Spinx Run Fest Review
When I opened the door to let my dog outside at 5 am last Saturday morning, I knew I was going to get wet. It was foggy. Advanced fog. The kind of fog that is really just a heavy drizzle. It stayed that way most of the morning, until it started raining in earnest. Oh well, it wasn’t the first race I’ve done in the rain, and I doubt it will be the last. I decided to be thankful that it wasn’t 103 degrees and sunny, like it was on the Assault on Mt Mitchell race, but that is a story for another day…
This race is in my hometown of Greenville, SC, and is sponsored by a regional chain of gas stations: The Spinx Corporation. They do a half marathon and 5K and the rumor is that a marathon distance will be returning next year, after a hiatus. So on to the race details…
I found some friends of mine and shuffled to the line fully prepared for a slogfest. The fog lifted about the time the gun went off and hung around just high enough to get you completely soaked within the first mile. Miles number 1 and 2 were all about dodging traffic and trying to find a place to run without trampling or being trampled. It’s actually fine because it gives you something to do while you warm up and get going. It also has the nasty tendency to pull you off of your pace, which everyone knows is a stupid thing to do. Go out too fast and blow up; it’s a rookie mistake but probably happens 80 – 90% of the time. The clock at the 2 mile marker read 14:30 as I passed it. Oh crap. I was planning on running 8:45 to 9:00 miles as marathon prep. I was running 7:15′s. “Slow it way down big fella”, I said to myself. “But everyone will pass me”, I replied. “How many people will pass you when you crack in about 4 miles?”, I exchanged. “All of them.”, I finally relented. I slowed it down and settled in. I knew the course well and there was plenty of nastiness toward the end of the course so I needed to keep something in the tank.
The next 6 or 7 miles were fairly uneventful. Just running and breathing, trying to relax and run with good form. One of my friends caught up to me at the half-way point. She had lost the others around the 2nd mile and was running solo. We ran down through the park and up through the start of the nastiness. She kept griping about the pace but when I offered to slow it down, she wouldn’t let up. She was testing me, as I soon found out. We hit the first significant hill at mile 9ish and she floated up it like a butterfly. I lumbered up it like someone walking through a graveyard where zombies are constantly grabbing your ankles. Somehow I managed to stay on pace. An oasis had formed atop the hill in the form of a water station. I stepped aside and grabbed a cup. My so-called friend saw that she was now 3 steps ahead of me and that I was trying to drink and she decided that now would be a good time to gun it. She-devil. Over the course of the next 2 miles, most of which were hills, I saw her get smaller and smaller as she slowly pulled away. That is the worst site ever. The moral of this story is two-fold: 1. Never believe a woman that says she is struggling in a race and 2. Never, under any circumstances, race a woman up hills. As I crested the last big hill, I had decided on either a flaming bag of dog-poo or a midnight house TP as a congratulatory gift for her. That settled, I turned my thoughts back to the remaining few miles.
It was here that the rain kicked in. I was already wet from sweating in 100% humidity so, it actually felt nice. Once your feet get wet it doesn’t really matter anymore anyway. It was a 5k to the finish line from here. I passed the clock at mile 11 and it read: 1:41. Dang, those hills had punched me in the pants and it was now jeopardizing my goal of sub 2 hours. Time to pick it up. As my pace quickened, people were turning completely around to see what was breathing like a yak coming up behind them. It must have been similar to what the bull runners in Pamplona experience. No time for pride, I was in a rhythm. In-in-ooouuuttt, rinse, repeat. Turning the last few corners on to the last road, I was in a full sprint and it was hurting. My form was no longer a concern, I just had to get to that stupid line in under 2 hours. I had lost too much time in the middle miles, especially the last two in the hills.
This race ends inside the stadium, at home plate of the Greenville Drive minor league baseball team. They are a Red Sox farm team and we have a Green Monster out in left field (see below). So, yeah, anyway, I hit the line and looked for the clock but the 5K clock was up instead. Buzzkill. I found out later that afternoon, when results were posted online, that I had missed my 2 hour goal by 14 stupid seconds. What makes is worse is that my watch said 1:58. Ripped off? Probably but, whatcha gonna do? I should have run faster so that there would have been no issue. Thanks for playing, try again… Oh well, I had a good time and a got another medal for the collection. I’ll do this again, probably the marathon next year. This is a good race and I recommend it if you are close to SC.
If you ever come to Greenville, SC, you should know that Shoeless Joe Jackson is from Greenville. He is buried across town and to this day, people leave notes and baseballs and other things at his grave. We love him. Do not disparage Joe around these parts or you will be searching for an emergency dental clinic. They moved Joe’s house a few miles to right outside the gates of the stadium. It is a museum now and is a really cool place to visit. Check out the website here: Shoeless Joe Jackson Museum
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