Rotary Ramble 5K, DeMotte, Indiana August 13, 2005.

Buck Hales

 

I passed a big test on August 13, though never in my running career would I have imagined that a 5K would be a test. I traveled to Demotte, Indiana with my good buddy Marilee Summers to run the Rotary Ramble which is held in conjunction with Dutch Days in DeMotte.  Keeping with the theme, the awards for the race are all wonderful wooden shoes, and they have prizes for more categories than you can imagine, including 2 weight divisions for Clydesdales and Athenas.  We arrived early in DeMotte, surrounded, literally by towering corn fields on all sides, a small town carved out of the corn.  It was raining. I mean it was RAINING. Marilee was afraid her mini-van would float away or get flooded there was so much rain pooling in the parking lot. At least it wasn't a cold rain.  Anything but!

             Registration for the race was unusual; we had to fill out computer bubble cards, filling in circles for each of the letters of your name. What a great idea-- no manual data entry!  And Clydesdale weigh-in was seamlessly incorporated into the packet pickup procedure. These Hoosiers do it right.  We noticed a huge number of teen and pre-teen runners-- all the cross country and student athletes from the local junior and senior highs. Several RunBig members made the race as it is on the RunBig competitive race circuit, a collection of Clydesdale races.  We readied ourselves for the run, I felt quite nervous, never really having to face this FEAR before in a race-- not knowing how it was going to be, good pain, or bad pain?  During my rehab I've thought a lot about the old saying "pain is my friend" yes, it is- but not the no pain, no gain of old, but what the saying really means is to listen to your pain. One has to learn which is the good pain, and which is the bad pain.  Running myself into multiple stress fractures in my knee is an example of not listening to the bad pain.  Enjoying the soreness one feels after a really good workout, that is the good pain.  It was a very hard lesson to learn.

            The start of the race was delayed as the rain lessened and the lightening subsided. As it began to clear the heat followed-- and by 8:50 when the race started it was getting steamy. The start was quite hectic, but while waiting for the gun to go off, Marilee and I made the acquaintance of young  Halie, an 11 year old girl from Chesterton who was already a veteran of many races.  We were quite amused by her antics, confidence and commentary.  Finally the race started after the race director warned us that if it starts lightening again, take cover if you want, but don't stand under a tree.  Sage advice.  Timers ready? G!. And we were off-- it was very chaotic, as the 700 some starters had to press to the middle of the road, Indiana 231, DeMotte's main street. The water in the gutter was running deep and fast so everyone was trying to avoid getting wetter.  Soon the course turned onto a more rural road and the field separated.  My initial nervousness, excitement and fear evolved into mental probing of my legs-- how am I doing? I started out a bit stiff, but plodded along. My goal was to break 30 minutes, as all my tread milling has been done at 6 mph or faster, and I was determined to adhere to my doctor’s advice, run a mile, and walk a minute. This is the 7th step of the "seven step" program for returning to running-- oddly like the AA 12 step program, only getting back to the addiction, instead of curing me of it.

            I motored on, enjoying the buzz of the experience, the crowd, and the high school football players who seemed to care less about the race, but were thoroughly enjoying the event. They would walk 8 abreast blocking the road, then run like crazy for a few hundred yards, and then resume walking. A very odd mix of all ages and levels of interest, a very good group of hard core runners, lots of big fast Clydesdales and Athenas, many quite elderly runners, and then all these kids. Dutch Days brought them all out. What else is there to do in DeMotte, anyway?  I reached the first mile, felt quite comfortable, as the clock ticked 9:30.  I dutifully walked for about 50 seconds, and resumed my plod. Mile two had the only bit of elevation, hardly a hill at all, but I charged it and felt a bit of a surge in me way down deep, a sleeping tiger in there rousing.  Mile 2 was 10:06 which included the minute walk. During the next mile I fell in with some local runners, listened to their banter, talking about their scheduled 15 miler the next day and training for the marathon. no wonder they were going this slow. Which marathon I asked, Chicago of course. of course.  I ran past another squad of high school boys just as one of the spectators yelled "Go football".  Somehow I felt like I was in a John Melencamp song.

            One last turn, another coach like character was yelling "600 yards to go, dig it out!", and I pushed ahead. Mile 3-- 10:03 with the walk interval at the mile 2 marker. I saw the finish line and without batting an eye kicked--I sprinted the last 100 yards and felt nothing but elation.  Holy cats! A bit of the old Bucky Burst!  30:27. I have never in my life been so pleased to have run a 5 K so slow! Marilee bested me by several minutes and commented that my running style had changed so completely she didn't even recognize me now.  My new form of running could be described as “running from the center,” drawing on the core and postural muscles to protect my knees—pushing more with my heels while keeping myself drawn up, running taller and more up right.   While I was running I kept going through the drills that Dr. Nicola had given me, crossing over so that I was running on a narrow line; kicking the ball in front of me, so that I ran like a drum major; toeing off pulling the ground out from below me.  All of these drills made my long rehab bearable. As I progressed from crutches, to walking with the brace, all my therapy done on my back and side, to being able to stand on both feet, to walking, then the treadmill-- graduating to the 7 step program starting with 30 seconds of running and 3 minutes of walking, progressing to 1 minute running and 3 minutes walking, then 1:2, then 2:2, then 2:1, 3:1, 5:1 and at last, 9:1.  I will not graduate from this program, my prospects have me staying at 9:1 for the foreseeable future-- and I am glad to comply....

            Marilee and waited to see the awards ceremony, saw Halie win a big shoe for coming in 2nd in her age group. Watched the Clydes win awards for running sub 20 times, and enjoyed the increasingly warmer day.  After the race I felt no pain or distress-- though I'd run up to 5 mile in my rehab, the intensity of running in a race is really hard to simulate running on your own.  Considering that the initial prognosis was that I would never run again, and that if I was going to do a marathon again I would have to power walk it-- to now being able to actually run, well, it was just great.  During the dark months as last year came to a close, while I was on crutches, not knowing if I'd ever run again, suffering through the angst of the horrific presidential election, seeing runners and both hating and envying them-- exhorting them to enjoy it while they can. To now-- running again!  Riding my bike to work has really been great for the therapy, the Pilates, the form drills, it is beginning to pay off. I am guardedly optimistic about my long term prospects, knowing that being able to run is a privilege, a gift, nothing to be taken for granted. I am going to spend this currency carefully.