T80 - Race for The Cure, And My Bag - Run

Central Park, New York

Maureen and her friend Ally have decided to train for a half-marathon together. Very inspiring. And the first step on this road to semi-endurance racing was New York City's Race for the Cure in Central Park. I almost feel bad doing these, because I know to some of the people running it it is a really big deal to run 3.2 miles. For me, it could have basically been a day off, and I didn't feel much of a sense of accomplishment after finishing. But it really puts things in perspective, insofar as what level of fitness you are at when training for an Ironman. I guess the whole thing would have been inspirational if you're the sort of person who has never walked further than from the TV to the fridge, and you felt like you were pushing yourself for a good cause. I, however did not. It was just a fun thing to do on a Sunday morning, and a souvenir T-Shirt. Nonetheless, I joined Team Turtle Power, and found myself waking up at 7 a.m. on a Sunday and taking the subway to Central Park.


To say this was a big race would be an understatement. I believe roughly one-third of New York City was there. I got off the subway and met up with the rest of the team, consisting of Maureen's coworkers Ally and Jordan,, and was almost immediately lost in the throng of people wearing the pink and white race shirts. Then came time to check my bag.

You know, you always have some extra shit at any kind of race, like a wallet, cell phone, shirt to wear home so you dont gross out everyone on the subway. That kinda shit. But so did the other 25,000 people doing this race (not an exaggeration). And there was exactly one bag check, which consisted of some clueless volunteers tossing them all on a pile with some excuse for a claim check attached to it. I felt very secure leaving my wallet, phone, iPod and Lipodrene under the watchful eyes of some kids who couldn't even figure out an organization system. So as I stood behind about 20,000 people, four city blocks from the starting line, I realized the line to get bags might also be four blocks long. And I hate lines.

Run - 60 minutes

2 Lipodrene
No, it did not take me 60 minutes to do a 5K. Christ, I'm not THAT slow. But here's what happened:

As Uma Thurman, Michael Bloomberg, Judge Judy and Stephen Colbert all gave inspirational speeches to kick off the race, I realized that this bag check thing would serve as extra motivation for me to run faster. Every person i pass, after all, is another person I don't have to wait for to find their bag in the endless pile of shit that was the bag check. What I did not know is that the runners were supposed to start before the walkers (which comprised probably 75 percent of the race) and got stuck behind all of them, not moving, looking at the starting line. I finally decided to say to Hell with teamwork and running with the girls, and strided it out on the sidewalk to the starting line.

Took me twelve minutes. Twelve minutes just to START. I jogged past the celebrity-filled starting line to get to the course, whereI just took off. Now again, I do not run fast, but I run faster than most of the people in this race. So I was just straight dodging people through all of Central Park, running in and out of the pink-ribbon marked course. It was kinda like Voodoo People, but I wasn't blindfolded. And every person I passed I tohught "Well, motherfucker, looks lik you'll have to wait for ME to get my bag!" Every person who passed me (like maybe 4), I made a point to pass again because I knew that could be ten minutes of bag-findgin I could save. Impatience works well as motviation.

Despite pushing it, I still only finished in 26 minutes, which is not stellar. I'm going to go ahead and blame al lthe hills in Central Park. But as soon as I was done, all I could think was 'Ok, where's the fucking bag check?" So I jsut kept running. I ran and asked about 5 volunteers, none of whom had any idea. I ran some more until I ended up back on the course with all the walkers, where I ran about another mile until I found one volunteer who told me the bag check was on 72nd street, and gave me directions.

I ran the 3/4 of a mile to the bag check, and the volunteers basically told me to go dig through the pile myseld. I briefly considered trying to find a bag with some good shit in it, but ultimately I was able to find mine in under 5 minutes, at which point I put on my iPod, got back on the course at the 1.5 mile mark, and ran half the damn thing again. Not nearly as motivated this time, and having to run over walkers on the way back. I felt kinda bad, since they were sjut out for a morning constitutional for breast cancer, and I was blowing by them like that guy goign 110 on the freeway. btu whatever. I had some good music on and didn't want to slow down.

Eventually, I made it back to the finish line for a second time, a full hour after I started the race. The training card called for a 70 minute run, but given that I ran faster and with hills (hills covered in horseshit from those fucking handsome carraige things, I might add) I figured this should suffice. I met up with my teammates, who were thrilled they ran the entire length of the course, took some pictures, and got on the subway home.

I wouldn't exactly call this a tuneup race, but it was certainly worth doing. There won't be near than number of celebrities at my Ironaman, nor will it go through a world famous park, nor will I have to dodge 20,000 walkers. But hey, I did somethign for charity and not myself. I almost feel a little bit dirty.