Race for the Cure

*Today JD ran the Race for the Cure in Columbus. I took his post from WVU Press box and added a photo of him this morning : )*

OK, I’ve talked about it, Ern has talked about it, and today was the day – the annual Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure 5k in Columbus.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get the time I was shooting for (I ran 26:59 unofficially) but there are worse ways to begin the running season… and it would likely be the pinnacle of shallowness and conceit to complain about my 5k time when there were hundreds of cancer survivors out there running the race, too. The fact that so many people have successfully fought breast cancer (and cancer in general) is a testament to the value of an organization like Komen’s.

The weather turned out “ok”. I prefer to run in 80+ degree temps; this morning, at the 8:30 start time, it was a balmy 52 and windy. But, the rain held off until after the race.

Regardless of the chilly weather, it was announced that they set a new registration record for the day. I didn’t hear the final count, but a few minutes before the race (with 30 minutes left in the walker registration) they were over the 40,000 mark.


It’s truly a unique experience to be standing at the starting line (or, well, a hundred yards behind the starting line) with tens of thousands of runners. (It can also be a bit annoying, but more on that in a second.)

The bands stationed along the race course were pretty good, as usual. The highlight of the bands (for most of the runners) is always the OSU alumni band, alternating between the OSU fight song and Hang on Sloopy. Needless to say, it would’ve been great to hear the WVU fight song during the race. But, alas, we live in Buckeye country. Ern, however, is known for sneaking Country Roads into his iPod playlist for races. (How anyone can run to John Denver is a mystery to me.)

My one true gripe about the day is the same as it is every year (and, honestly, the same that it is for any large 5k race). For those who have never participated in a race this big, a little FYI primer: They create groups at the starting line based upon mile split times. If you run a 9 minute mile, there’s an area for you. If you run a 6 minute mile, there’s a group for you. And so on and so forth. The fastest group is lined up closest to the starting line, the slowest is the furthest back from the starting line.

You don’t have to abide by the rules and no one is going to really know if you’re in a group to which you don’t truly belong. Therein lies the problem…

Every year there are thousands of people who
a) have never run a 5k before and, thus, have no idea of where they should start
or
b) have impossibly high expectations for themselves (do I fit that description? )

The end result is that folks line up in the 6, 7 or 8 minute groups and end up slowing to a walk before they’ve even covered the first mile.

I know that doesn’t sound too horrible. But when you amplify it by adding thousands upon thousands of runners, you end up having to weave in and out, to and fro, for the first two miles of the race. This, of course, eats up time and energy as you run around the people who, for some cosmic reason, thought they had a legitimate chance of beating the rest of the competition.

But, I suppose it’s not accurate to say that the runners are competing against each other. As corny as it sounds, the truth is that the runners are, in a way, competing against breast cancer. Not that I’m dumb enough to suggest that I can comprehend what it would be like to fight cancer. But all of the runners and walkers, all 40 thousand of them, are participating in celebration of a survivor or in memory of a victim. In fact, I’m sure you can think of multiple friends or loved ones who have fought that battle.

In addition to bib numbers, the race organizers give out pink squares on which to write the name(s) of cancer survivors or victims for whom you are running. As it has for the last three years, mine read:

Running in Celebration of 2X Survivor Margaret Delay

(My grandmother-in-law)

Margaret is a fighter; and not in the nebulous and overused sense of the word. She has fought off cancer twice. I can’t even fathom what that would be like… but it certainly makes me feel ridiculous to even contemplate complaining about something as piddly and inconsequential as a side-stitch or heavy legs at the 3 mile mark in the race.

Anyhow, I’ve rambled long enough. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it’s a great race for a great cause. I hope you’ll consider participating in either the run or the walk when it comes to a city near you.

Look for Ern to give his own recap of the race in the near future. I’m out of here to treat myself to some post-race frog legs at the local Chinese restaurant.