Day dawned a bright, dry 80 degrees. The staging area was at a nice picnic area at the base of South Mountain. I don’t' know what the f*ck I was thinking, but I was a bit surprised when I saw that the road, which was the course, wound its way up the damn mountain.

I made my way to the back to be with others who'd likely be about my pace. There were about 600 or so runners, and I let most of them pass before I started moving for the front. My chip beeped when I crossed the timing line; I was off.

I had a little trouble finding my pace running with the pack. The steady sound of feet set the beat and I tried to follow. Soon enough, the pack was strung out as the ascent began. I forgot to bring a personal timing device, so I let my wind be the judge of run and rest breaks. I was a little disappointed at how quickly I started to huff and puff, but then I haven't run uphill like I was today. Soon I found a pace and a small pack who were close to the same pace.

The elite runners had covered 2/3 of the course by the time my pack was completing the first 1/3. From then on it was a steady two-way stream of traffic until my pack finally made it up the mountain to the water station. We rounded the turn and headed back down much to everyone's relief. Ii was at this point, when started heading back down the course, that I started enjoying the vistas, the landscape, and the mountains. On the way up, I was fixated on the ascent focusing on not much more than the backsides of the group that was in front of me.

Going downhill was better from an effort standpoint but required enough control to keep from careening off into desert or into people in front of me. As we were running down the course, a few of the elites were going for a second lap and they yelled encouragement to us as we worked our way down the hill. Work being the operative word here; the elites are fine-tuned machines. My pack was working on guts and determination.

I came to the finish line as the clock turned 40:00. I know I didn't start at 0:00, so I don't know my exact time, but, to my surprise, I was close to my 12:00/mile pace because I felt like I was going much slower. I'll chalk my perception up to a good, difficult for me course, the excitement of running with other bodies, and the fact that my body just must like the 12:00/mile pace.

I really liked the experience. For me, the race was well organized, friendly, and another challenge met.

What's not to like?

Race Post-Mortem

Here's my official time.


38:58 for 5K makes for a 12:31/mile pace. Gotta start somewhere. I am proud of the opportunity. The value of grasping opportunity and rising from the bottom isn't safe in a time when big government wants to mandate outcomes. That has to be a bummer for those who run 2.5x faster than me. Poor bastards.