Monday, March 29, 2010

Wet and Dirty

The first three miles are a piece of cake. It's the last three that might kill me.

I'm in Media, Pa., running the Delco 10K through the hardscrabble grounds of the Tyler Arboretum. I don't think I've ever run more than five miles in one outing, because I don't really enjoy the process of running, but once you already have five miles behind you, what's one more to whittle away?

I awake at 6:15 a.m. and open the door to determine what to wear. It's cold, maybe thirty degrees, and the temperature won't likely rise into the forties till after the 9 a.m. race has concluded. The trail crosses a knee-deep creek at least four times, according to the race description, so I know I'll be getting wet. As cold as it seems in the wake of a recent warm spell, I suspect Gore-Tex and flannel are out of the question. I opt for track pants, a long-sleeve moisture-wicking shirt and an old fleece vest with a Danzig logo sewn into the shoulder. I may look homeless, but at least I won't freeze.

The race starts with nearly four-hundred participants standing elbow to elbow and ready to get wet and dirty. I've run only once in the past month, but my other cardiovascular training has me feeling fine as I ascend the first hill and scramble down its backside. It's good training for an upcoming "hell race" in Bear Creek, Pa., called The Tough Mudder, which is a seven-mile endurance race based on tactics used to train British Special Forces. But first I have to live through this one.

I push hard for the first three miles, passing other runners who choose to walk up the hills. At three and a half miles, I hit the wall and my pace slackens. Miles four and five hurt me, my right knee beginning to throb, but as I spot the red and white marker for mile six I regain my energy and finish strong, passing three runners in the final bend. My time: one hour, five minutes, two seconds -- good enough for a medal if medals were given for finishing in two-hundred-thirty-second place.

Clearly, I have a lot of work ahead of me before I get to Bear Creek in May.

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