H2C 2006--The Official Summary

Here's the condensed version of H2C 2006; see my races blog for the gritty dirt on the actual runnin' and racin' (although I won't finish this for a while, so be patient).

My team turned out to be a good group of guys to hang with for the weekend--oh, and to run a 197-mile race with. I believe all of the guys were lawyers, most of them in their mid-late 30's. So I was the baby on the team.

I was scared about running the race, because I hadn't trained at all and, frankly, my 8-10 mile runs with Edward on Saturday mornings (which I have missed from time-to-time this summer), didn't give me much of a foundation. I ran about 4-5 miles each day of the week leading up to the race, but these runs served more to help me to remember to focus while I ran (I'm usually the tour guide for Edward, always looking out for stuff to show him), as well as to get my body somewhat acclimated to running again; they did nothing to help me physically run long and fast.

Team Gronk (named after an artist who had a piece on display at the guys' law school? they all studied together at NYU, I believe) was very happy to have me; they honestly thought they were going to have to double up on legs, so I don't think they cared at all that I was only average for the team (and not necessarily the ringer I sold myself as (meaning, I probably had the fastest marathon time in the bunch)--although I was honest and upfront with the fact that I wasn't in the best shape, relative for me). Because when we reached the beach in Seaside, we were all struggling to walk without much pain or soreness. It was funny to watch some of the party goers dancing on the beach to the live band; they obviously didn't run very hard (but isn't that the point? I mean, anyone can come to the party).

The effort to complete each leg increased seemingly 10-fold as the race progressed. My first leg of four miles, all downhill, at 6:48/mile pace was a cake-walk--and it was nice and cool in the late evening. My next leg was a brutal 7.4 miles (longest leg on the course, according to GoogleMaps), along HWY 30 between Portland and Scappose, at 4:30 a.m. I finished at 7:46/mile pace, but my legs were drained when I crossed the exchange point. My last leg, though only 5.9 miles, proved to be the toughest. It was during the mid-afternoon (2:30 p.m.), and temperatures were hovering in the mid-80s, but I was completely hydrated (by the end of the day I was so sick of drinking water and sports drinks), so I can't excuse anything other than my complete lack of training for running an unbelievably slow 8:20/mile pace--I mean, I honestly felt like I could not run any slower without walking (and I've never had to walk at any time during a race in my career). When I finally staggered through the finish line, my body was completely covered in sweat, and my legs burned like they haven't since I ran my last marathon. My last five miles really did feel like my marathon, but I knew it was different, because I couldn't even walk by myself after the marathon--Meg and my friend had to help me all the way to the car from the finish area. This time I was back to somewhat-normal within a couple of hours.

We ended up finishing 157th overall in 25:31 (nearly three hours faster than my Port team in 2004), and something like 32nd in our bracket (submasters men). I think I would like to run H2C again, so long as I can be on a relatively fast team that won't ask me to pay. Sure, it's a risk I won't find a team like this next year, but I'm not that motivated to run it every year. The only thing I'll do differently is to train at least a few months beforehand so I don't end up dead-in-the-water again--trust me, it sucks to be that tired and that sore with no hope of getting a second wind.

This adventure seemed so surreal--not quite like a dream, or a drug-induced trip (not that I can speak from experience, but I've read enough Romantic poets from the 18th and 19th centuries to have an inkling), but more like everything else in my life was somehow placed in suspended animation. The minute I entered into H2C mode seemed to transform me into a new lifeform. Thoughts of Meg and the boys and Cisco IP telephony didn't resonate in my consciousness until our van captain tossed me his cell phone and asked if I wanted to call my family. It wasn't like, "I have a family?" but more like "I have a family." But the trance didn't really dissolve until I woke up to a crying Edward on Sunday morning . . . don't ask me how I drove home 50 miles in the dark and not having slept in nearly 48 hours?

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