New Season

As the curtain rises on another running seaon(II consider March 1 the unoffical start), I find it difficult to forget how the previous season ended. It seems like a lifetime since last December. The winter has seemed to be a continuation of Autumn instead of true winter. Many runners have taken advantage of the mild weather to come out of this season in mid year form. Don’t count me as one of them.

To paraphrase the Elton John song; “The physical pain burned out long before the mental pain ever did”. The focal point of the second half of my 1997 season, The Philadelphia Marathon,
ended in disaster for me as a calf injury at mile 14 ended my race prematurely. When I was able to run pain free a couple of days later, I began to wonder if my mindset was what cuased me to stop. Apparently I wouldn’t be happy with just finishing, so I cut out at the first sign of trouble. I thought that until three weeks later at the Picatinny 10 mile.

On a blustery day that we have not seen the equal of all winter, I entered for the sole purpose of getting my ninth USATF race. I entered the race 107th in the standings and hoped to gain enough points to finish in the top 100. As I toed the line, I made sure I was well stretched. I kept warm until the last possible second. When the race started, I knew I would not be as fast as a year ago, but settled into a sub 7 minute race pace.

All of a sudden, just past mile three, disaster struck again. My expletive was heard by all the runners around me. I immediately thought about a second straight DNF. I decided I had to try to limp in at any pace. I hobbled through miles four and five and was passed by almost everyone. My only wish was to find someone slow enough to do my pace. I did not care about finishing last as long as I finished. I wouyld have the whole winter to rest if needed.

As I passed mile five, I saw a familiar face, Wendy Locke, one of the top women’s runners in the state with her hands in her pockets and not running too fast. Ayear ago she had run under 68 minutes and finished just behind me. I yelled “Wendy what are you doing back here?”. She said back ‘dave, wht are you doing back here?”. Then I remmbered, just as she told me. A trining partner of hers had told me recently that she had broken her arm roller skating.

My prayers had been answered. I knew I was going to finish. I felt like the Achilles track club, me with my one leg and her with her one arm, but we started talking and the miles passed quickly. At around mile 8 we actually passed some people. It was the first person I had passed since my injury. She had too much left for me and finished a minute ahead, but I was thrilled with my 79:04. As I headed towards the last half mile where you see people finishing I saw all the people who had passed me earlier. I had survived and was euphoric with a time 12 minutes slower than the year before.

What I learned is that on that on cold days I must keep my legs covered, because I have become susceptible to pulling. The mettle I showed in finishing made me realize that in some cases valor is the better form of discretion.

And so as another year starts, I begin with the same goal as always; don’t get hurt. It seems more appropriate than ever.