The Belmont 5 race review
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| Back in my day 5k's were ALWAYS 3.2 miles! And it was always hot, and uphill, with snow! |
A few minutes later I set out to warm up with the best of intentions, excited in the way only day dreams of women falling all over you to congratulate your new race time can make you. After only a slow quarter mile in I noted that my breathing was erratic and shallow and my heart was beating like I had threatened it with a post race triple baconator cheese burger. Somewhere in the depths of my foggy slightly-hungover brain I realized that I was letting the pre race nerves get to me. Unfortunately, the realization of such did nothing to prevent them from continuing. What followed during the race then was an extra long course, (3.2 miles rather than 3.1) a heat wave that kicked in a mile into the race, and an absolutely miserable small time blogger spewing profanities at whoever thought creating a 5k course as a race distance was a good idea.
Coming around the final bend in 4th place I watched the clock countdown past the goal time I had set for myself and gave up the race. Shaking my head with disappointment and anger, I walked / jogged in across the finish line, soured by the heat, the course and my own performance.
I did, however, walk away with a few lessons learned.
1) Stop racing in the heat. It's just not worth the time or money.
2) A victory, no matter how small, should never be discounted. (I took first in age.)
3) I need to race more to get all these pre race jitters out.
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| Crossing the finish line |
Annnnnnd that brings us me to the Belmont 5, a five mile race hosted on a local-ish golf course. I registered months ago for all intents and purposes for the same reason my coach had me run the 5k. I wanted a race close enough to Medoc to give me an idea of where I stood, but far enough out to let me change what needed to be changed. (Hopefully)
I rolled out with Jenny to yet another race, the thought that she would probably be right on my heels the entire race would be a good motivator to start strong and stay there. On the flip side of the coin, I also wanted to be cautious and not blow out the first two miles, only to crash halfway through the race.
With all these thoughts swirling through my head, we set off on our pre race warm up. Like last race, I felt the knot in my lungs that was completely being caused by the stress created in my head. We made our loop from the parking lot, down to the highway and around the small pond and fountain that adorned the lake entrance and back. Not seeing much more available real estate to run on, we did the loop again, noting that we would have a short uphill climb at the starting line for a warm up total of a mile and a half. I wanted a little more, but decided to check out the competition as I walked around and met up with other running friends, and jumped in the pre race bathroom line one last time.
Rejoining friends a few minutes later, we discussed goal times and paces while walking down to where we assumed the start line was. Jenny noted that a familiar short haired blond who has consistently beaten her on the 5k courses back home had registered that morning and lined up in front of her. I meanwhile was trying to "casually" check out the numbers on other runners bibs, as we had been seeded in a prediction of winning order. I got a few strange looks from some of the other runners, (both men and women) and I tried to brush it off with a shaky smile and wave. (I do the same thing with accidental eye contact in public restrooms.)
Before I was ready for it the race director, one Micheal Forrester, (yes-- that guy again) was announcing that we would be starting the ten second countdown. As he raised the mega phone to his face it seemed to amplify not only his voice, but that of the hundreds of people around me. 10...9...8... their voices boomed in my ears and I stopped counting, hoping to alleviate the waves of pressure and tension I felt beginning to roll over me. 5...4...3... I look to my right to see Jenny primed to take off, her right index finger lodged on the start button of her garmin; the short haired blond standing just ahead of her, looking more relaxed, but no less dangerous with the sun reflecting off of her blue earbuds. I sucked in one last breath, refusing to even take a stance as my world stood still momentarily. 2...1...
I don't even hear the gun go off. I see everyone moving and suddenly gain focus as I my feet gain traction. We all seem to be in slow motion, but a quick look at my garmin tells me we are running a sub 6 minute mile. I refocus on the front of the pack to see they are already pulling up and away from us as we hit the first hills of the course. I remind myself to try and run "my own race," as we hit the first mile marker and another runner brings himself up on my left to pass me. And then another. And as another swoops in behind me the four of us begin to draft off each other as we zoom up and down the hill and around corners.
In terms of the course I really enjoyed being able to see the elites ahead of us and not feeling like we weren't too far removed from them. For at least the first half of the race, we would lose the around a tree covered corner and then as we would round it ourselves, we would get another glimpse. As we hit the two mile mark I knew I wanted to try to be competitive so I pulled ahead of the runner who I was "drafting" behind and set my mind to trying to catch the one in front of him. Apparently he had the same idea as he began to pull away from me. Almost another half mile went by and he had produced a bit of a lead on me, while someone else had managed to sneak up on me.
I heard the footsteps and breathing before I saw the bright orange singlet of a teenager I had noticed before the race. I remember overhearing him speaking to his father while I was casually straining my ears and concealing myself behind a tree, that around the halfway point of the race he was going to try to drop into his 5k pace. Sure enough he smiled at me as he passed, and I was determined not to be taken down by a teenager. He maintained a lead of a few feet for around a quarter of a mile or so, before fading back down a bit at which point I chose to surge.
By this point in the race, I had lost sight of the lead pack, but maintained an eye of the runner who had passed me earlier. At one point he missed a turn up a hill and I used the opportunity to close and pass him. Sensing my shenanigans, he caught up quickly passed me and would widen the gap between us until he crossed the finish line. Catching my garmin at mile 4 and knowing that I wasn't going to catch the runner ahead of me, I took a look back behind me at the corner we had just rounded. The teenager is the singlet was no where to be seen. But I had established a goal race time in my head by this point in the game, and didn't want to give too much for fear that I would lose it.
For whatever reason I something in my head urged me to look back at the field again, just to see if my position was holding. THAT was probably the most unpleasant moment of the race for me. When I looked back, the rest of the field had rounded the same corner and it looked like something akin to the hordes of Mordor barring down on me. Trying desperately to find a balance between kicking up a notch and running something I knew I could sustain for a mile. I tore desperately at the cobble stoned bridge under my feet as I ran over a lake and around another downward sloping corner where a kid on a bike came through and told me I was almost there and to just keep my head up. Nodding my head in thanks I pushed around the corner and up one last hill where I could see a strong crowd of people waiting- but no finish line. Where was the finish line?!?
As the shrubbery gave way around the bend the finish line became clear. At almost the same time a cheer went up from the large crowd of people who lined either side of the path I was running breakneck down. Noting that I knew none of them, I had assume that someone (probably the teenager) was hot on my heels. Throwing my legs and lungs into overdrive I drove forward one last time while waving my arms wildly in hopes of keeping anyone from passing me. I burst over the finish line in time for Michael Forrester to walk over and ask me how the race was, and politely indicate that if I was in fact, going to vomit, I should do it in the bushes and not on the manicured golf course.
I turned around less than a minute later to see Jenny cross the line at the same exact time as another women to be the first females across the line.And, while I was happy for my friend, my first thought wasn't all that generous. Instead I made a mental note that she was very, very close behind me at the finish line. Both of our races finished, we joined another teammate at the post race screen to check our standings. I had taken 8th overall, and 1st in age; not something I felt too bad about considering I was seeded as 7th going into the race.
As we waited for things to wind down we found another runner from our city and did a quick cool down before heading back up to the awards presentation.
Like almost every race that the Tar River Running Company puts on, this one used pint glasses with the race logo adorning them as awards for the winners. Personally, even though I've only had the privilege to earn two of them form these guys, I think they're great. Its a unique award that is never for sale and has to be earned. Plus, you get to put beer in it. So....there's that. This particular race's logo has a figure who looks like the bad guy of indeterminate age from every 80's movie. You know the one. He's the rich, popular, talented, jock teenager / 30 year old who takes offense at the new guy who has some talent but just wants to come have fun at the Ski competition / karate tournament / pool championship. Following the formula, this guy will eventually lose his girlfriend to the underdog new guy during the big fight / skateboard contest / wrestling match. (I'm guessing its all because it's held on a golf course, or the guy who designed the logo favorite expression was "Sweep the leg, Johnny!")
Regardless of design, the glass is pretty damn cool, and a fun way to recognize the winners. Wrapping it all up, The Belmont 5 is yet another fantastic race put on by the Tar River Running company. The course has hills and turns, but neither are so severe that they should deter anyone as this is a very fast course. The weather was perfect for us and the golf course staff and the local community couldn't have been more accommodating. Aside from a disturbing lack of post race burritos, the spread was great for the runners including fresh fruit, cookies, water, and even catering from Chic-fil-a.
If you find yourself available and looking for a fun race thats just a bit longer than a 5k, but not so much that anyone can't run it, this is the one for you.
As always, thanks for reading, or even just accidentally hitting the link with your elbow. Don't forget, you can find us on Facebook now too! More reviews and write ups coming soon, thanks for being so patient and for the best group of runners out there!
I rolled out with Jenny to yet another race, the thought that she would probably be right on my heels the entire race would be a good motivator to start strong and stay there. On the flip side of the coin, I also wanted to be cautious and not blow out the first two miles, only to crash halfway through the race.
With all these thoughts swirling through my head, we set off on our pre race warm up. Like last race, I felt the knot in my lungs that was completely being caused by the stress created in my head. We made our loop from the parking lot, down to the highway and around the small pond and fountain that adorned the lake entrance and back. Not seeing much more available real estate to run on, we did the loop again, noting that we would have a short uphill climb at the starting line for a warm up total of a mile and a half. I wanted a little more, but decided to check out the competition as I walked around and met up with other running friends, and jumped in the pre race bathroom line one last time.
 |
| I think we achieved the same amount of subtlety |
Before I was ready for it the race director, one Micheal Forrester, (yes-- that guy again) was announcing that we would be starting the ten second countdown. As he raised the mega phone to his face it seemed to amplify not only his voice, but that of the hundreds of people around me. 10...9...8... their voices boomed in my ears and I stopped counting, hoping to alleviate the waves of pressure and tension I felt beginning to roll over me. 5...4...3... I look to my right to see Jenny primed to take off, her right index finger lodged on the start button of her garmin; the short haired blond standing just ahead of her, looking more relaxed, but no less dangerous with the sun reflecting off of her blue earbuds. I sucked in one last breath, refusing to even take a stance as my world stood still momentarily. 2...1...
I don't even hear the gun go off. I see everyone moving and suddenly gain focus as I my feet gain traction. We all seem to be in slow motion, but a quick look at my garmin tells me we are running a sub 6 minute mile. I refocus on the front of the pack to see they are already pulling up and away from us as we hit the first hills of the course. I remind myself to try and run "my own race," as we hit the first mile marker and another runner brings himself up on my left to pass me. And then another. And as another swoops in behind me the four of us begin to draft off each other as we zoom up and down the hill and around corners.
 |
| Just like this, but with less spandex and only me in a helmet. |
I heard the footsteps and breathing before I saw the bright orange singlet of a teenager I had noticed before the race. I remember overhearing him speaking to his father while I was casually straining my ears and concealing myself behind a tree, that around the halfway point of the race he was going to try to drop into his 5k pace. Sure enough he smiled at me as he passed, and I was determined not to be taken down by a teenager. He maintained a lead of a few feet for around a quarter of a mile or so, before fading back down a bit at which point I chose to surge.
By this point in the race, I had lost sight of the lead pack, but maintained an eye of the runner who had passed me earlier. At one point he missed a turn up a hill and I used the opportunity to close and pass him. Sensing my shenanigans, he caught up quickly passed me and would widen the gap between us until he crossed the finish line. Catching my garmin at mile 4 and knowing that I wasn't going to catch the runner ahead of me, I took a look back behind me at the corner we had just rounded. The teenager is the singlet was no where to be seen. But I had established a goal race time in my head by this point in the game, and didn't want to give too much for fear that I would lose it.
For whatever reason I something in my head urged me to look back at the field again, just to see if my position was holding. THAT was probably the most unpleasant moment of the race for me. When I looked back, the rest of the field had rounded the same corner and it looked like something akin to the hordes of Mordor barring down on me. Trying desperately to find a balance between kicking up a notch and running something I knew I could sustain for a mile. I tore desperately at the cobble stoned bridge under my feet as I ran over a lake and around another downward sloping corner where a kid on a bike came through and told me I was almost there and to just keep my head up. Nodding my head in thanks I pushed around the corner and up one last hill where I could see a strong crowd of people waiting- but no finish line. Where was the finish line?!?
 |
| The director of the race watches events unfold from on high |
As the shrubbery gave way around the bend the finish line became clear. At almost the same time a cheer went up from the large crowd of people who lined either side of the path I was running breakneck down. Noting that I knew none of them, I had assume that someone (probably the teenager) was hot on my heels. Throwing my legs and lungs into overdrive I drove forward one last time while waving my arms wildly in hopes of keeping anyone from passing me. I burst over the finish line in time for Michael Forrester to walk over and ask me how the race was, and politely indicate that if I was in fact, going to vomit, I should do it in the bushes and not on the manicured golf course.
 |
| Hmmmmmm...surely no athlete has ever gotten caught for hiring someone to bash the knee of their competition... |
As we waited for things to wind down we found another runner from our city and did a quick cool down before heading back up to the awards presentation.
Like almost every race that the Tar River Running Company puts on, this one used pint glasses with the race logo adorning them as awards for the winners. Personally, even though I've only had the privilege to earn two of them form these guys, I think they're great. Its a unique award that is never for sale and has to be earned. Plus, you get to put beer in it. So....there's that. This particular race's logo has a figure who looks like the bad guy of indeterminate age from every 80's movie. You know the one. He's the rich, popular, talented, jock teenager / 30 year old who takes offense at the new guy who has some talent but just wants to come have fun at the Ski competition / karate tournament / pool championship. Following the formula, this guy will eventually lose his girlfriend to the underdog new guy during the big fight / skateboard contest / wrestling match. (I'm guessing its all because it's held on a golf course, or the guy who designed the logo favorite expression was "Sweep the leg, Johnny!")
 |
| He totally looks like his name would be "Chip," or "Johnny." |
Regardless of design, the glass is pretty damn cool, and a fun way to recognize the winners. Wrapping it all up, The Belmont 5 is yet another fantastic race put on by the Tar River Running company. The course has hills and turns, but neither are so severe that they should deter anyone as this is a very fast course. The weather was perfect for us and the golf course staff and the local community couldn't have been more accommodating. Aside from a disturbing lack of post race burritos, the spread was great for the runners including fresh fruit, cookies, water, and even catering from Chic-fil-a.
If you find yourself available and looking for a fun race thats just a bit longer than a 5k, but not so much that anyone can't run it, this is the one for you.
As always, thanks for reading, or even just accidentally hitting the link with your elbow. Don't forget, you can find us on Facebook now too! More reviews and write ups coming soon, thanks for being so patient and for the best group of runners out there!
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| Plus, it totally beats my "winner's colostomy bag" from the race |
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