Racing, for the Uninitiated

Up until April 2, 2011, which was only 3 weeks ago from the date of this post, I had never in my life ran in any sort of race of any kind, whatsoever.  After running for several months on my own, I had only recently begun toying with the idea of participating in a road race.  I had been running up to 6 miles fairly consistently, at what I thought was a pretty decent clip for a fat guy.  My best time was 6 miles in 56 minutes on my own.  So I started looking for races around town.  For some reason, the 5K distance just didn’t excite me…I felt like, for my first race, it would be over too fast for me to even enjoy it.  Instead, I signed up for a 10K, with my lovely and dedicated (she’d have to be, fat as I was) bride signed up for concurrent 5K, which meant we could line up together and maybe run together for a bit before our courses diverged.  As it turns out, there are a lot of things you should know going in to your first race, especially if it is well attended.  First among them is pre-registering.  This was one we figured out on our own, and fortunately we registered online.  This was good for a couple of reasons.  One, we paid and there were no refunds, so there was no backing out.  Two, we didn’t have to worry that they would run out of bibs or spaces.  It also helps the race organizers plan appropriately for aid stations and refreshments at the finish line (we’ll get to these later). 

One thing we didn’t know about was the “packet.”  During pre-registration, of course, there was all kinds of information about race packet pickup, when and where we could do it, etc.  Problem was, we didn’t know what “packet pickup” meant.  Now, I know this sounds really stupid, but at the time, our line of thinking was “what could a race packet possibly consist of?”  I mean, generally, when I’m running, I have as little with me as possible.  I figured for races, you paid your money, maybe got a t-shirt, ran and went home.  As we learned, what the packet consists of, at least around where I live, is your ‘bib,’ which is the paper number you see runners wearing in races, and maybe your shirt if you got one.  Around Tallahassee, where I live, the bibs contain the timing chip.  In some races, you may have to attach the chip to your shoe, but our bibs have the chip attached to the back of it.  So this packet, while very important, is no big deal, right?  I mean, it’s not so big that it would warrant the need to pick it up early, right?  Wrong.  If you have looked around at any races in your area, you’ll likely see that most of them start early in the morning.  Which meant that, if you have other obligations (like kids) you have a very short timeframe within which to get to the race location, park, get your packet, put your bib on, use the restroom one last time (which I am finding out is very important), and get to the starting line.  When we arrived on the morning of our first race, we panicked because we saw so many people who looked like they had done this before, getting out of their cars already wearing their bibs.  We asked them where they got them and they told us they had picked them up before.  And we panicked even more,  because we asked if they had a registration

 table and they told us they didn’t know, suggesting we  weren’t going to get to run after all because we were too lazy to go pick up our stupid packets.  As it turns out, there was a table, as there always is, but the line was long and time was short.   So this was a long, drawn out way of saying that you should pick your packet up early if you can, so you can show up at the starting line ready to go without having to worry about silly things like bibs.  When the race started, I thought I had originally planned on running alongside my wife, but she could see I wanted to run, so she said “just go!” and off I went.  I was surprised at how much the adrenaline and the excitement of the race propelled me and gave me boosts along the way.  Also, running in such a huge pack allowed me to pace myself better, picking people to pace or pass.  As you approach the finish line, there is a clock, so you can see your gun time and and give you that last little push to fight for a few extra seconds.  I ended up finishing my first 10K, which is 6.2 miles, in 55:23, which was my personal record.  When I got to the finish line, my lovely wonderful wife was already there waiting (having run the 5K), and I can tell you there was no better sight in the world than seeing her proud face when she saw me coming.  At the end of the race, there were tables set up with food and refreshments (lots of carbs to  replace what you lost: bagels, juice, water, etc.), and everyone there was extremely friendly and happy, which makes sense if you think about it, because this was probably the single largest gathering of

endorphins in town.  So I made my way to the water table, where I heard the single greatest

sentence I believe has ever been uttered (outside of the Bible):  “We’re out of water. Is beer okay?”  I mean, are you kidding me?  When is beer NOT okay?  I mean besides when you are driving or are at work or, well I’m sure there are a few other occasions when it wouldn’t be appropriate, but really, how awesome is beer?  Now don’t get me wrong, I am not a big drinker.  I may normally  drink  about 12 alcoholic beverages of any kind in a year.  I just choose to spend my money on other things.  But nonetheless, ice cold beer is very refreshing, and I now know that it is insanely refreshing after running your heart out for 6.2 miles.  I had no idea going into this race that there would be such a big to do at the end.  I just thought you’d run, get your time and go home.  But these races are so much more than that.  They’re a celebration of running, people who share your enthusiasm for the sport or who are trying to jumpstart their weight loss, or who are trying to accomplish a personal goal.  But they’re all happy.  Which makes the races fun.  And which is why I am now addicted to racing, and have found one more reason to love running.