Race Report: New Bedford 1/2 Marathon

I went back and forth as to whether or not to call this entry a "race" report, but the fact that I filled out an application, forked over 35 bucks, put on my singlet and my name shows up in the results means I ran in a race yesterday, even if it wasn't the balls-to-the-wall, bust-a-nut, all-out effort I would have liked to put forth.

After almost 3 weeks consisting of four zeros in the log, a half dozen ART appointments, a few half-assed attempts at cross training and only one run in the double-digits, I figured it probably wouldn't be a wise move to butt heads with the dozen or studs positioned at the front of the starting line. In an effort to make sure I didn't foolishly change my mind at the last minute, I planted my ass four rows back of where I'd normally set up shop, took three seconds longer than usual to cross the starting line and proceeded to watch a couple hundred people who pretended to know what they were doing zig-zag all over the road like a bunch of wandering idiots in front of me. Man, what an odd feeling. I didn't like it, not one bit.

Luckily, I had my good buddy Bergs, Christy Mae and Uncle Fire to keep me company for the first 3 miles, which was reached in a dead-on nuts 18:01 - right on schedule. After that, I took aim at anyone wearing a Fuel Belt in front of me and worked on rolling along the rest of the way at a steady clip somewhere in the range of 5:30-5:40 per mile. Some splits were faster than that, others a bit slower, but the last 10.1 miles averaged 5:38 per, so aside from seeing a 1:15:03 result next to my name after all was said and done, I'm happy with the end result. Plus, I apparently out-kicked Grafton High cross country and track coach Peter Gleason, who I noticed was rockin' a pair of black Brooks Adrenaline we don't stock at my store. Maybe that will teach him! (Editor's note: We actually probably special ordered the aforementioned shoes for Pete, but by out-kicking him I secured bragging rights next time he visits the store.)

As for my troublesome tib, well, as they say, that's a whole 'nother story. Definitely nothing worth bragging about there, the thing flat-out sucks. It didn't really bother me during the race at all but tightened up quite a bit afterward and even more so as the day progressed. I went grocery shopping last night and the whole area - tib and soleus - hurt like hell pushing the cart around the store. This morning wasn't as bad, but it wasn't good either, so I decided to play it safe and just spin my wheels on the bike after my ART treatment this afternoon. Right now it's 10:50 PM and everything is feeling a lot better, so the plan is to ride the bike again tomorrow morning and follow that up with an easy run around Westboro after work if my hoof is feeling healthy. I'm sick of this day-to-day shit.