• Home
• About the SRRC
• Club Events
• Club Officers
• Contact Us
• Find a Running Buddy
• Group Fun Runs
• Links
• Photo Gallery
• Race Reports
• Running Calendar
• SRRC Membership
• Training
• Where to Run

Questions? Comments? Contact us: srrunner@srrunners.org

SRRC Race Reports

Shamrock Half Marathon: Virginia Beach, VA--March 19, 2006
by Alison Gittelman

Kathy and I are sitting next to a nice warm fire at the Virginia Beach Courtyard Marriott. I don’t want to go outside. It’s cold. And windy. I can see the ocean from my cozy chair—there are whitecaps. (OK, so we don’t have to go IN the ocean, but still.) We have to go outside. It’s 6:30am. The race starts in 30 minutes, and Kathy has learned that I am Type A when it comes to races. We’ve been up since 5:00, got ourselves a nice parking spot at 5:45, and now we’re, well, not exactly champing at the bit. When we decided to run the Half Marathon in Virginia Beach, we imagined cool sea breezes, not frigid temperatures and gusts that would certainly take your beach umbrella away, if you were mad enough actually to be ON the beach.

We finally muster the courage to head outside. Then we decide it really is cold and windy so we head for the 7-11 across the street. The shop is bursting with what must be half of the race participants, none of whom are buying anything, although those donuts do look tasty. We make a final decision on how many layers we can bear to part with (I opt to lose the headband but keep the gloves, and Kathy parts with one of four layers) and head for the very organized bag drop. Bag dropped, we move to the race start. A mix-up in predicted finishing times resulted in Kathy being placed in corral 4 and me in corral 1, and, since the race organizers wouldn’t let her move up, I reluctantly decided to join her in corral 4. Our plan is to mow down anyone who gets in our way. However, when we near the start I notice that nobody is checking that runners are in the correct corrals, so we select a spot of sun in corral 2 and try to keep warm. This race uses chip timing but, instead of the cool ChampionChip that we’re used to wearing, we’ve been given a gross velcro band that holds a useless-looking piece of plastic, and which we have to wear around our ankles. During our warm up the band was seriously rubbing my ankle, so I followed Kathy’s ingenious idea to wind the band around my laces until I have a huge blob of velcro on top of my shoe. We were both glad we did this as, at the end of the race, the first-aid area was full of people receiving treatment for bleeding ankles. Ouch.

After a nice rendition of the National Anthem and a flyover by two fighter jets (very cool), we’re off. The Hash House Harriers have set up a beer station, but we politely decline. At one mile, a spectator shouts, “You’re almost there!” which has everyone laughing.  The course is flat as a pancake, and a bit boring. I find myself looking at the quaint beach houses as we wend our way North on Pacific Avenue. For the first few miles we work our way past people and get into a rhythm. Kathy and I have planned to run 8:30 min. miles. Our first mile was an 8:40, but we’ve since picked up the pace and are now running just over 8:00 minutes per mile. We agree to back off a little since it’s so early, but neither one of us does. We both feel good and so we just keep going. Support is good but thin. As we head onto tree-lined Shore drive, the support is limited to the scout troops, who have some nice signs lining the road.

At around 5 miles we come across Dorothy and some other characters from the Wizard of Oz, who were no doubt blown here by the fierce winds, which have been against us all the way to this point. Fortunately, we’re about to start a loop that will eventually have us heading South and I’m looking forward to feeling the wind at my back for the second part of the race. We head onto Fort Story Army training facility, which I had no idea we’d be running through. Do they know I’m not a US Citizen?! Support here is infrequent (and limited to soldiers since no-one else is allowed on base) but VERY loud. Those soldiers know how to scream. There’s also a guy playing disco and dancing along to it, which puts me in a good mood for a while. One of the scout troops has lined the route with hilarious signs such as Got Band-Aid, Got Vaseline, Got Water, and I find myself looking forward to each sign. I’m concentrating really hard on not thinking about running. My quads started to burn at mile 5 and I’m not looking forward to how they’re going to feel at mile 10. Kathy has fallen silent. At mile 7 I ask her how she’s doing. I can’t recall what she said but it wasn’t much. Despite the lack of conversation we’re still keeping one another company, and we’re still running just over 8 minutes per mile. Just before we head off the base we hear “Come on Eileen,” which is one of my favorite songs and so I sing that for a bit to keep myself going. It’s amazing how music can positively impact your running. I have never run with headphones but now I realize why so many people do.

We now have about 4 miles left, which is 3 too many for me. I lose Kathy when we encounter Dorothy for the second time, but I’m sure she’s right behind me so I soldier on. The aching quads have become burning quads. The weird thing is that nothing else hurts. In fact, everything else feels pretty good, including my stomach, which has failed me in several races this year. But it’s the quads that are talking to me now. I ignore them and enjoy the spectators, especially the elderly couple sitting in folding chairs and wrapped in blankets. They look like they rolled out of bed and got straight into the chairs, and I wonder if they’re still in their pajamas under the blankets. We’re at 67th street and the finish is at 30th. I begin to count blocks, which is a desperate and bad idea. It takes an eternity to reach 57th. I decide to look at other things, such as the Hash House Harriers, who have now written BEER on the ground in chalk, with a big arrow to their beer table. I might be tempted if the sign said STRETCHER. Kathy has caught up with me again and provides the inspiration I need to maintain the pace. (And she thought I was pushing her…)

There are many soldiers in the last few miles shouting various things at us. Everything is starting to become a blur. We turn onto Atlantic Avenue and now we’re really in the home stretch. I keep glancing at my GPS watch to see how far we have to go, but I guess the tall buildings are blocking the satellite and it starts to warn me that it’s losing the signal. That’s funny - I feel the same way. We turn onto the boardwalk and I see the statue of Neptune, which is at the finish, and I start to pick up the pace. I notice that the statue is either very small or very far away. Nevertheless, the support on the boardwalk is excellent and so I just keep trucking, glancing at my watch and hoping I can stay under 1:47. I finally see the finish banner and start to sprint. I cross the line in 1:46:43 and Kathy finishes 15 seconds later. We’re both pretty delirious. Once we’ve received our medals and hats and have been de-chipped, we head for the refreshments on the beach, which include Killians beer. Unfortunately, I discover that beer tastes awful (to me) after running. I guess I’ll never be a hasher.

March 2006

The SRRC would love to hear about your running, racing, or crewing experiences! If you would like to submit a race report, to be posted on the SRRC website, please email srrunner@srrunners.org.