B2B: The Way Racing Shouldn't Be

I've got a race report somewhere up my sleeve, and if I have some free time tomorrow (ha!) I'll be sure to roll up those sleeves up and let that sucker loose, but for now the Cliff's Notes version of this past weekend's Beach 2 Beacon 10K will have to suffice.

(Editor's note: After reviewing the content, the Cliff's Note's version will indeed suffice - permanently.)

Mile 1: Mario got out in about 5 minutes flat, hanging off the back of the women's lead pack and not feeling very comfortable with 5.2 miles of racing still left to go. He turns to former teammate Jeff Caron and says, "This is definitely faster than 33-minute pace."

Mile 2: The course started rolling a bit and Mario's pace slows down to a 5:22. The women's lead pack, which also included local studs Justin Lutz, David Bedoya and a few other hangers-on, pulled away and opened up a little bit of a gap.

Mile 2-1/2: Accepting the fact he was running like a huge pussy and didn't want to suffer any more, Mario backs off his effort a bit, waits for Rebecca Donaghue and Artie Gilkes to catch up (they weren't far behind to begin with), and proceeds to dangle himself like a carrot in front of his teammate, who would later finish as the top American woman in the race.

Mile 3: The net downhill carries Mario to a 5:18 third mile and a 16:18 split at 5K. JC has pulled away and Rebecca is rolling right along like she's out for a Saturday morning stroll. Colin Ingram, Mario's Mizuno rep and all-around good guy, pulls up along side our hurtin' hero with the clashing kit and engages him in the following exchange...

Colin: Let's go, Mario.
Mario: I'm in...the hurt box...dude.
Colin: I'm...way...over my head...too.

Mile 4: What goes down must come up, or something like that. In this case, that something was the pace, which shot up to 5:27 for no good reason. Actually, there was nothing good about this mile, or memorable anyway, so we'll leave it at that.

Mile 5: The clock read 26:35, but the big banner announcing the 5-mile mark about 150 meters before the actual 5-mile mark was enough of a tease that the split didn't mean shit when Mario finally reached the clock. His race well over, Rebecca's was just beginning as he and Artie kept close tabs on the fading Kenyan woman a few yards up ahead.

Mile 6: Resigned to his self-appointed role as domestique, Mario led Rebecca's charge into Fort Williams Park and quickly got the hell out of the way as the Pink Panther went on the prowl. By the 6-mile mark our new hero had boxed up one foreign delicacy and was ready to pick herself off another one, but simply ran out of real estate despite a sub 60-second clocking for her last 2/10 of a mile.

Synopsis: Mario ran a ball-less race. He needs to get his head on straight and his ass in gear.