Dam Race (5/31/08)

We left my baby bro's house in Davenport early Friday afternoon and headed for race packet pick-up in downtown Des Moines, near Nollen Plaza and a dam, which was only visible on my map. Alas, my name was not on the list of runners! Even though I had sent both my registration and my running partner's registration in the same envelope, his had arrived and mine had not. After some fast talking and re-registration, I was put on the list. Because this was a seeded race, however, the Friday registration put me at the back of the pack -- race rules stated that only pre-registered runners could start according to predicted running times.
Sister Annie and her family housed me and my real time running buddy. She treated me to no bake cookies (one of my favorites!) made with soy milk. She and her husband found a glutin free pizza; so I was even able to have a traditional pre-race supper.
Annie, Dennie, Butch and I took a long walk through a nearby park and toured the outdoor rooms of someone she knew along the walkway. And then about 9 p.m. it was bedtime. Though my surroundings were awesome (I had my niece's room since she was away at college), I didn't sleep. But then I usually don't sleep much before a race.
At 4:45 a.m. on Saturday my alarm went off. Already dressed in my running clothes, I sneaked downstairs and put some instant oatmeal and soy milk in a cup, and nuked myself some breakfast. I could hear my running buddy downstairs; so I knew then that he'd gotten up, too.
We left promptly at 5:15 a.m., and found a parking spot. From there we hopped on a shuttle to the race start near Saylorville Dam where we joined about 4,000 other 20K runners (12.4 miles) in a dense pack snaking along a two-lane road as far as I could see. Though against the rules, Butch and I crossed our arms in front of our bib numbers and inched our way as far to the front as we dared.
Even so it was three minutes and 45 seconds after I heard, "Go," before I finally reached the start. And then I tried to settle into a pace. The crowd was so thick I could barely jog. I saw someone take the shoulder, and followed suit. I'd hop back up on the road when I heard someone gaining on me, and hopped back off and passed some more runners when the shoulder cleared. Frustration reigned when, eleven minutes later, I crossed mile one.
I tried the other side of the road about mile two and found a virtually unoccupied shoulder. And there I picked up the pace and started passing runners. Eventually I found an open spot and could ran unimpeded for a while. The bands were great -- rock, classic rock, jazz, you name it. I ran through the spray of a garden hose provided by a kid, and the sprinkler aimed at the road that someone else had provided. It wasn't horrifically hot -- somewhere in the 70s, I think; but warm enough that the water sure felt good. There was water every other mile, and I took advantage of every chance to gulp some more water.
At 1:58:13 I crossed the finish line, a 9:34 pace, which was slower than my Charlottesville Half. Though flat races are supposed to be faster, obviously this one was not. But I did have to make up close to two minutes lost by the very slow start, so I'm thinking that my last 10 miles must have been several seconds faster than Charlottesville's 9:21 pace. And that makes me feel much better.
Lessons learned from this race: flat races probably ARE a bit faster, but races with large crowds are frustratingly slow unless you get started far enough to the front. The bottoms of my feet hurt a lot more after this race than they did after Charlottesville, but my calves hurt a lot less. I think the bands and spectators along the way prevented the immense monotony that I thought I'd experience on the flat. My legs were really feeling heavy though at the half-way point, more so than I remembered on the hilly Charlottesville course.
When I mentioned my observations to Butch he said, "You think too much. . .just do it. Just put one foot in front of the other." I think he's right.
And he did exactly that even though a pulled muscle at mile four caused him to launch from his left leg and limp on the right for the duration of the race. He said he nearly quit, but then thought about the 16.5-hour drive just to get there and the registration fee. And he determined to finish. And so, though the first four miles were around a 9-minute-mile pace, he finished with an agonizing slow time of 2:30. He, too, was disappointed, but amazed he'd been able to overcome the injury.
My sister and her husband were at the finish line, but an onlooker pushed in front of her and then launched his kid onto his shoulders for a better view of the finish -- blocking her view apparently just as I crossed the finish line. So she was disappointed, too; she had awakened early just to see me cross. And then didn't.
But I have a finisher's medal to add to my collection of running medals, the only Iowa medal hanging amongst a handful of Virignia ones.
I'm still glad I did this though I probably wouldn't do it again. In the future I'll race or I'll see family, but I won't try to do both during the same week. And I'll avoid the super-sized races, as I prefer smaller races where I can run my own race.

Final Stats (from Dam to Dam web site):
2577 out of 4813 total runners (53.3%)
35 out of 104 females 50-54 (33.7%)
871 out of 2233 females overall (39%)