The Accidental Athlete

This morning I woke up, took my first step out of bed, and immediately regretted it.

My quads. They were sore. Some kind of fierce sore. This was not what I was expecting. But here I was, walking downstairs like my grandfather once did. And even though there was a wee bit of wince, there was a whole lot of smile. Because this was my good kind of sore. The kind of sore that wears off as the day wears on. The kind of sore that reminds me I did something hard, something fun. That I went outside my comfort zone. That I expanded my definition of what it is I can do.

The Boilermaker 15K had been on my bucket list for about 10 years. I heard about it as soon as I started running. The race in Utica, N.Y. is very popular among Buffalo runners who regularly make the three-hour drive for this annual event which, I had been told, had a killer after party. In fact, that’s all I ever heard about — the post-race party. Never anything about the race. And while I’m usually up for a good party, that never quite enticed me enough to give up Musselman, a triathlon that usually falls the weekend after the Boilermaker.

Life circumstances had changed, making running a 15K in July more accessible to my training and work schedule. Then when I heard that Peter Villa of the podcast How Was Your Run Today? was going, I was sold. A chance to hang with some neat people including, but not limited to, Peter and the HWYRT universe, Fr. Dan Horan (my second favorite friar), and my old college hockey media buddy Nate, well, I was in. I was so in that I registered the minute it opened to the public, despite sitting in a media workroom in Tallahassee, Florida while covering the University at Buffalo women’s basketball team in the NCAA tournament.

But enough of my back story.

On to the race.

I arrived on Saturday to pick up my bib number and the expo was packed with some interesting booths and big names (any Kathrine Switzer siting is a good day). Food trucks were lined up outside and the whole Mohawk Community College campus felt like a running carnival of sorts. So many people, yet organized chaos. Lucky for me, as well, the race committee from Run 716 was at the expo and the guys from Buffalo helped me out, showing me where to park in the morning and answering all of my logistical questions (of which I usually have many).

The pasta dinner was good and I had the chance to perform a random act of kindness. See when I registered, I bought an extra ticket for the pasta dinner in case my amazing boyfriend could come with me. He couldn’t. Instead of just letting the ticket go to waste, I gave it to the woman behind me in line who needed to purchase one. “Merry Christmas,” she said to me. “Merry Christmas,” I replied. (After all, the Christmas spirit should be with us all year long.)

By the way, you know you’re at an endurance event when you walk into the pasta dinner and the person speaking at the expert panel is talking about the color of your urine.

Race morning went smoothly. The early bird I am, I got arrived near the finish line to park before 6 a.m., getting a spot on the street. I easily found the buses which brought us to the starting line. From then, it was about a 90 minute wait until the start. I found some of the Buffalo crew and hung out with them, then found my way to the porta-potty line. Twice. Mostly just in case and partly for something to kill the time.

Race morning temperatures were pleasantly in the 60s, which was good. Because as I entered this race I was unprepared. Woefully unprepared. I had not run further than 4.5 miles since May 12 when I ran my first ultra marathon. (I know, that race report is still in its editing phase. But trust me, it’s coming.) Work got crazy. The weather got super hot. And I just didn’t have it in me to work a training plan.

So here I was, at the starting line of one of the biggest, most popular road races in the country, and I was not prepared at all.

But instead of panic, I was calm. I knew this. I wasn’t trying to run a certain time. I only wanted to finish within the 2 hour and 30 minute cutoff. I was fairly confident I could do that. My goal was to embrace the experience.

That was until the first mile when my legs felt like crap.

Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap. This. This is not good. My legs feel a bit heavy and it’s only Mile 1. What am I going to do?

Relax, I told myself. You are around a ton of people. You’re doing just fine. Just keep moving forward.

Around Mile 2.5 there’s a hill that goes into the golf course. This was hard.The hardest part of the course for me. I had just talked myself into feeling good and then came this hill. I power walked most of it, because this wasn’t my first rodeo. If I burned myself out here, there was no going back. I needed to be smart. I needed to muzzle my ego. I needed to embrace the experience that was right in front of me.

Shortly after that came “the hill.” This is the hill people refer to when they talk about the hilly Boilermaker course. It’s a long hill in the golf course. It’s endless but  it feels pretty gradual and the views of the nearby hills are spectacular. I ran that whole length, stopping only at the start of the descent to get some water. (Side note: I found it odd for a long course that’s run in the heat of the summer to not have any sports drink at the aid stations.) The downhill was as long and generous as advertised. I started chatting with some girls nearby. I was feeling pretty good.

Mile 6 is hot and long and a short uphill that is just what you don’t need at that point. Shortly after this, I ran into another runner wearing the official “How Was Your Run Today?” singlet. Turned out to be Igor Bubushkin — a friend and occasional guest on the podcast. He was dealing with an injury. I was dealing with the looming fear that my body might suddenly decide it no longer knew how to run distance. We hung together mostly for the last 2.5 miles of the race. I pulled ahead a bit in the final mile, but chatting with Igor helped keep me at a good pace. Heck, even when we weren’t chatting, just running with someone helped me stay where I needed to be to polish off this 15K.

I was shocked when I crossed the finish line. My finishing time was way better than I was expecting — with hills and heat and undertraining I was 10 minutes faster than I legitimately anticipated. (I even shocked my mom who texted me to ask if the time the website was showing was my real result.) This is why my quads were sore on Monday morning. But here was the running lesson — you never know what will happen when you show up at the starting line. And the experience always means more than the result.

I saw Igor shortly after we came through the maze of the finish line. I lost him when I went over to see my friend Nate (who was already changed into dry clothes by the way) but later found a bunch of the HWYRT gang in the crowd of 15,000 (probably more) gathered for the post-race party. The race finishes at the FX Matt Brewing Company, home of the Saranac Brewing Company. (And Utica Club. Does anyone remember Utica Club? Do they still make Utica Club?) There is plentiful free beer, a driving force behind many of the runners. I heard there was food, but I never found my way to it. I arrived near the main stage just as they were doing the women’s awards and in time for the national anthem complete with a flyover by jet planes which was really, really cool.

Then came the live music and luckily I was with people who also like to scream the song lyrics and dance around like fools. The race turned into a summer festival. And I was surrounded by positive people, old and new friends, all of whom inspired me. So when I woke up Monday morning with sore legs, well, it was a reminder of all that was good about running for me. The soreness will quickly pass. The positive energy, that I hope to have linger for as many days as possible.