The Main Street Mile

It is truly exhilarating for a distance runner to run a one-mile race.  And the course at Waynesville is extraordinarily fast, beginning with a slight up-and-down roll, but then descending in a gradual downhill finish for the last half-mile or so.  The temperatures were in the low 70s, and Martha reminded me that the bank thermometer near the finish line four years ago had hovered a little over 90 degrees.  This was the third time I ran this race; in 2010 when I was in peak condition I finished in a surprising 6:48  - I did NOT think I could run that fast anymore! - and in 2011 I finished in a respectable 7:09.  But age has taken its toll, and four years later my only goal was to finish under eight minutes.  Martha had the same goal, I later discovered, and I was able to watch her finish because hers was the second of four heats.  As I stood at the finish line, I was surprised to see her coming in so soon!  Her time was 7:59.

I began to make my way to the start one mile up Main Street, jogging a little, walking some, and doing some fast pick-ups, just to wake up my muscles.  Whether it is a marathon or a mile, the excitement at the starting line seems to be the same, except when the starting horn went off this time I suddenly realized that there was no room for error.  No water stops, no walking breaks, no joking around with by-standers as I usually do during a marathon, simply a single, pure, hard run at 400-meter pace.  My first quarter was 1:56, which was very encouraging, and I was 3:56 at the 800.  (I later learned that Martha was a second faster at the half).  You can almost see the finish line at the half-way point.  The last half-mile went by so quickly!  I moved from side to side in the road, trying to find perfectly level terrain, because I felt that I might literally trip over my own feet, or stumble over a patched pothole.  As I approached the clock I realized I would be under eight, and only later found out I had run a 7:57.  A very satisfying night!

And did we wave anything for Maggie Valley, scheduled for tomorrow night?  Neither of us did - we ran as hard as we could, holding nothing back.

While waiting for Martha to finish, I saw my old friend Don Hendershot, who used to live in Highlands.  Don was the Race Director for the old Highlands School PTO 5-K, which I took over in 1994, and he cajoled me into running my very first 5-K in 1993.  So we come full circle.  His daughter Maddie (9) ran a 6:51, and Izzy (13) ran a 5:54.  I always get smoked by 9-year-olds and 13-year-olds these days.