RACING AT THE END OF THE WORLD

As a kid, I always loved Coney Island. It took forever to get there, but when we did, the batting cage, Nathans, the bumper cars, the Cyclone (full disclosure: I never actually RODE the Cyclone till my 20s...too scary!). SO much fun!

And then there was the Ocean!

The first time I saw the Ocean it was at Coney Island. It was HUGE. Looking at it, I could see nothing but, well, ocean. It had no end. We must be, I remember thinking, at the end of the world.

Coney Island was the end of the world!

I had no intention of racing today at the end of the world. In fact, I'd signed up for a race much closer to home, along the East River and the FDR drive, as a matter of fact. So close that I could do my race warm up by jogging from my apartment to the start. But it was postponed.

Feeling in a runnerish mood, however, I found a replacement...a 5K race on the Coney Island Boardwalk...The Race At The End Of The World. Okay, officially it was called The Great Irish Fair of New York 5K Run/Walk. But I ask you, which is the more intriguing race title?

I almost didn't do the race, however. It is SO far away after all so I hesitated signing up. When I finally filled out the on line registration I got bounced off line just before submitting it. Maybe it was a sign that I shouldn't go, I thought. But then I recalled that I don't believe in signs. I mean would god tell me not to race? First, I don't believe in god and, if I did, not in one who would care about my having to take a long subway ride. I mean focus on the situation in Syria, if you exist, for goodness sake.

My point is I did sign up to race.

So I got to the last stop on the D train, walked to the Boardwalk, took in the still vast Ocean, and headed to the start which was marked by a big banner reading: FINISH. Soon I noticed a problem. Coming to the 3 mile marker...which should be 1 tenth of a mile from the finish...I could see that the actual distance was longer. Later, at the end of my warm up, I went back to the 3 mile marker and ran at race pace to the finish. It took me a bit over a minute. Too far for the supposed distance. I approached the race director and told him.

Ten minutes till the start of the race and he didn't want to hear it. He said regardless of where the mile markers were the course was measured accurately...3.1 miles, 5 kilometers.

I've come off a long lay off but recently I've started to regain my speed. I hoped today to run under an 8 minute per mile pace. As the fastest I've done recently was 8:14, this was a very challenging goal.

Off we went on the Boardwalk, heading west into a fairly strong wind. I tried to relax as I also pushed myself to go fast. I was nervous that, in fact, my first mile would be over 8 minutes and, if I couldn't do even mile 1 when I was fresh at goal pace maybe the rest of the race would be a disaster! And I'd come so far and ignored a sign (not that I believe in them) and it would all be so bad.

I finished mile 1. My watch said an astonishing 7:30! I hadn't run a 7:30 mile in SO long. Very nice to see it again.

We turned around and now ran with the wind. I knew I couldn't sustain such a quick pace throughout so I slowed. A few people passed me but not that many. I hoped that the wind at my back would partly compensate for my less vigorous pace and I hoped that I wouldn't become so fatigued that I had to seriously slow, not during mile 2. My fears didn't materialize. I kept a steady pace and, reaching the Mile 2 marker, I was shocked again at the numbers on my watch...7:30. I'd done a second, totally fast mile. I was now a full minute ahead of goal. Very tired I knew I'd slow for the final mile but, even so, a 7:45 or 7:40  seemed very doable.

Of course, that was true ONLY if mile 1 and mile 2 had been measured correctly!

Mile 3 began just beyond the finish line. We continued east, still running with the wind, to another turnaround a bit more than half a mile down the Boardwalk, by the Aquarium. That portion seemed ENDLESS. I was running now from landmark to landmark, pushing hard to not significantly slow. A few more racers went by but I was holding my own. Finally I reached the turn and headed for home. SO exhausted, but not wanting to waste the great effort to that point.

The finish line was right across from a tall structure that I thought of as The Parachute Jump. Now, I have no idea if The Parachute Jump still exists. I vaguely recall reading years ago that it had been torn down. But this structure, by the finish line, that I called The Parachute Jump? The point is that it is very tall and I could see it. Another words, I could see where the finish line was, I could see how close I was coming to it and it seemed like, despite my best efforts to hang in there, it was taking forever.

And then I was at the Mile 3 marker. My watch said 8:30!

I knew I hadn't slowed by a minute. The mile markers just weren't correct. I hadn't run a 7:30 pace for the first 2 miles. But what had I actually run? I knew the final tenth mile of the course was measured wrong. I pushed it as hard as I could, finishing it in just under a minute.

Exhausted as I was I could still do the rough math in my head. I was DEFINITELY in at under an 8 minute pace! I'd done it! Exactly by how much would have to wait until I sat down, relaxed and allowed my brain to resume normal functions.

Turned out it was 7:54 per mile pace. Kind of weird. SOLIDLY better than my goal time which, before  the race I seriously wondered if I was capable of doing. So, GREAT. But, also, a good bit slower than my apparent fast first two miles had indicated were possible. In that regard, disappointing.

I think I'll go with really, really, good! A very nice, very encouraging race at the end of the world.