My second 5K!

So, this morning I ran in my second 5K, almost exactly 5 months after the first (which I wrote about here). Several things were different. It was about 50 degrees warmer, for one thing, and I wasn't on antibiotics for Lyme, for another. I remember the main concern in December was staying warm enough before the race and hoping to be done before it started snowing. Not an issue today.

The race was Derrill's Race, a local fixture in honor of an Easthampton police officer who died of leukemia in 2004, and most of the race was on the Easthampton bike path, otherwise known as the Manhan Rail Trail, where I often run. The money raised always goes to local causes; last year, it paid for a good chunk of the local money needed for the sinkhole repair. (See Sunk.)

In the years since I moved here, I've known the race was happening--although the race doesn't go on the section of the bike path closest to my house, I've often seen runners for whom 5K was just a warm up running on the road near my house, their race numbers flapping.

This year, I decided to join them. This race was smaller than the first one I ran, though there were still somewhere around 700 people participating. The walkers and runners all went on the same course, which meant that I was seeing people coming the other way for much of the second half of the race. There were definitely moments when I wished that I had also chosen to do it as a leisurely stroll, water bottle in hand.

But instead, I ran. My time was a bit faster than in the winter, though not as much as I would have liked. I blame the heat for that. The race started just after 10 a.m., and it was well into the 70s and sunny by then. Much of the course was in the sun, as well, which meant that cool moments were few. My goal, really, was to finish ahead of at least one of the firemen running in their overalls and boots. After I crossed the finish line, I saw one just ahead of me, but I also remember having passed at least one, so I consider the goal met. (If I was hot, in my shorts and tank top, I can only imagine how hot they were.)

By 10:40 a.m., I was done. Extremely sweaty, but done. I skipped the after party and the prizes and opted for home and a cool shower. I'm glad to have done another 5K and probably will keep at it, though it's unlikely I'll pick a mid-summer race. The best part, as a non-morning-exerciser, is getting to feel slightly virtuous for the rest of the day. It's not enough to make me want to exercise in the morning every day, but for today, I'm glad.

My First 5K!

The exciting news of the weekend is that I ran my first 5K yesterday. I've been thinking about doing one for awhile, but 5Ks have come and gone this fall without me running any of them. I think I was more determined about this one, partly because of being so irritated about having Lyme disease. So, I guess I ran this in the spirit of, "Take that, you blasted Lyme bacteria." Or something like that.

Basically, what I learned is that if you can run 3.1 miles outside on your own, there's no reason you can't run 3.1 miles among hundreds of other people doing the same thing. What I liked about this race is that it was huge (more than 4000 people, with 2500 or so walking and 1500 or so running) and not particularly intimidating. Yes, there were elite runners up in front who got to leave right when the gun went off (not actually a real gun, more of a "ready, set, go") rather than nearly 5 minutes later, but there were also old people and young people and babies tucked into strollers and people who looked rather stout to be runners and people in costumes--a polar bear and a penguin, as per the logo above, a tortoise who ran at the very, very end and a whole host of marshmallows, as befitting a run at which hot chocolate was served at the finish line.

I'd been a bit nervous ahead of time, given that I've been on Doxycycline for more than 2 weeks, and I'd been feeling a bit queasy in the few days before the race. There was also the fact that I never exercise in the morning, if I can possibly help it, and I don't particularly like the cold. (It was 30 degrees at the 10 a.m. race time.) I left my stuff at Alex's house and walked over, to avoid any parking insanity, and he'd insisted that I wear an extra fleece and my hat, but when I got there, there didn't seem to be anyplace to leave them. Thankfully, the nice folks at the Chameleons hair salon--all of whom were running or walking themselves--let me leave them there.

The only thing that surprised me was that there weren't more people I knew there. I ran into my friend Michael at the end and saw my friend Susan, who was volunteering, but that was about it. The one mean thing I thought about the course was that the only real hills were just after the 2 mile mark when the course cut across the Smith campus. I'd seen Susan before the race, and I saw her right before the second Smith hill, and though she was wearing hiking shoes, a down jacket and long underwear, she ran up the hill with me, which I thought was very nice of her.

I still don't know my exact time, since I left at least 4 minutes after the official start, but it was somewhere around 35-36 minutes, so just under 12 minute miles. No one, including me, would say that was at all fast, but for a person who didn't run for 20 years, I thought it was just fine. The even better number is that the run raised more than $90,000 for Safe Passage, which is a local domestic violence organization. (Update: The final results are in. My time was 35:13, 11:21 a mile. I'm pleased that it was closer to 11 minutes than 12 a mile, and I was right that I left a full 5 minutes after the gun.)

And afterward, after I'd collected my mug and chatted with Michael and drunk my hot chocolate (slightly burned, alas) and fetched my jacket and hat from Chameleons, I wandered back to Alex's via the new winter farmer's market (where I got some spinach) and Cornucopia (where I got some Sidehill Farm yogurt) and the Pleasant Street Video store, where I got some movies. I ran into Andy and showed off my race number (3239). And after tea with Alex and a few more errands, I came home and got to feel virtuous for the rest of the day, which is the advantage, I learned, to morning exercise, especially at 106% of your maximum heart rate. (Well, so said my trusty heart rate monitor which, I have to assume, was mistaken.)

And one more time, I have to give a shout out to Couch to 5K (which I first wrote about earlier this year here) because without being talked through an easy, systematic way to start running, I'm not sure I would have done it. And now here I am, one very slow 5K down, thinking about when I might run another.

Sunk

Earlier this week, as I came out of the local grocery store, I was accosted by two small boys holding out containers, which were lettered--in the appealing, lopsided printing of small children--"Fix the Sinkhole." Obediently, I emptied my pockets of change, and the boys ran off to bash into a shopping cart (or something along those lines). Coincidentally--or perhaps not--I'd also just received a flyer from the Friends of the Manhan Rail Trail asking for money to fix the sinkhole. And that very morning, the annual charity race, Derrill's Race, had been run, and a chunk of the money raised (over $11,000 in all) was going to help fix the sinkhole as well.

I live on a busy-ish street with no sidewalk, so I've always considered it a perk that behind the houses across the street is the Manhan Rail Trail, otherwise known as the Easthampton bike path, which runs for 4 1/2 miles from Route 5 to the Southampton border. Before I started running, I'd only used the bike path a couple of times, but now it's become a regular haunt.

Except that since last fall, a section of the path not far from my house has been closed due to the Great Washout of 2008, parts I and II.

In September, an old culvert below the trail collapsed, leaving a 20-foot sinkhole behind. But that was nothing compared to what happened a few months later, when the whole thing washed out in another storm, leaving a gaping ravine where the bike path had once been. Once all the leaves were gone, you could see it from the street, the path on either side of the hole ending abruptly, only air between.

As the months passed, the estimates for how much it would cost to fix it grew and grew. Originally, word was that it would cost somewhere around $50,000, but within a few weeks, that number multiplied until the number floating around (even before washout #2) was close to $400,000. By December, it was up to $450,000.

Given the economy, it was easy to think that the bike path could remain interrupted for years to come. Thankfully, that's not the case. It turned out to be a lucky thing that the washout also damaged a sewer outlet pipe, which would have to be repaired whether or not the bike path was on top of it. That meant that the town is eligible for a low-interest state loan to repair it, and in April, the town agreed to take out a 10-year environmental bond to pay for it all. It turns out, though, that paving and fencing the trail are not included in the bond, which explains the flurry of local fundraising to cover it.

I didn't run in the direction of the sinkhole that often anyway--it's a shorter route because it ends at Route 5, and it gets loud as you approach the Route 91 overpass, where there's a loud, messy and seemingly endless construction project going on. But there are lovely views of the river that way. I took this in the morning, but imagine it at sunset, and it's much prettier.


The Amherst bike path, where I also occasionally run, is prettier overall--there are woods and fields and beaver ponds and the occasional very scenic house--but I kind of like the grittiness of the Easthampton path. I like it that my landmarks, as I'm puffing along, include the school for juvenile delinquents (which has a much nicer official name), the huge pile of gravel and several abandoned mill buildings as well as a couple that have been renovated.

One thing I discovered on my brief visit to the sinkhole this morning is that the hole is not stopping some intrepid runners (though I think it might stop even the most intrepid biker or roller blader). I saw a guy approaching from the Route 5 side and wondered if he'd stop and turn around:

The answer was no. He picked his way down one side and up the other side, hopping over the trickling water, and kept running:


In other bike path news, we also learned this week that federal stimulus money is going to help pay for several new miles of bike path that will connect the Easthampton bike path and the Northampton bike path. This is very exciting news--for me, at least--because, once it's done, it will mean that I'll be able to ride my bike to the community garden almost entirely on the bike path. It's not that it's that far--maybe 3 or 4 miles--but currently, you either have to go on very, very bumpy and sometimes washed out dirt roads or on Route 10, part of which is a 50 mph zone. Neither option is appealing. But once the bike path extension is done, I'll have no excuse.