6/20: 5.0 miles; 46'56"; 9'24" avg. pace
I have heard two descriptions of doing the same activity over and over again and expecting different results. It is said to either be insanity or hope. When it comes to the CAMC Foundation's Run for Your Life 5-miler I still don't know which trait I'm exhibiting. This year I probably leaned slightly more toward insanity, because my training activity has been at an all-time low. That unforgiving climb up to Spring Hill Cemetery holds no sympathy for the faint of heart and weak of legs. Two days later, I am still paying the price for adherence to tradition and a determination to feel forever 23 years old (the first time I ran this race).
The race starts innocently enough on Court Street at Kanawha Boulevard. A flat mile ensued where I tried to keep my pace slow and steady and save any endurance I might have for the hill. I had some quarters in my pocket to pay the parking meter and set them down on the median before leaving Court St.; you're welcome, drifters of Charleston. Too soon, I found myself glaring at the incline of Farnsworth Drive that ascends over the interstate in a spiraling fashion.
Then, the run really began. I tried to stay loose and keep a jogging pace, however slow it may have been, in order to climb the entire hill without walking. I looked at my run tracker at the bottom of the hill to give me an indication of how far I was from the top. If memory served, the entire climb was close to one mile. As I left the interstate behind and began the slog pass tree shaded houses, my heart rate elevated and my breathing became labored. I wondered if the surrounding runners were having the same difficulty getting oxygen. Even with these struggles, I ran at a pace that did not actively make my legs feel sore. Nearing the cemetery gates, I made sure to continue a slow pace because the hill continues well into the grave yard. I was sucking wind very hard, but knew I could at least summit the beast before being reduced to walking.
After cresting the hill I remembered how rolling the cemetery grounds were and started to cry a little inside. I felt a little spacey and knew that heat exhaustion was a serious threat. I managed to keep the pace low and trot over the short, steep hills inside the cemetery. They took a toll and I could feel any last reserve of energy being drained from my body. There is a final ascent inside the cemetery ground before leaving, one last kick in the pants for runners. Having made that mark without walking, I was safe to fall off the face of the mountain, down towards Charleston to the beat of bongo drums being played by some curious musicians at the top of the hill.
The descent off of Farnsworth feels good except that my legs were so tired and devoid of energy that I couldn't even run fast downhill. "Controlled falling" is a more accurate description of what happened. Still, that mile coming downhill was my fastest split time at slightly over eight minutes.
You would think at this point that I could finish the whole race running or jogging. But that last mile on the flat ground back to the Boulevard was terrible. I had no feeling in my legs. My breathing was labored and I felt like I could either pass out or throw up at some point in the future. I trotted on as long as I could, down Piedmont and toward Court Street. Before I made the turn onto Court, I finally gave in and started to walk. My pride wasn't worth succumbing to heat exhaustion. I walked the majority of Court Street. I passed the mall and came within view of the Boulevard and mustered some guts for the finish. Around Quarrier Street I picked up the pace again and made it to the Boulevard, stopping before realizing that I had to continue down into Haddad Park to finish properly. I jogged the remaining downhill bit and crossed the line.
After grabbing a finishers medal I bent over and tried to regain my senses. Then, I took a water and an apple and downed both in hopes of regaining energy. Ashley and Jessica finished a few minutes later and joined me on the pain train. We all swore off the race (which I have done before) while recounting our respective struggles. Next year I may be donating to colon cancer research and staying at home.
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