Two “races” took place over the last few days.
Yes, I said “race.” As neither of them really were (although I’m sure some folks might disagree with me).
The always exceptional New York Rogue Runners hosted their second annual Dizzy Bat Race in Central Park on Thursday night. At the very last minute, Coach told me I was to compete. While vomiting was permitted, I’m not a fan of such things, so my tactic became a game of “just take your time and get it done.”
I have absolutely no idea how I was able to do this efficiently when I was a kid. While I kept my head focused on the bat, the surrounding grass was moving at an incredible rate, leaving me feeling like I was apart of some insane trip or, at the very least, having a terrible case of the spins (oh, wait…).
After the 10 spins were completed, I stood up, tried to regain my composure, and just like my fellow competitors, immediately started heading left. This was not intentional, as 1st Base is to the right. I felt back to normal after tagging first base and charged around the remaining bases, high-fiving Coach as I reached home plate.
Dizzy Bat Race – 1:01 (PR)
While I didn’t come in first, I’ll take that time, especially since I beat His Lordship by a solid 20 seconds or so.
Friday was spent recovering from Dizzy Bat funtivities and resting up for what was supposed to be the Boomer’s 10K Run to Breathe on Saturday morning.
And then this happened:
Manhattan summer at it’s finest.
New York Road Runners (NOT to be confused with the aforementioned Rogue Runners) made the executive decision to turn the 10K into a 4-mile “fun run” due to the never-ending heat wave and humidity. No timing mats were used to urge runners not to go out for a personal best.
My comrades and I set out to Central Park at 8:15 to temps in the mid-80s and 60% humidity. Not as terrible as the day prior, but still not optimal race conditions.
After the gun went off, I felt myself running at a reasonable pace without pushing it. The first aid station was behind the Met. While I didn’t stop (I was carrying my trusty hand-held), I noticed several runners stopping for water and/or Gatorade.
Again, it was hot.
My first two miles were relatively… fine, I suppose. The heat was definitely a problem, and I rather myself slow down than keel over from heat stroke. Turning onto 102, I felt a very welcoming breeze, which immediately came to an end turning onto the West Drive.
And then I fell apart. It was all the worst of times heading over the West Side rollers. I continued sipping on water, running through any available sprinklers, and trying not to pass out. Everyone was in the same boat – huffing, puffing, and slogging through what felt like a sauna. I was delighted when I saw 72nd Street ahead.
Boomer’s 4-Mile “Fun Run” Run to Breathe (How ironic.)
4.04 miles – 31:52 (7:53 pace)
By no means a personal record, but I’ll take it.
And now, the heat seems to have broken. Which only means one thing: time to get off my but and knock out the long run.