on the iPod: "my hero" -- foo fighters
After a week of destitute weather, highlighted with four days of rain and cold temps, the sun made an appearance around noon on Friday just as I was heading to the expo for the 2nd year of the Bentonville Running Festival. The timing couldn't have been better, as I picked up my bib and a pretty cool swag bag complete energy bars, a water bottle, gum, various and sundry coupons, some kind of low-fat baked chips product, and a bottle of French's mustard. Mustard! What the hell is that? I got a chuckle when I saw it. I suppose that living in the home of the world's largest retailer lends itself to having access to all the different vendors when it comes time to beg for handouts. Mustard, methinks, is at the top of the list. It's the other condiment, right?
The swag bag also came with a really great tech shirt. Race shirts are hit or miss, with some of them being disappointing, or just flat-out ugly, and because of that they almost always end up on the wall of my classroom. It's kind of my way to encourage my students to think about running. The shirt for the 8K in Chicago two weeks ago was so ugly, in fact, that it didn't even make the wall. I couldn't stand to look at it. Instead I just gave it to a student. Teenagers will wear pretty much anything.
Race morning dawned and the sun hadn't gone anywhere. I decided to take country backroads to the race as opposed to the straight shot north on the interstate. Not unlike running, being on country roads has an effect on my soul. It gives me a chance to step back from things that worry me and look at the world the way it is intended to be understood. Country roads remind me that I am an okay guy and that life is swell.
The downtown Bentonville square was packed with the race festival. There were bands playing, kids running around, racers stretching, groups forming, families cheering. Everyone seemed to be smiling in anticipation of what was to come. Because there were three races scheduled for the morning: a half marathon, a 5K, and a fun run, the feel was upbeat and relaxed. It felt great immediately. I hadn't been there for more than five minutes when I ran into current and former students who were there to either run or volunteer.
Students, with their still-developing frontal lobes, always remind me to appreciate the simplicity of life. It never fails that they ask one singular question: "Are you going to win, Mr. Puckett???" With their eyebrows raised and excitement plastered across their face, they are completely serious. I remember being their age. Sometimes I wish I was again.
Making my way to the corral, I found myself relatively close to the front of the pack, which is not my standard modus operandi. But it was cool, however, as I was able to start with two great friends and teachers, Beth Busbea and Charlotte Champagne. They both teach in the math department at Bentonville High School and have become good friends over the years. I love talking to them both. We eat lunch together a few days a week and talk shop. They don't know it, because I've never told them, but those lunches are part of the reason that I love my job so incredibly much. They're great peeps. Charlotte throws a rockin' party every year out on the lake for the entire math department and I never make the cut. That's probably a function of teaching in the social studies department. Damnit. Maybe this year.
I also got to visit in the corral with Chris and Ashley Lyle. Chris is an old college buddy with whom I reconnected last summer at the Run For The Grapes. He's run tons of marathons and has a crazy-fast pace. We've discussed getting together one afternoon for a few miles and I know that it'll happen when our schedules find the time. Ashley was running her first distance race and was visibly anxious as we waited. I reminded her that she'd been training for this and encouraged her to go out and do her best. I'll go ahead and surmise that she did just that, as she crossed the finish line a few minutes ahead of myself. She rocked it.
The gun went off and I settled in to what is becoming my comfortable pace of somewhere around a 9:25 mile. I know that this won't be sustainable for the OKC marathon next month and am planning to focus on slowing it down by about a minute for my remaining distance runs. But yesterday was about going out and having fun more than training for 26.2 miles, so that's what I did. The sun on my face felt great for the first three miles, but would later prove to steal a bit of energy in the latter portions of the race. The sun is a blessing and a curse that way. As it's an uncontrollable commodity, I always try to appreciate a run for what it is and put my best foot forward.
Rounding the corner toward the four mile marker, I could barely, but distinctly, make out the familiar shape and silhouette in the distance. I had seen it many times before. Shiny and bright, like a beacon and monument to the disgusting depths of American capitalism and Western greed, it was right there on the side of the course. Mrs. Pugh's big-ass SUV!
I immediately got excited as I knew that this turn of events could only mean one thing: my friend had rolled out to cheer me on. And I was right. The moment got even better when I saw Cynthia Puckett standing just a few yards away, camera in tow of course, yelling and cheering for me. I didn't stop to greet them, choosing rather to keep going with a wave and an audible "thank you" for coming out. After passing, I lamented the fact that Mrs. Pugh wasn't running this race with me, but at the same time was humbled that she would come to watch. And of course Cynthia Puckett always shows up. I would see them both around mile 11 and again at the finish line. Their presence speaks volumes and makes me feel special. Very much so. It's a game-changer.
At the 10K marker I was on pace to finish right around two hours, but feeling a bit of an energy bonk from the blazing sun and relative lack of shade, coupled with the knowledge of the massive hill in the middle of mile 12 that was awaiting me, I accepted my fate of most likely not coming in with a new PR. I was immediately cool with this revelation, but didn't let up and continued to push my limits. I was feeling good.
My focus was on mile 9, because the course went right past a friend's house and he had mentioned earlier that he'd come out and watch. This made me happy as he'd not seen me race before and it was an experience that I wanted to share with him on some level. Disappointment set in as I passed by his street and he was nowhere to be seen. Not allowing it to put a damper on the final miles, I focused on finishing bold.
He called me after the race and excitedly asked me if I had fun and how I did. Recounting his morning, he told me that he did indeed wait at the end of the street but couldn't find me. He said he even drove over to another portion of the course, but that "everyone there was running really slow", so he didn't think I would be in that pack and didn't stick around. That made me smile.
At first I was irritated as his explanation made no sense to me on any level. I wanted him to see the race. It was important to me. It would make total sense to watch the entire race go by from one spot, knowing that eventually every runner would pass. Done deal. But as our phone conversation progressed, I could tell through intonations that my friend was happy that i'd done well and finished another half marathon. That's all that mattered to him. In that moment, I couldn't help but appreciate his call and concern. He was reaching out the way that he knew how to do. And it was incredibly sincere. I wanted him to be there, I wanted to smile at him as I ran by, and see him smile back at me. But that's okay. I still like him.
Mile 10 went through the Bentonville Bark Park and was packed with supporters. Several of my AP Psychology students were working an aid station and I deliberately took water from them as they screamed and cheered. I almost always take water at the end of an aid station so that I can walk a few yards and drink. I can't drink while running. I have to stop and walk. It's no big, i'm cool with taking a few seconds. While doing so, I saw a few straggling supporters up ahead milling around. One of them, when she saw me approaching, began to scream and jump. Wildly. I instantly recognized my great friend Jen Hottinger. One of the coolest chicks I know. Hands down.
I had absolutely no idea she'd be on the course. She was wearing a homemade t-shirt that said, in hugely obnoxious letters, "I love Puckett!" To see her there, and to know that she'd gone to all that trouble to wear a shirt, immediately made me emotional. I ran up to her and she gave me the biggest hug and kiss that is appropriate for two friends to share in the middle of a public event. It was outstanding. She was also at the finish line waiting for me with more congratulatory hugs. It made my day. That's the truth.
All that stood in between me and the finish line was, undeniably, the largest hill i've ever run. It's awful. It will, without thinking twice, beat you down and make you consider giving up running. Pain is a given with this hill, it's simply a matter of whether or not you can run the entire length. I was hell-bent on doing so. I wasn't going to walk regardless of how much it hurt.
I finished the race in a sprint and a time of 2:02:13, a few minutes off of a PR, but feeling great and proud. The finish line was a complete party, with all of my friends from the course there to celebrate with me. I also ran into Donnie and Marilyn Payne, two more great friends. Marilyn had run her first race ever, the 5K. She was proud, as she should be. She's a finisher.
I have one final distance run in preparation for the Oklahoma City Marathon. With that race being less than a month away, i'm beginning to feel the nervousness buzz that accompanies any goal. Right now it's not necessarily a good buzz, but I know that it'll turn into an energy and drive that gets me to my goal. 26.2 miles. Yesterday I was half way there.
Run.
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