I decided to mix up my training a bit and replace my scheduled 3 mile "easy run" with a 5K evening race throughout the surprisingly scenic streets of West Chester, Pennsylvania.
The reason I say "surprisingly scenic" is because I'm used to the streets of West Chester at night. A time when they possess a uniquely quaint quality of subdued chaos.
The small, college town charm of the main street and the side streets dotted with trendy looking restaurants are apparent, but there is added haze of spontaneity and recklessness in the air that hangs over the town on most Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights.
This time around, the haze of spontaneity and recklessness was replaced by that of philanthropy, friendship and athleticism. Over 230 runners gathered off Market street to run in the 2013 WC Stomps Cancer race, with many others participating in the walk as well.
Let me just start by saying that I didn't feel like I was in the ideal condition to run this race on this particular evening. I worked most of the day, drove about 2 hours in stop and go traffic and had a nagging, inevitable side stitch that I knew would latch on with a relentless grip during the race.
Maybe it was the Turkey Jerky I inhaled so that I wouldn't be hungry during the run. Possibly the 2 cups of coffee. Or maybe it was the fact that just the night before, I was immersed in the subdued chaos of West Chester in the evening, making a stop at Alibis and Side Bar to add a little spontaneity to my Thursday evening.
The starting line was a melting pot. Old veteran runners stretching their quads, the faint smell of Bengay following them on their warmup jog. Young kids excited to run with their parents. Weekend warriors looking for a unique start to their favorite time of the week. The diehards with the spandex, headbands, sport goggles, racing flats, and bulging calf muscles. The families. It was eclectic.
I took a few wind sprints and jogs around the neighborhood, looked around, and decided "hmm, I may be able to place here!" It looked more like the type of crowd you'd see at a relay for life event or even at the Exton Square Mall. Not necessarily a race
We were lined up and ready to go. A few speeches were made about the impact that the Bringing Hope Home Organization has had on the lives of people, a message from the sponsor, and finally, the start. A split second before we took off, I heard my name being shouted in the distance. To my surprise, my family was there cheering me on at the starting line!
I got off to a quick start, blistering through my first mile and trying to keep up with the short-shorts and headband sporting die hard runners blazing the trail and trotting confidently at the front of the pack. I kept up my speed, but slowly lost sight of the top of the pack as we curved around the streets of West Chester and my side stitch crept in slowly like an impending storm. Somehow I kept up the pace and stayed within the top 10 or so at the start.
Somewhere around mile 1.75 on a downhill slant, 2 girls no older than 12 flew down the hill at Usain Bolt-like speed.
They were huffing and puffing but had stoic looks on their identical twin-like faces that said "psh, we can do this in our sleep." But my thoughts of "I'm not losing to a 12 year old girl" overpowered it and I kicked it into gear, passing them around mile 2.
The final mile was an absolute battle between me and about 3 other people. An experienced runner in his mid 50's, a very serious, seemingly regimented diehard mid 20's runner girl, and a college-aged, backwards hat sporting athletic kid. I passed him, he passed her, she passed me, I passed her, he passed me again. There was even some interesting dialogue here as we're all running sub-6:25 miles.
The mid 50's guy spotted a lightning fast woman way ahead of us. "I told you she was fast!" he said. My response was something along the lines of "I had her earlier in the race!" As we ran side by side for about 400 meters, I felt a false sense of bonding, as if we were some sort of team. "We can pass this guy up ahead" I told him. He totally ignored me, kicked it into gear, and sped up.
I crossed the finish line at the 19:46 mark and exchanged high fives and handshakes with my fellow semi-fast finishers. "You just lost to a 56 year old man" was the one guys response. Of course, I responded to that with "....I was out drinking last night."
I watched more of the race on this beautiful September evening in West Chester, met up with my family, and then enjoyed some free food, affordable beer and live music at Barnaby's, which hosted the event. Nothing like some Yuengling, chicken fingers, ziti, and a meatball sandwich after powering through a 5K.
Events like this not only give me confidence in my running ability. They also instill within me a sense of community pride. Something I should really be a little more grateful for. After nearly 2 years living and working in Europe, it's become easy for me to downplay where I'm from. But it's events like this that bring my community vibrance and life and make me proud to be from this Southeastern part of Pennsylvania.
Sure, I plan to run a marathon (or at least a half marathon) on every continent and I have full intentions of exploring more of the world in years to come, but in this moment as the upbeat sounds of a Hawaiian looking dude jamming top 100 hits on his acoustic guitar filled the air, everyone was cheerful in their endorphin induced runners high. They were having a great time spending time with their families, their running teams, their charities and their friends. I was there alone, but I had some good conversations with fellow runners, first time runners and families.
I came to the race alone and I left feeling a bit more indirectly connected to the local community. We're nearly at the one month mark now! One more practice race (this time a 10K), some more fundraising, and a hell of a lot more training to go
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