Crystal Coast 10-K

As race day approaches, we spent some time organizing in preparation for returning to Highlands on Sunday.  We have completed all of the improvements and repairs that we set out to do this year on the condo and now we have been thoroughly cleaning it in preparation for the final last-minute items on Sunday morning.  It has been a rewarding Sabbatical here in Atlantic Beach; Martha has read 18 books and I have read half that many, as well as completing some writing projects.  We also saw some fine films, attended some interesting educational lectures, and spent some long hours out of doors, hiking and running, which we would not have been able to do in Highlands.  Martha even joined a knitting group at the Carteret County Library earlier in the week and learned how to knit.  There is always something new to learn, isn't there?  But now we are both ready to return and face our responsibilities in Highlands with renewed perspective and energy.

The thing we have loved most about this place is its serenity.  It is hard to explain exactly why, but the simple act of walking on the beach seems to settle us and center us, to give us a great sense of peace.  Perhaps it is the soothing, rhythmic sound of the surf breaking on the shore, or the many things to see along the way - the sandpipers and shells and sand dollars and sea gulls (all those "S's"!).  We found a beautiful picture in one of the shops here, and after thinking about it for a day or two, we returned to purchase it and hang it in the front room to show our appreciation to Martha's Aunt Lizette for her generosity in letting us stay here during the winter.  Visitors to the condo will immediately see it hanging on the wall over the sofa when they open the door.  It is called, appropriately enough, "Serenity."

Weather conditions were anything but serene this morning, however!  We could hear the wind building up overnight, and by this morning it was a fairly steady 25 miles per hour out of the north.  That's not as strong as two years ago, when we both faced gusts up to 50 mph on that bridge, but it would be enough to compound the obstacle.

We arrived at the starting line in Morehead City in plenty of time, sheltering from the wind behind the Bask Hotel while we waited for the staggered start - 9:00 a.m. for the half-marathon, 9:15 a.m. for the 10-K, and 9:30 for the 5-K.  The three races meant that there were not that many runners in each race, only 122 in the 10-K, so we both got off to a good start, heading west down Evans Street, then turning out to Arendell, before finally approaching the big bridge. This part of the race was not difficult, really; after all, we are used to running hills in Highlands, and the wind was pushing hard behind us, like a gentle hand urging us upward.  Martha was ahead of me, of course, and I passed her as she circled the barrel at the 10-K and came back toward the bridge.  Then I turned, too, and we were both running straight into the wind.  Some runners were walking on the bridge, but I was determined not to stop.  I kept thinking of that quote from As You Like It:

Here feel we not the penalty of Adam,

The seasons' difference, as the icy fang

And churlish chiding of the winter’s wind,

Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,

Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say,

“This is no flattery. These are counselors

That feelingly persuade me what I am."

Yes, I thought, this wind is persuading me what I am!  And in no time, the summit was reached, the short descent to Arendell, and then the turn back toward the finish.

We were both well pleased with our finish times.  Two years ago, I finished this same race, in stronger winds, in a time of 1:18:33, and in the final mile I picked up the pace, determined to see if I could beat that time.  My time was 1:17:52.  Martha had not run a 10-K in a long time, and she, too, was pleased with a finish of 1:04:11.

The awards were held in a building a couple of blocks away, where we gathered with a hundred or so other runners, sharing congratulations and race stories with other runners.  Martha ended up taking second place in her age group.  And, at the very tail end of the awards ceremony, the presenter said, "And we have an Over Seventy runner here, as well," and it turned out that I was that runner, the oldest in the race, and went up to receive my award a little embarrassed at the loud applause.  All of us older runners experience this phenomenon soon enough, because every runner there is thinking, "I want to still be racing when I am that age!"

We celebrated with lunch at The Shuckin' Shack, right next door to the awards ceremony, and then returned back to the condo.  The northerly wind had left the balcony in sheltered sunshine, so we both sat out there for one last afternoon, soaking up a little sun while Martha worked on that 18th book.  Later, we drove over the bridge to Beaufort, the same bridge we had run over that morning, for the final film that we would be able to see in the Beaufort Picture Show series, Maiden.  It was the perfect grand finale, the inspiring true story of a courageous woman, Tracy Edwards, who in 1989 gathered together an all-female crew to participate in the Whitbread Round the World Race, a gruelling yachting competition that covers 33,000 miles and lasts nine months.

It was an inspiring story, and it put our own modest struggle against adversity earlier in the day in some perspective.  Still, we do what we can do.  And we both agreed that we are not cut out for the sailing life.  In fact, I felt a little seasick, honestly, simply watching those big waves crash over that little boat.