There was a movie with Matthew Broderick in which he was complaining about the heat. “This is Africa hot. Tarzan couldn’t stand this kind of hot.”
I don’t remember the movie, but I remember the line. And I felt that exaggerated pain on Sunday as I ran 15K through the streets of Buffalo at Run 716.
It was my first time doing this race and my second 15K of the summer. It was also my second 15K of the summer where I had not trained for the race. In fact, I had the dates wrong in my head. I thought I had a week to prepare. I thought this weekend I would be able to do a 5-mile run to get some preparation in. Ok, maybe just 4 miles. OK, maybe I wouldn’t have done any more miles. I’ve been spending more time on my bike this summer and running shorter distances.
Maybe I should not have entered the Run 716 15K with the weather forecast for heat and humidity that makes us northerners cry (with the exception of my grandmother who had the most unusual taste for heat and humidity that I have ever come across) combined with my lack of training. But there was a cool medal involved. And, tragic but true, I will do nearly any race event for a cool medal. It’s a material vanity, I know. And in reality my race medals serve an important place in my life, reminding me of some of the great stories of my particular adventure called life. My friend Sue used to say she wanted to be able to sit on her rocking chair when she was old and have great stories to tell. These medals are the prompts that bring me back to those stories.
Success! Hot. Humid. Kinda horrible. But so much #Buffalove #run716 @flyingbison #running #15k @HWYRT pic.twitter.com/eB1irjdIly
— Amy Moritz (@amymoritz) August 5, 2018
So here’s the one about running 15K in Buffalo in August.
Waiting for the race to start was, well, weird. I arrived about 45 minutes early so I could find a place to park then promptly got into the port-a-potty line. I wandered over to the start area at Flying Bison Brewing Company and found what looked like a starting corral, but no one was actually in the starting corral. Everyone was gathered outside of it and down side streets. I wondered if I was in the right space. Sure enough I was. About five minutes before the race start, announcements began and people started pouring into the starting corral. I’ve never been part of a gaggle of runners who wait so long to get into the starting corral. We’re usually not so super-chill.
The pre-race announcements included warnings about the heat and humidity, urging all runners to take on plenty of water and Gatorade on the course. (This comes into play later.) At 7:16 a.m. the gun went off and I started trotting down Seneca Street. And trot I did. There were 9.3 miles ahead of me and the day was already getting too warm for me. Slow and steady was my desired pace. Enjoy the day. Thank volunteers and police officers. Celebrate the Buffalo running community, which shows up (often but not always exclusively), for good, free beer with a side of running.
The course went on Seneca Street toward downtown and right around Mile 2 was the first water stop. But it was woefully understaffed and there were too many people so I figured I’d skip it.
Big mistake. Big. Huge.
(Sorry. “Pretty Woman” is now on Hulu and was part of my weekend relaxation package.)
While the temperature was creeping upward, the sun was still low enough in the sky so that the buildings downtown provided ample shade. We made our way around Niagara Square to Delaware and ran up the long, slow, annoying incline. By the time we reached the first 5K mark, and the first relay exchange, I was dying for a water stop. Did anyone know where the next water stop was? Heads shook no. Faces starred at me blankly.
All right then. Keep moving forward.
We turned right on North and not long after was a water stop. The pack had thinned out a bit making it easier for the volunteers to pass out water and for me to make my way over to them. Then we turned on Main Street to head back toward downtown and that long, annoying, incline turned into a long, gentle descent. It was beautiful.
We made our way over to Pearl Street and I started to remember all the times my brother and I went to see Ron Hawkins perform at small bars along this strip. One of these was the Star Buffalo. One was the Buffalo Nickel. I couldn’t remember the exact buildings they were, but I recalled those glorious times in our early to mid 20s when our nights out began at about the same time I now like to go to bed, how I stood in the back of those crowded small venues and sang along at the top of lungs. The nostalgia was refreshing. it kept me from melting.
By the time we were at the halfway point I was desperately wanting some sports drink. At the next aid station there was water, but again, only water. “Is there any Gatorade on the course?” I asked hopefully.
“I don’t think so,” one of the volunteers replied.
“Didn’t someone say there was going to be Gatorade on the course?” I asked, out loud, to no one.
“Yeah, they did,” someone said. “I heard it too,” another added.
OK. So at least I wasn’t hallucinating. But as much as I enjoy a good craft beer, at this moment, all I wanted was some cold sports drink.
But onward I went.
The course made it’s way over to the Erie Basin Marina for an out-and-back which, I can only assume, is some mandated stretch of road that all races must cover if they are to be staged in downtown Buffalo. Luckily, again, it was early enough that there were still pockets of shade and the blacktop had not been baking in the relentless sun yet, making the stretch bearable. Two water stops helped. So, too, did hitting the 10K mark, knowing just 3.1 miles separated me from the finish line.
By Mile 7 my pace had slowed. No part of my body was dry. I was soaked with sweat. My stomach was starting to feel a little queasy. So I pulled back. The final water stop was right around 7.5 miles and there, I magically saw it, yellow colored liquid in the cups volunteers were passing out. GATORADE! OH PRAISE JESUS! (And I am pretty sure I said those words out loud.) They were pouring it from a regular 32-ounce sized bottle from the store. I don’t know where it came from, if someone just went and bought it, but I had never been so happy to drink Lemon-Lime Gatorade in my entire life.
Bring on the final two miles!
There were two hills left — overpasses on Michigan and Seneca. I kept my focus that I would run to the overpass then walk the uphill portion.
As I approached the finish line I caught a glimpse of the clock. I was about 10 minutes ahead of what I expected to do given the conditions and my lack of focused training. Not bad for focusing on experience over performance.
I found some shade and sat on a curb, drinking water, catching my breath, and texting mom. (Because, duh.) The post-race party was pretty cool. The band was good. The beer was great and the food line moved pretty quickly. I hung out for a while, longer than I normally do at a race. Social media responses told me after the fact there were plenty of people I knew there, but I didn’t see anyone familiar. Still, I hung out, sang along as the band played “Shut Up and Dance,” and most importantly gave gratitude I was in a position of both health and finances to participate in this race.
Run 716 wants to grow into a premier 15K for Buffalo and it has all the makings of an amazing race. Just have some more sports drink on the course, and you’ll be perfect.
