Last night we officially registered for next Saturday's races - the 5-K for Martha and the half marathon for me - so there is no turning back now; nothing concentrates training like knowing you have paid an entry fee (a pricey $75 for the half marathon) and there is a shirt and bib number with your name on it waiting for you at the packet pickup!
My traditional training plan one week before a marathon or half-marathon is to run at race pace for six miles, getting my legs accustomed to the steady pace that will get me to the finish line in the best way possible, which I have calculated based on recent race times to be 11-minute miles; slower than that and I will not have done my best, faster than that and I will burn and crash coming across that big bridge. (Why do all my big races out here on the coast seem to involve bridges toward the end?) They call it a "Causeway" out here, and like the notorious bridge to Manteo at Mile 22 of the OBX Marathon, it is more of a psychological obstacle than a physical one for a runner who is accustomed to running Big Bearpen. The route will take me across it twice, at Mile 4 and Mile 11.
It has turned very warm here, up in the 70s by 9:00 a.m., and we agreed that if it is this warm next week that will be our biggest obstacle, not bridges or distances. By the time I had completed my first mile, I was drenched in sweat; for that reason, I amended the plan, deciding to complete only five miles, the final one on the beach where the breeze was a little cooler. My times:
10:04
10:48
10:37
10:49
10:49
"Let the good times roll!" That was not bad at all, except for that disastrous first mile (after 167 races, including 20 marathons, you would think I would know better than to make that rookie mistake, "Going out too fast"). Martha, too, had a fast, strong five-mile run; she will run well.
After a quick lunch, we drove across the above bridge, and a couple of others, to Beaufort, which we learned has been added to the list of “America’s Quirkiest Towns” by Travel and Leisure Magazine. The event we attended lived up to the adjective "quirky," Mardi Gras on Middle Street, which was advertised as a festival of New Orleans food and music and "arguably the shortest parade in North Carolina." It was held on Middle Street, one block behind Front Street and Taylor Creek in the heart of the historic district, and it did not disappoint.
We enjoyed some delicious Gumbo and an oyster "Po Boy" while listening to a group called Blue Moon Jazz set up in a parking lot. The "Krewe" parade began at 3:00 and it was filled with crazy costumed residents vying for winning titles. These ladies, "aged 40-70," were billed as the
"Bodacious Belles of Beaufort Chapter of Sweet Potato Queens," and they happily posed for a picture.
These skeletons (clever radio-controlled toys) were a delight; they were evidently a fixture every year and crowd favorites.
These tall puppets were also a big hit, bending low to avoid tree branches and to high-five children along the way.
The crowd grew and grew. We climbed to the balcony of one of the historic buildings along the street and had an eagle-eye view of the revelers:
Then the music turned seriously good as "Blue Moon Jazz" packed up and "Out of Nowhere" started tuning up, two searing electric guitars, a great lead singer with harmonica, and a drummer who took a couple of smoking breaks while drumming one-handed - some of the best Delta Blues we have heard since live music on Beale Street in Memphis last July.
Costumed Fat Tuesday couples started dancing in the street, and this little guy was getting into the rhythm. "He's going to sleep well tonight!" Martha said.
And so will we. Let the good times roll! We headed back across the bridge just before the sun went down, stopped for a pizza, and curled up to read Tana French. The wind was picking up outside, but we could hear two squealing children playing on the swing-set down below us sometime after dark, higher and higher, the chains squeaking and the palm fronds rattling in the wind.
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