Bonus Race of the Grand Pricks Series, #6
One Down, One to Go.
This is a bonus race installment in the twenty one race series. Most running mags who report on these races center around who won and quick times. This blog revolves around the seamy underbelly in each race; the also-rans: the has-beens: the crippled: the infirm: the insane.
These are my people. Read on.
The Demar Marathon weekend started with a trip to Lake Winnipesaukee to check out the Fred Brown Relay. The Colonial Road Runners (CRR) had three teams and this is the first year in five I wasn’t part of one.
Jim DuPont asked me to run a leg but with the DeMar the next day I was not taking any chances.
Despite training well for the Boston marathon this year, I had a personal worst marathon. I really wanted to have a better marathon experience and running in the relay didn’t fit in the plan.
So I wanted to show my support at the very least. The day was cloudy and overcast with periods of rain. Not ideal running weather. For as long as I can remember, the weather was perfect for the relay.
As I made my way north through the rain I was kinda glad I didn’t commit to running this day. I angled over to Meredith, New Hampshire around 2 pm and was hoping to see the front-runners. The first one I saw into leg 7 was a Somerville Road Runner alone blazing away. This I got to see. Then the second place, third and fourth place flew by.
Amazing stuff. Now I had my regrets. This relay is what running is all about, the whole team spirit thing going on. I missed it.
Pulling into the relay point for leg six/seven I realized that at this hour this is where the action is. I spy St. Mary of DuPont and she says Jim is running leg six and is due shortly. Mary lets on that Jim is running for the Marshfield Road Runners. He is the one that organized the three CRR teams!
What’s up with that! Traitor! No, really it’s all good.
I hang around long enough to see Jim come in and take in the atmosphere. I really miss the action. Jim says the CRR team (The Good, The Bad, The Dupey) still needs someone to run leg 8. Oh, how tempting! I almost said yes.
Looking at my watch, I see it’s after 3pm. I sneak off as Jim changes and make my way to the finish to see how Jeff Gould finished. Jeff’s big into organizing this race for the North Medford Club and running the last leg for his team, then running the marathon the next day. This I gotta see. I pull in and watch the runners cross the finish line. I spy Jeff, who just finished and shake his hand. Jeff tells me Peter Brook also ran a leg for the SRR Team. Jeff and Pete are true RATs.
I sneak out of there around 4pm and drive off to Keene, over an hour away for the pre-race pasta dinner. Pulling into Keene I remember from the last two times I ran this marathon and find a place to park and make my way the Zorn Dining Commons. I throw myself at the mercy of a cute co-ed and tell her I’m here to check in for the marathon. She points me to the registration table and I secure my number, t-shirt and meal ticket. The Dining Hall looks like something like a food court in a mall. Six or seven different counters serving food from vegetarian to desert.
I see Gail and Dave Martin, Mike Tammaro, Brenda Melone, Charley Farrington. We sit together and yap up the series, listen to the speakers, race organizers and chow down to some top shelf feed. Very, very good food.
I marvel at the “Fifty Staters”, folks who run a marathon in every state. They’re out in force for this one, with their t-shirt from every marathon outfits.
After the second desert we break up and go our own way. For me, that means finding a dark quiet location to park my truck, cause that’s where I’m sleeping. I park in a lot across the street from dorm land and settle in for a nights sleep. Little did I realize that this parking lot was a cut through to off campus housing and where the parties were happening this Friday night. So all I heard ALL NIGHT were revelers coming and going to the parties.
Morning comes way too early and I notice it’s already 64 degrees and a cloudy sky. I brought literally every piece of running clothing I own in anticipation of any weather. Today I choose to wear my Hockomock.net singlet, shorts and a generous slathering of Vaseline with my 40-ounce Camelbak waist belt to carry a camera and Jelly beans.
A quick stop at Drunkin-Blownuts for the pre-race bagel w/ cream cheese and coffee. Hey, what ever gets you to the finish. This happens to my pre-marathon elixir, that and a big banana. I’m not alone, I’m inline at that hour with a dozen other runners. I go back park in my “lucky” parking spot – same as two previous runs at this race. I meet up with Nancy and Peter Orni along with Ray Boutotte and his wife for an early morning photo-op. Pete offers me a seat in his car for a ride to the start line in Gilsum. You see, Nancy rides along the route. Now that’s race support!
I circle the village of Gilsum taking RAT attendance for this Bonus Race: Mike Ferrari, Dan Ravenelle, Don Burke, Jeff Gould, Dave Tyler, an injured Pete Brook, Manny Arruda, Ron Trippet, Jim Boss, Judy Ramvos, and Steve Lombardo to name the RATs in the main competition for the “BAYKO “
Rick Jones would be here but he sprained his ankle badly.
Our prayers are with Rick for his healthy return to the series.
I take my position squarely at the back of the 312 + runners. My designated 10 minute pace will put me across the finish line well after the majority of runners.
The temp is now in the low seventies, overcast w/ rain laden clouds, with a slight threat of rain.
My mindset it to count down remaining miles and for me the race doesn’t start till halfway. So miles 1 thru 13 were a test to hold back and maintain a relaxed pace. It doesn’t hurt that this race is all downhill.
My competition today is the “Fifty Staters”. I don’t know why, but the fifty state thing does nothing for me, traveling around the country doing marathons. Slogging along in different states with other goombas for 26 miles doesn’t light any fires for me.
So I put up with their inane prattle.
One common thread these people do have is rumor of a series of races where you run two marathons, run nude and I have to admit I’m one of them. Once they see the BUTT PATCH, the questions pour forth.
Now, if we’re talking riding motorcycles thru fifty states, that’s different. Cue Steppenwolf: “Get your motor runnin’, Head out on the highway, lookin’ for adventure, whatever comes our way”.
The first half of the race is in rural New Hampshire (aka: Cow Hamster) along a two-lane road next to a picturesque stream, pure New England and this marathon is the very definition of a New England Marathon.
Forget that big fiasco in Boston.
The pace is dead on and I’m past 18 miles at 3 hours. My latest trick is to simply walk for one minute at each water stop. At this point the race has been over for twenty-five minutes.
At 18 miles is when things get serious, the mental struggle really takes shape, you start making deals with yourself to get across the finish line. This is when you see others around you either start walking it in or drop out completely. You can feel the suffering around you.
Since the halfway point the scenery turns semi rural with suburban housing dotting the landscape. The course was changed this year to keep the marathon course off main roads. So we twist and turn through these housing developments and into a state park near mile 19. Out of the park on onto side streets in Keene, the course really is nice, I approve of the course change. There used to be a Big hill at 18 now the hill comes later at 22. Now that’s mean, harder too. This is where, like the TV show Survivor, you need to strike alliances with other runners to keep the momentum, and the will to finish strong, alive. It is teamwork at this point to get through miles 22, 23, and 24. For me, my mantra was: “its only three more miles and I don’t have to run again for a week”, (then only two more miles, then one more). I repeat this over and over, out loud even.
At 25 it’s back to an individual effort and you gotta beat the runner ahead of you. After 26 miles, It’s simply not acceptable to be passed at this point. There was a big crowd along the last 263 yards and their cheers really made a difference.
The temperature was perfect for the Demar. Everything fell into place. I ran this 10 minutes faster than three years ago (the deluge) and the same time as six years ago (chasing down the RAT).