Maggie Valley Moonlight Race

Neither of us felt especially sore after the previous night's race until we began to warm up a little for the 8-K Moonlight Race.  I ran downhill a little, did a few pickups, and then turned to run uphill, and that's when I began to feel a little soreness, as if I had run some intervals the day before.  But it was again a good night, temperatures down in the lower 70s (which actually felt a little chilly post-race), and we were both focused on running our best.  The course starts mid-way on that long two-and-a-half mile hill, goes up, then down, and then up again; I got off to a good start, although the hill was a little daunting, felt pretty strong until the turn-around.  Then comes two-and-a-half miles downhill, and the temptation for most runners is to pour it on despite the final hill yet to come after that turn-around.  Many younger runners passed me on the downhill, including - to my surprise - Martha, who pulled ahead and led almost to the turn-around.  I passed her again and then started uphill, realizing by her distance behind that she would be unlikely to catch me.  And the reason for that was an entire summer of running Big Bearpen.  Yes, my old friend stood me in good stead now as I pulled that final mile uphill, feeling strong on purposeful.

There is a point in every race when one thinks, "I can just continue on and finish this, or I can pick it up even more, into and through the wall of discomfort, as hard as I can."  And that's when I realized that I was beginning pass runners who had passed me earlier in the race.  That is a very heartening thing to have happen!  There goes that woman in the pink socks; there goes that tall white-haired guy who was probably in my age group, gasping out, "Good job" as I passed him decisively.  The last hundred yards passed by so quickly, just like the previous night!  I had my game face on, gritting my teeth, focusing on the road ahead of me, pumping my arms.  A little girl was standing near the finish, just before the final turn into the parking lot, with her hand out-stretched high-fiving runners, and I barely took notice.  "He's too serious looking!" I heard her say as I passed her by.  And I suppose I was.  "Yes, I'm too serous looking!" I said audibly, probably surprising some along the way, "I'm too serious!"  I finished in 48:11, feeling as if I had given it my all.  Who can do more?  I felt a little light-headed, and so did Martha when she crossed the line at 49:24, also looking as if she had given her all, perhaps even more than I had.  She told me later that her only goal was to finish under 50 minutes, so it was a happy night for both of us!