaround point and then making an extra lap around First Niagara Center (the local NHL team’s arena).  The course would be a little long as a result, but it was the best they could do.  It didn’t make much difference to me, since I had no time goals and was just there for fun (and obviously, for the t-shirt).  I joined the crowd of runners streaming to the start line, where I took this picture:

That, in general, was what the course looked like.  There was one short stretch that was clear, and there were a few drifts that we had to run through, but pretty much, this was what we were going to be dealing with.  It got progressively slushier and slicker as the morning went on.  I steeled myself and reminded myself of my only goal for the day: not to break my ankle.  I really didn’t care if it took me 40 minutes – or longer – to finish.  Just as long as I finished without breaking any bones, I was going to consider the morning a wild success.  After all, I already had the t-shirt we’ve established I will go to ridiculous lengths to get.

The Abominable Snowman fired the gun, and we were off.  I followed the crowd and just tried to stay upright.  As we rounded the first corner, a guy shouted out, “It’s just like running on the beach in the Bahamas!  C’mon, gang!  Let’s have fun!”  He got a few cheers in response, and then we all buckled in for the ride.

After my first pass by First Niagara Center, I saw the leaders coming back from the turnaround.  They were hauling the mail, despite the slushy conditions.  I cheered for them inwardly, although I was still trying to focus most of my attention on not falling down.  (That’s also why there are no pictures from this race: I kept my phone in my pocket and my eyes on the road.)  I passed the finish line, noticing that it read just about 20 minutes, and headed out for my second loop around the arena, high-fiving the Abominable Snowman as I settled into the lap.  Before long, I realized my shoe was untied.  Ugh.  I knelt down, tied it, and continued on my way… for about two blocks, before it came untied again – the first and second times I’ve had to stop during a race to tie my shoe.

The Finish Line: Final Time 32:10

As we completed our second lap, I knew I had some gas left, so I made a play to pass a few people.  I hopped over to a relatively clear patch of pavement and just started running as fast as I could.  I pounded my way to the finish line and, just before I tore across, realized that the clock read 32:10.

WHAT?  32:10 is fast for me, even under the best conditions.  My 5K PR is 32:04 – only six seconds faster than I ran this race, in the slush – and this was a long course (although I don’t know how much past the 3.1 miles it actually went).  I was absolutely shocked at my time.  I’d expected to run closer to 36 minutes and would have been thrilled with that time; the last time I ran a 5K race in the snow I finished in a frustrating 37 minutes (I was pregnant at the time, but didn’t know it yet).

Honestly, I’m not sure how I pulled out this race.  I’m well-conditioned, thanks to Turkey Trot training.  This was also a smaller race, so I didn’t really spend any time weaving around other runners.  But still.  To run 32:10, in the snow, on roads so slippery that I wasn’t sure I’d finish the race upright?  Yeah, I’m a little baffled by that, but also really proud.  Makes me wonder what I could have done under ideal racing conditions… guess I’ll have to look for a spring 5K to find out.

Will I run this race again?  Not sure.  It was fun, and I definitely admire the race organizers for being able to work with the snowy conditions.  But man alive, it was COLD.  Right now, still thawing out, I am inclined to ask hubby to chase me away from the computer if I try to sign up for another December race, long-sleeved t-shirt or no.  But ask me again in October, when I’ll probably think that a holiday race sounds “fun.”  Like I said, misguided.

Edited: The official results are up and it appears the course ended up being short, not long.  My time was 32:11 for 2.76 miles.  So, not a PR, or even close to one, but I still can’t complain – it was slushy and slick and I’m proud to have gotten out there, run in the muck and finished it!

Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends!  I hope you all had a fabulous day yesterday, filled with plenty of turkey and mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce (the Thanksgiving Trifecta, as I like to call it).  I did, and I’ll fill you in all about the whole weekend on Monday, but today I want to share how I started Thanksgiving Day: with 12,000 of my closest friends, running down Delaware Avenue in Buffalo.

This was my third Turkey Trot, and it’s such a fun way to kick off the holiday season.  I ran the Buffalo Turkey Trot with my sister-in-law Grace back in 2010 and the Troy Turkey Trot with my dad and high school BFF in 2011.  (I didn’t trot in 2012, because I was still recovering from Hurricane Peanut.)  This year I had a big goal – I really, really wanted to PR (beat my personal record in the 8k distance).  I trained hard over the course of the fall and I was pretty confident that I’d get not only a PR, but a big one… until race day, when I woke up to this view:

I’m all for a white Christmas, but a white Thanksgiving?  That’s real… unnatural.

Needless to say, I was pretty unhappy about the view out my window.  We live on a major, high-traffic road and the race was being run not too far from my neighborhood.  So I was just a leetle bit worried about the road conditions.  It looked as though the plough went through, but there was no salt on the road and there was an inch of slushy slop covering the entire surface.  If Delaware Avenue – on which 95% of the race is run – looked anything like this, I knew my PR was out the window.  I wanted to set a new record for myself, but not badly enough to break an ankle.  So I took a deep breath and tried to revise my goal to just have fun with my sisters-in-law and worry about a PR at the Shamrock 8k in March.

I grabbed an easy but filling breakfast (banana with pecan butter, Larabar and two cups of tea) and at 8:35 on the button, my father-in-law and sisters-in-law rang the doorbell.  I hopped in the car and my father-in-law dropped me, Emma and Grace off at the starting line.  We were almost late – thanks, snow and traffic – and had to run to the corrals, but we made it.

Have I mentioned that it was COLD?  The temperature was in the high teens.  Brrrrrrrr.

I could tell immediately upon arriving at the start line that Delaware Avenue looked much better than my street.  Yay!  The city snow crews must have given my street a cursory effort because they were all busy getting Delaware into race shape.  (They obviously went back for a second pass at my street later, because it looks fine now.)  The road was a little wet, but otherwise perfectly fine.  I decided to go for my PR after all.  My A, B and C goals for the race were:

A – Beat my previous 8k PR of 56:19.
B – Run the entire race in under an hour.
C – Finish.  (This is always my C goal.  Heck, sometimes it’s my A goal!)

The loudspeakers played The Star-Spangled Banner, and we were off!

(The start lines, viewed from the corrals just as we started to move.)

Miles 0-1

The first mile of the race was wall-to-wall people.  I tried to find some running room, but there wasn’t really much space to be had.  I waved to my father-in-law, who was cheering just past the start line and spent the rest of the mile fighting my way through the crowds.  The first mile does contain one of the most fun moments of the race – when you run under the “New York Central” bridge and everyone shouts “WOOOOOOO!” all at once.  Sorry for the crummy picture, but I was running:

As expected, the first mile was my slowest – but I was so distracted by just trying to find an unoccupied patch of pavement to put my feet that it seemed like no time at all before I saw the flag marking Mile 1.

Miles 1-2

Aside from the finish line, I was happiest and most excited during this stretch, because I knew that “my” spectators would be waiting for me.  Just as expected, right before the 1.5 mile mark, I saw my two favorite faces:

Look how disgruntled Peanut is!  You can just see her thinking, “What new way have they come up with to torture me now?”  I took a quick detour to give her kisses all over her face, and she slapped me.  I laughed and headed back onto the road.

Miles 2-4

Somehow I missed the mile marker for Mile 3, and this felt like the longest mile of my life, until I realized… duh.  This was the stretch where I dug deep and focused on running a smart race.  There was one traffic circle and I carefully ran the tangents in an attempt to get down closer to the shortest legal distance.  (A smart strategy during any race, but especially a race like this, where the crowd never thinned out and I spent the entire time weaving between other runners – I knew that I was running much longer than the 8k distance.)  I dug into my bag of motivational tricks to keep my feet going: picking a spot on the pavement to stare at until I ran over it, and then another and another, and repeating my favorite mantras: “go mama go” and “strong legs, strong mind.”  I pulled out that second mantra when the lazy part of my brain started suggesting that I take a walk break – even though I knew that I didn’t need one.  My legs weren’t tired at all and the rest of me felt great too, so it was only my mind that wanted to slow down and walk.  I instructed my mind to get on board with my legs, and we kept running.

Miles 4-4.97

Just before Mile 4, the road starts sloping noticeably downhill.  Yay!  (It’s pretty much all flat or downhill anyway, but the last major stretch is really downhill, and so much fun.)  My overall plan for the race had been to run at a comfortable pace for the first four miles and conserve plenty of energy, and then turn on the burners in the last mile.  So when I saw the flag marking Mile 4, I started to gradually pick up the pace.  By the time we entered Niagara Square, with just under half a mile left, I was flying.  (Or, flying as best I could while weaving in and out of the crowds of other runners.)  I turned two corners and saw the finish line looming up ahead.  Hooray!  Or maybe not…

The Finish Line

This was where my race experience soured.  I ran all out in the last short stretch and I felt like I was floating two feet above the road… until about five feet before the finish line, when I came to a screeching halt.  There was a bottleneck inside the finishers’ chute, caused by people crossing the line and coming to a dead stop (exactly what the pre-race email warned people not to do), and the bottleneck had spilled out of the finishers’ chute and was making it impossible to cross the finish line at all, let alone at a run.

I just barely managed to stop without mowing down the people in front of me and immediately screamed with frustration.  Was I really standing here, completely still, not moving at all, five feet before the finish line?  This had to be a joke.  Alas… nope.  Those last five feet took almost a full minute to travel.  I was incredibly frustrated because up to that point, I had run exactly the race I wanted to, I was feeling great about my training and the effort I’d put in, and I knew I was very close to my hoped-for PR.  I finally crossed the line, but instead of the huge smile I had worn for 99% of the race, I had a huge scowl.

Final time: 55:40.

So, despite the snag at the finish line, I did end up hitting my “A” goal for the day.  I PRed by 39 seconds.  I was happy to get the PR I wanted, of course, and I was proud of the effort I put into training and on race day… but it stinks to know that you could have finished faster, were it not for a circumstance outside your control, like bottlenecking at the finish line.  If I had missed out on a PR because of the weather, I’d have been bummed, but I wouldn’t have been too upset, because no one can control that.  But losing out on the chance to sprint across the finish line because of other people’s inconsiderate behavior – stopping in the finishers’ chute – really left a bad taste in my mouth.  I tried to reframe the experience in my mind to make it more positive: after all, if I hadn’t trained well, run smart, and poured it on in the last mile, I wouldn’t have hit my PR at all.  So the good work I did earlier in the race made it possible for me to have a good day and meet my “A” goal – my first PR in over three years! – despite hitting a snag at the finish line.

Still, I’m looking ahead to another chance to PR, and this time the way I want to, at the Shamrock 8k in March.  I’ll be crossing that finish line at speed, even if I have to sprout wings and fly.

If you trotted on Thursday, I hope you had a great race!  I’ll be back on Monday with a recap of the rest of our Thanksgiving festivities.