At about Mile 11, there was a long incline up a paved road that led back into the heart of the Cornell University campus, where our race had begun some hour and 30 minutes earlier. It was while powering up this stretch that a wild, dense snow squaw enveloped us, and a strong wind braced us from our 11 o’clock, limiting visibility and slowing the churn of our fatiguing legs. This is painful! That’s my immediate recollection of this early springtime run through rolling country roads just outside of the college town of Ithaca, NY.
This was my first time enrolled in this half marathon, sponsored by the Finger Lakes Runners Club. I was attracted to the modest registration fee (early bird registration was $20.00) and the adventure of running a new neighborhood. The Better Half and I drove over from Fairport, NY on Saturday to enjoy a day of exploring Ithaca before this Sunday morning race. It was the first time that we had booked a stay with Airbnb, and this turned out nicely.
Our host, Marcus, provided a comfortable, private apartment attached to the back of his suburban home, and, though we planned on dinner at a restaurant, the Better Half ended up making a gourmet dinner featuring linguini with shrimp in a cream sauce. For desert, we had fig newtons and glasses of Saranac Legacy IPA. Following dinner, we enjoyed a DVD of the movie Billy Elliot that Marcus had included in a collection for his guests, the first DVD she and I had watched together in months.
We fell promptly asleep at 10 PM that night, so we were rested and ready at 7 AM the next morning. In addition to strong, hot coffee, my pre-race breakfast consisted of oat meal with fruit, buttered toast with peanut butter, and a banana. A weather check on my iPhone app suggested that it would be about 30 degrees at start time. After a long, hot shower and some deliberation, I landed on the following race gear: my blue New Balance 860 v7 running shoes, New York City Marathon running socks (a Christmas gift from my “unofficial running coach”, Bobby Newman), long compression pants with blue shorts, a black, long sleeve thermal shirt, and my blue LIFE Runner racing jersey on top. I also wore an old, gray, polyester short sleeve shirt as a third layer, but, as it turned out, that was one layer too many, and it ended up shoved into my compression pants for safe keeping before mile 2. Finally, on my head, I wore a “Knights of Columbus” knit cap and simple knit gloves on my hands.
The Start Line
The race started right outside of Barton Hall on the campus of Cornell University, with registration and general preparations inside. I had never been on the Cornell campus before, and I had anticipated that “Barton Hall” would be a cramped academic building with snaking lines of runners at each bathroom entrance congesting the hallways. I was wrong! Barton Hall is an indoor field house with a 1/8 mile track circling a nearly two acre open space. During World War II it served as an aircraft hangar and armory and, later, served as a venue for graduation ceremonies. It continues to house the Cornell ROTC programs. So, as you might imagine, this storied building gave the 973 runners (348 10K participants and 625 half marathoners) ample room to spread out, stretch, and prepare for their date with destiny. I can’t think of a more ideal location for pre-race staging, especially on this cold morning. Each of my pictures of Barton Hall turned out poorly, but kylereynolds at krsnaturalphoto’sblog captured some impressive shots of it in his write-up of the Skunk Cabbage. Nice job, Kyle!
As 10:00 AM neared, the half marathon runners walked en masse out the front doors of Barton Hall and to the adjacent start line. There was a nice crowd of supporters along both sides of the campus street. After saying good-bye to the Better Half, I slipped amidst the mid-packers. I confirmed with a young man behind me that this was, indeed, the half marathon (not the 10K), and we compared notes for a minute or so. I mentioned that I would be running the Sehgahunda Trail Marathon in May, and he said that his Dad was there two years ago, when it was “boiling hot.” I know! I was out there that day too, and, yes, it was a cauldron! The race director said a few indecipherable words up front, and, with little fanfare, we were off! Time to rock and roll! I love this sport!
For about the first half mile, I had trouble setting my stride, as I was dodging and weaving around duos and trios of runners. This race seemed to have a lot more young adult runners (i.e., college age) than some others that I have participated in over the last couple years, and they made for a lively, talkative, fun-loving crowd. Reviewing my splits on my Nike app, I see I ran the first mile in about 9 minutes, but once I got out in the open and established my race pace, I ran at about an 8 to 8’30” minute mile pace, with only mild variability. The young man I was speaking to at the start line assured me that this was a flat race, and, I suppose, compared to a race to the top of Pike’s Peak, it is. It is not that there were massive, intimidating climbs, but, rather, there was a near constant gradual rise or descent, with a couple big hills thrown in for variety.
Mile 6 was my fastest mile at 7’45”. Most of this mile was a fun, downhill trot, and I simply let gravity pull my legs forward. For awhile, I experienced the runner’s state of disassociation wherein one feels as though they are being transported by legs not one’s own. It was a nice break! You can guess what follows these long downhill sections. Yep! Long uphill runs that swapped out the state of disassociation for it’s opposite, what I might call “radical association”, in which I was acutely aware of the strain on my muscles, tendons, and skeleton as I pounded up those hills. I don’t need “mindfulness training” to appreciate the literal “here and now”; all I’ve got to do is run up each of these hills. Believe me, while running up the 588 feet of elevation gain across this course , I’m in the definite present!
This brings us back to that Mile 11, when the driving snow of a late spring squaw pelted my face. My sunglasses had been fogging up earlier in the race, so I had pushed them up onto the top of my head, but now I wanted them back in proper position to save my eyes from the sting of those snowflakes. Alas, in the midst of the temperature plunge that accompanied this squaw, the condensation on the lenses had turned to sheets of ice. I wouldn’t be able to see a thing with those on! I felt like I was in slow motion climbing that hill in those conditions, but, looking at my splits, I see I maintained an 8’30” pace, about the same as most of my other miles this day.
As I rolled up on that finish line, I turned on my version of the jets and ran through the chute at full capacity. I felt great! I came in at 1:48:04 (8’15” pace; 6 out of 27 in my age division and 118 out of 273 males). Back inside Barton, I stretched out, and the Better Half, who is a physical therapist (how perfect is that?), stretched me back into functionality.
Time for a hot cup of black coffee! My thanks to everyone at the Finger Lakes Running Club for a great race! Next up? My return to the Sehgahunda Trail Marathon in May. In the meantime, I’ll be training hard in anticipation of that challenge. Best wishes to all of you as you prepare for your running endeavors coming up this Spring!
2 thoughts on “The 37th Annual Skunk Cabbage Classic Half Marathon”
Congratulations on the race, Dan! Those conditions were certainly tough. Best of luck at Sehgahunda!
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