Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

This was the fifth consecutive year that I planned to run the Cocoa 5-K, a small race in Morehead City that is part of the annual Carolina Chocolate Festival.  Despite only a week since our last race, I was as prepared as I could be; I had run easy on Monday, and on Wednesday I had included two "intervals" in the Fort Macon Picnic Area, my fastest since we have been here.  Unfortunately, Martha was having some issues with a recurring foot injury and decided to forego the race.

Light rain was blowing hard against the windows when I awoke at 4:30 a.m., the result of 20 mph winds out of the north.  It's a short drive across the bridge to the Crystal Coast Civic Center, but this year the starting line and race registration had been moved to an adjoining building, so I was running late and had time for only a short warm-up.  They were also out of Extra Large T-shirts, which was all right with me, although I have always thought that the logo on the shirt is hilarious:  a chocolate bar in full flight, with a bite taken out of his upper corner by some predatory chocolate-eater.

The rain had stopped, exactly as it had last Saturday in Havelock, and conditions were actually the best I have seen in five years, with temperatures in the upper 40s and a diminishing wind.  The race begins in parking lots and on narrow sidewalks, so I held back until we reached Evans Street, a long, straight section, an abrupt turn around a traffic cone, and back again.  Rounding the traffic cone, I asked the volunteers, "Hey, is there anybody behind me?" which always gets a big laugh.  And there were other runners behind me!  I had a great time, calling out encouragement to runners who were ahead of me (i.e., most of the runners).  There were several strollers and a lot of young runners, too, encouraged by a $45.00 "family" entry fee that in one case that I witnessed apparently covered a pair of parents and three children.

I was pleased with my finish time of 33:31, and wandered around afterward in that post-race euphoria, chatting with other runners and waiting for the awards ceremony.  Several youngsters won awards, including a young tow-headed boy I had seen on the course completing his first race who received the loudest round of applause.  The awards were being given out by a race official who apparently did not have much experience with older runners, because I was surprised when he reached my age group of 70-79 and said, "I can't imagine this!  I hope I can still be walking at that age!"  And then he called my name.  I may have received more applause than the young man running his first race, and I was a little embarrassed.  A week ago, there had been four of us old codgers 70 and over.  And what about my friend 80-year old Fred, who (I had discovered) was the oldest runner in his 10-K in Asheville last week?  Now he's an inspiration!  I'm a spring chicken.

But I was happy to be recognized, and I think I was the oldest runner in this race as Fred had been in his.  We aging runners, I have found, reserve the heartiest applause for the old veterans in their 80s and even 90s.  All of us are thinking, "I hope I can still be running when I'm that age!"

Afterward, over lunch, Martha asked me if I knew what "Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit" meant; several of her friends had posted it today on Facebook.  I admitted that I had never heard of it, and she explained that it is a superstition where a person repeats these words on the first day of a month to ensure good luck for the rest of it.   

I felt a little like "Tortoise, Tortoise, Tortoise" this morning.   But I liked that round of applause for perhaps being the oldest runner in the race but by no means, I had discovered when I circled that traffic cone, the last.

And now I have good luck to look forward to all month long!