The Firecracker 5-K in Bryson City is notoriously fast, and also short. But this year they corrected the latter problem, extending the start line way down the road and using chip timing. Still, the registration was congested and slow, and the lines to the rest rooms were long; and as a result, Martha did not get to warm up longer than 30 seconds. In addition, they ran the course backwards this year (due to "safety concerns"), a decision apparently made at the last minute, because some volunteer apparently simply remarked the one- and two-mile splits; I noted on my GPS watch that the first marked mile was actually 1.1, and the second was 2.1. This was a bit discouraging for Martha, who thought she was running a 9-minute mile when it was actually closer to an 8-minute mile. These factors prevented what I expected to happen at any moment from actually occuring: Martha coming up beside me, passing me, and beating me to the finish, which I sincerely would have love to see. I kept thinking I heard her, breathing behind me, but it was only a white-haired guy - in my age group? - coming up beside me at the two-mile mark and promptly mumbling, "Got to walk," then disappearing. (He turned out to be 71, and managed to take 1st place in his age group.)
Despite these mishaps, Martha took 2nd place, and I was startled to find that I had taken 1st place. Is it possible that I can still run fast? I had been surprised two days before to find that I would run a 1:42 400-meter in the middle of my traditional 3-mile easy pre-race jog as I tried to stay with little Jackie Cuervas-Reyes in our running group. Perhaps I can still do it! Well, half-fast, anyway . . .
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