Cape Cod 5k Run/Walk 2005

I hadn't planned very far ahead on running the Cape Cod 5k, but knowing I was going to be on the Cape for the weekend, I paid a visit to the Cool Running web site, and in the end, signed up for the race. As I was going to be visiting a friend, I would, for the first time, have race day support, and having finally gotten around to purchasing a camera (Nikon D70 Digital SLR) for myself last fall, was also able to get photos of me running!

I monitored the weather prediction for race day for a good week and a half leading up to the race. I was glad to see the prediction steadily improve as race day drew nearer. On the day of the race, it looked like the precipitation that had been forecast to arrive would easily hold off until well after the race was over.

We arrived at 9:30am for the 10:00am race start - plenty of time to visit the registration table, pick up the necessaries, and give my companion (Sandy) a quick introduction on using the camera.

After picking up my bib, we stopped by the finish line for a pre-race photo op. What does the "02" mean, anyway? Could this be a prediction of my finishing placement, perhaps?

Just about ready for the race; all I have to do is take off my newly-acquired Cape Cod 5k race shirt, and I'm good to go. And no, I'm not standing half naked in the middle of the Village Green in Hyannis; that bit peeking out below the shirt is a bit of my running shorts!

At this point (about five minutes before the race is scheduled to start), I have tested the ground temperature, and decided that it is warm enough to at least consider running the race barefoot.

Just before 10am, we were called to the start of the race. It was here I learned that the first mile or so of the course followed a road that was under construction, and was well littered with dirt, sand, and rocks. I tested the surface, and found that the rocks were not sharp, and ultimately decided to make an attempt to do without my watershoes. I did keep them tucked inside the waistband of my running shorts, in case I decided I needed them at some point during the race.

Naturally, this is when I got the most comments and questions about the absence of footwear. When this photo was taken, I was most likely in the process of extolling the benefits of running barefoot in response to those questions and comments.

You can clearly see my bib number (198) in this picture. Sandy tells me I look like I'm frowning in this shot. I'm about to run barefoot on loose rocks rolling around on top of pavement for a few miles; what could be bringing me down?

Seriously, though, I can only presume this was just an unfortunately timed shot while I was thinking about something - perhaps pondering whether I ought to be at least starting the race with my watershoes.

Just after this picture was taken, we were instructed to move to the left-hand side of the road in preparation for the start of the race. There wasn't much sand/dirt/rock on the left side here.

And they're off! I'm not quite certain, but I think that may be the top of my head peeking out just above the right shoulder of runner #279, Patrick Ryan (more easily seen in the larger picture). What happened to my feet?!?

And here, you can find one of the missing feet, though you can't see much else of me. Mr. 279 has pulled away from me slightly, and you can see my right foot peeking out from behind the woman wearing the pale blue jacket, below the sign for Route 6, and I'm in front of the kid wearing bib #272.

There I am! And I am clearly having a great time, albeit perhaps at the expense of good running form. It almost looks like I'm skipping, but I assure you, I ran the entire race without once giving in to any temptation I may or may not have had to be so playful.

No more pictures until I am nearly at the end, I am afraid (what, you expected Sandy to run along the race route, at a pace enough faster than me to afford her time to pause and take pictures of me all along the path?) The road surface remained pretty much as it appears in the previous five photos for about the first half of the race. I generally avoided the loose sand and rocks when I could, but they didn't seem all that bad when I did run on them. Just before the one mile mark, there were smooth steel plates over some of the right hand side of the road, but I opted to run on the loose stuff instead for this stretch.

A scant few seconds after I passed the one mile marker, I heard a voice behind me telling his running companion "7:13". Gee, I guess I managed to get through the first mile at about a 7:10 pace! Dare I hope to be able to manage a new PR? This pair passed me just a bit past the next bend.

As I neared a 'T' intersection where the race route turned left onto a more major road (relatively speaking, that is), a policeman on a motorcycle passed by slowly, and asked me if I wanted to borrow his boots. I replied that I was prepared, if I found I needed anything, and we continued on our seperate ways.

By the time I had turned onto the new road, my feet had started to get a little numb, and I found that the surface of the new road was actually a bit less comfortable for running even than the loose rocks, sand and dirt had been. After a few hundred yards or so, I pulled my watershoes out of my waistband, veered off to the grass, quickly slipped them on, then ran back out onto the road. I would guess this cost me no more than about 5 seconds total time. Not long after, I was passed by a couple of kids (the one who was just behind me in the earlier photo and his companion, if I'm not mistaken), and immediately after they passed, I saw the sign, and called out loudly enough for them to hear something along the lines of: "Two miles! Woohoo!"

I continued along without much of anything to report, until I saw the 2½ mile marker. That's the first time I've seen a non-integral mile marker in a race. I pondered just when I should remove my watershoes, as I was determined to finish the race barefoot. I kept an eye out for a three mile marker, but never did see one. At one relatively busy intersection, I nearly missed the right turn I was meant to make, but fortunately, the police officer who was directing traffic for the race corrected my near-mistake before I got far off course.

I could see runners fairly far down the road ahead of me, and the buildings I could see far down the street looked familiar, so I deduced that this might be the last leg of the race before the final left turn into the parking lot. I decided to run a little further, and make sure I really was that close to the end, before I doffed the footwear.

As I continued down the road, I eventually realized that there were cones running down the middle of the road, and that the people looking back at me were standing near the finish line. I started hopping along, removing my watershoes one at a time as I went, then returned to a "normal" run, albeit with a shoe in each hand.

Here I come, all on my own, carrying my watershoes in my hands.

As I neared the parking lot, I turned in at the first driveway, and it took a second or two to realize that people were directing me to the second driveway, so I veered over the dirt island back onto the sidewalk (the first driveway and dirt island are visible in this photo). At the final turn, Sandy was there to take my shoes, so I could run the final hundred yards or so without being encumbered by having to carry my shoes.

Sandy's managed to deal with my shoes, and I'm now sprinting the rest of the way.

Thanks to good timing on Sandy's part, here's a "photo finish". In the larger photo, and in this full-size crop, you can clearly see the clock reads 0:23:02, which is exactly what the official results list as my finish time:

We've headed over to the tent, where we will get our lunch, provided by Naked Oyster. I was a little disappointed by the absence of any fresh fruit such as has been ubiquitous at all the other races I have run, and that there was no vegetarian lunch option. I was also rather surprised at how cold the ground inside the tent was, but I doubt anyone other than Sandy and I noticed at all.

Here I am standing next to the race results. My thumb is on my entry; I finished 22nd overall out of a field of 121 total participants (there were only 88 racers on the printed pages; perhaps the others were walkers?). I was the 18th male (out of 49), and the 4th in my division (out of 12 males age 40-49). Although I finished in 4th place in my division, I was still nearly 5 full minutes behind the 3rd place finisher in my division, so I expect I still have a way to go before I am taking home any medals, even for third place!

The man standing next to me is John Shaw; it seems somebody had their fingers shifted one place to the left when they typed in his first name, though, as he appears in the results (38th overall) as "Higb Shaw."

Also, I would have finished first in the barefoot category, had I not been disqualified from this very specialised division for having only completed two thirds of the race without shoes. Of course, I was the only one who ran any of the race barefoot, so I don't know that my transgression really matters.