Random Thoughts on a Race Well Run (by T)

One of the most fun little -- but competitive -- 5km races I know of takes place annually in Harwich, Massachusetts on the last Saturday of June. This year was its third year. We 've run it the past two years -- last year out of "oh, this looks interesting what-the-heckness," and this year because it was such a great experience last time.

Last year we debated what to do with T while we all ran the 3.1 mile distance. I was afraid that was too far for his five-year-old legs. We were on the Cape without a babysitter available, so he came with. He ran with my niece, who coaxed him along with bribes of soda and ice cream to a third place finish in his age group, in a time of 37:52. They were ahead of me most of the race, but I caught up with about 400 meters to go. That gave him a bit of an incentive to pick up the pace and he stayed with me until we turned the corner for the final 100 meters to the finish line, when I told him, "NOW! Run as fast as you can NOW!"

I thought that with my legendary kick, I would outsprint him to the finish, but he tore down that lane like there was no tomorrow and got me by three seconds. He then turned around, started to cry, held his arms up to be picked up, and whimpered that his legs hurt. My niece gave up her personal goal in order to get him to the finish, so a shout out to her for her unselfishness. If he'd run with me, he would have complained the whole way and we would have been taking a lot of walking breaks. Running with her, he was determined not to let me pass him -- and he didn't.

Generally, the first age group in road races is 12-and-under, and the rest of us all knew WE hadn't placed, so we went across the street for cappuccinos and pastries, which seemed to ease the tears of a child learning that running long is hard work. It wasn't until we got home from the Cape that I saw in the results that in this race the first age group is for seven-and-under, and T had placed. I emailed the race chairperson and she mailed us his third place medal, making him one very happy boy.

It was touch and go as to whether we'd be making the Cape again this year -- and my biggest disappointment wasn't for missing the beaches or the bike rides or hermit-crab hunting at low tide in the bay -- but T's opportunity to come back and vie not only to retain his third place finish, but win his age group outright. His running improved in leaps and bounds over the winter, and it seemed a shame for him not to get the chance to win. With about two weeks to go, we learned the Cape was on, so we signed him up for a 5km the weekend before as a tune-up. He shattered his previous time by nine minutes in that run, so the odds seemed in his favor for a good race at the Harwich 5K, as long as he remained healthy, which he did.

Race day dawned gray, cool, and breezy -- perfect! T and Daddy went out a little too fast, so he struggled a bit in his third mile, but he pulled it together and crossed in 27:37, a minute and 15 seconds faster than the week before. This year we were not going to miss the awards ceremony! We hoofed down the street to Ember, the local pizzeria/pub and discovered what we missed last year -- a completely free post race party with pizza, chicken wings, ziti, pasta salad, Caesar salad, and crudites. And beer for the purchase, mmmm, but I digress. The line was oh, about 600 people long, and we were at the tail end of it, so I went in to the patio to listen for when they would start the awards ceremony. Just as S, T, and the other S got up to the buffet, it started.

First, second, and third overall places were handed out first. Then they started with "boys seven and under." T had just put a chicken wing on his plate. I ran inside, grabbed him, and pushed or pulled him -- I don't really remember -- onto the patio, just in time for us to hear the announcer say, "...in first place with a time of -- OH MY GOODNESS -- 27:37, is T K." I had to push my shy little boy up to the front to collect his ginormous trophy -- which he later turned into an action figure, requiring Mommy to take possession of it and put it on a very high shelf once we got it home safely. He then had to endure attention from many, many strangers all around the patio. It's so hard for him to be the center of attention when he hasn't chosen to be, but I could tell he was very proud.

Last year's second place winner -- who that year lost out to his brother, who has since aged out of the seven-and-under group -- took second again. I feel kind of badly for him -- he was probably expecting it would be his turn to win. But he was very gracious in coming over to congratulate T, and with some prompting, T congratulated him on his medal. Little did any of us know that T would take more than 10 minutes off his time in the space of one year. And this year not cry. Not need to be carried around by Mommy until that post-race fatigue wore off. Last year he was a little boy running. This year he was an experienced runner, coming to claim his place as the seven-and-under champion.


This was supposed to be about some random thoughts. So....

First of all, it's great to run a race with an age group for the younger kids.

What a race course! It winds around a gracefully rolling hill loop. Hilly enough to be interesting without being tough. Gently up, gently down. At about the halfway point, you hit the height-of-land, and you know that it will be a net downhill for the next 1.5 miles. There's a lot of "whew" in that.

Last year T was the only runner with brown skin. This year he was one of four. He single-handedly integrated a race on predominately white Cape Cod. That's my boy! We hope to see even more diversity next year, although if another Ethiopian child shows up, T better watch out!

We chatted at length with the winner of the men's 70 - 79 age group -- the winner of the youngest age group chatting with the winner of the oldest age group. Turns out Mr. Riley ran in our neck of the woods last fall, for the men's master's national 5km road championship -- where he also won his age group, "in that horrible downpour," as he put it. So this was the second time he and T ran in the same race. Strike up "It's a Small World." (Sorry for the intractable ear worm!) T still has to shave about six minutes off his time to be competitive with Mr. Riley, but in the bigger picture, hopefully he is still also running and competing when he is 76. Seventy years between them. That's something.

Free all you can eat real food post-race. Not your usual bananas and bagels, but pizza and pasta. Wow. Kudos to Ember for putting that on. And mmm, beer. Post-race carbo-loading.

It was humbling to be a half mile out from the finish and realize my six-year-old was probably already done. And great to hear him yelling, "Go Mommy!" as I gimped toward the finish chute. It made me smile even though I look pathetic in my finish line photo. My knees and hips have not been kind to me of late. Even still, I managed a post-50 PR, besting my time from last year by -- funny, I know his times off the top of my head and have to look mine up -- a minute and 42 seconds. If only I could have been 10 minutes faster too...*sigh.*

 This race is becoming so popular that next year there will be chip timing. We are hoping we are all healthy and able to run again next year. I've run a lot of  races on a lot of courses over the years, and I have to say, this is just absolutely one of my favorites. And T has one more year in the seven and under age group!

Finally, I wish his family in Ethiopia could watch him run. His original last name means "fast" and he is sure living up to it. I just wish they could see him.