Today I did the Dammit Run with my dad it went pretty darn well if I don’t say so myself. The Dammit Run is a local run held by a high school to raise money to repair the track. The entire run is only 5 miles, but it is a tough 5 miles. (my actual GPS mileage said 5.12 miles and I want credit for that 0.12 miles!)
Here is my race report:
As the race was about to start I secured my place, as usual, at the back of the pack. There is no sense in getting passed by more people than you absolutely have to. They start the race and the front of the pack starts running. It is a small race, so it only takes a couple of minutes before there is enough space for me and my dad to start jogging.
It quickly becomes evident that my dad is uncomfortable with the fact that we are DFL (dead f-ing last. It is a racing term. I did not make it up, but I do like to use it liberally!) I am used to this as the front of the pack (well, really, since it is everyone but us, it is more of a herd) always takes off and pulls away quickly. This is due in large part that most people start these things at a pace they cannot maintain. We did actually pass some people later on and did not finish the race DFL.
The run starts at the high school, runs out along a slight uphill trail for about 2 miles then up a steep, by mercifully short hill, you get about 1/8th of a mile to recover then it goes up the long, steep dam, then immediately after the dam, with NO time to recover you up a much longer, much steeper trail. I fought the good fight, but I could not run up the entire trail portion. I made it about ¾ of the way up, but since I did not know how long it was, and EVERYONE around us was walking up the trail, I walked. We only walked for about 50-60 yards or so when I could see the crest of the hill, so I started running again. I was pretty proud of myself. Instead of getting down on myself for walking I just didn’t think about it and started running again. I use the term “running” very loosely here. It was a very slow, shuffle-like gait, which was all I could muster at that angle of incline.
Then, finally we started to go down the hill. The downhill was rough on the old knees-eys, but was much preferred to going up hill. As we approached the finish, I saw that the time was 59:30-something and two high school girls ahead of us said, “We need to finish in under an hour” and picked up the pace, so I said “Come on Dad. Us to!” and we finished in 59:47! That is about 11:41 pace (based on the full 5.12 miles) for a tough race and I am pretty darn proud of that.
According to the GPS:
Mile 1: 12:04
Mile 2: 11:55
Mile 3: 15:09 two of the nasty hills
Mile 4: 10:21 most of this downhill
Mile 5: 9: 51 most of this downhill
My dad used to be really competitive in these things (ran under a 6:30 minute/mile for a 10K) and I think it was tough for him to have such a slow time, but we had fun and it was really nice to do something together, so we are going to do it again.
After that I, unfortunately have to list my food “bads” this weekend.
1. At dinner out with friends on Friday: Chicken piccata (TONS of lemon butter caper sauce) and 1/2 a piece of cheesecake. The owner of the restaurant said his mother made the BEST cheesecake in the world and I said “no” at first, but then I caved after trying a bite of someone else’s. I ordered one to split with my friend. (BTW, he was right his mother DOES make the best cheesecake in the world)2. Today I had a second breakfast after the Dammit Run with my dad. Two eggs scrambled (I think they use to butter to cook them because they are SCREAMIN’) fruit and english muffin.
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