I was drawn to the Nolichucky 5K River Run for several reasons. It is one of those rare afternoon 5K races, and I’ve been wanting to check out the Erwin Linear Trail for awhile. But to be honest it was the promise of a flat course that really got me out the door and in the van for the ride over to Erwin, TN. I had begun to see results from the short interval sessions in my training plan. It was time once more to see what kind of speed I could manage in the 5K distance.
A moderate downpour was in progress as I arrived at the race site. I was surprised at the popularity of the event. I arrived about 30 minutes before the start and got one of the last parking spots in the field beside the hotel. I just had enough time to pick up my race packet, getting my bib number on my race belt, hit the men’s room at the nearby convenience store, complete my dynamic running warmups and jog the parking lot a few times. The 4:00 pm start time arrived. The rain abated. The police moved into position, turned on their lights and gave us temporary possession of the access road.
The runners lined up behind the timing mat. The race director gave everyone his instructions including a warning to watch the footing on the wooden bridge given the rain. The horn sounded, and there was the familiar surge of motion and adrenalin. For once I seemed to have picked a good spot in the crowd and avoided the run, walk, run walk pattern that so often begins a race. We ran down Temple Hill Road, turned right onto Jackson Love Highway crossing over South Indian Creek. Then a immediate left put us on South Industrial Drive as we ran parallel to the Erwin Linear Trail.
I went out fast, hoping to set and hold a brisk pace. I’ve struggled with injuries the last couple years and needed some affirmation that I was improving. Every quarter mile or so I had to throttle back a bit. I was beginning to wonder if I had been too optimistic. Runners passed me in a steady stream, and I realized that I may have positioned myself too close to the start line.
Then my Garmin buzzed at the the first mile. I took a quick glance and then did one of those double takes reminiscent of a Three Stooges episode. It was the fastest mile I’d run since I got my Garmin a year ago. Slow by almost anyone’s standards but I was sub 11:00 mile for the first time in years. I struggled to hold as close to that pace as I could.
I began to see runners streaming back going the other way on the trail, confirming that they indeed are at least twice as fast as me. I noticed that one man was running shirtless and was taken aback for a moment. After a few seconds thought I realized that if I had abs like that I wouldn’t wear shirts outside of the workplace either.
By now the pack had settled for the most part, and I noticed the runners around me. Two women running with a dog have been with me for awhile. A young girl wearing a bandana passes me for the fourth or fifth time. It’s odd she blazes past at speed and then walks until I pass her back. We will leapfrog each other at least half dozen more times before the finish line. Off to my right I notice a railway worker hooking freight cars together. It’s overcast and cool. It’s a great day. I’m running well. I’m almost euphoric.
We reach the end of the road. A race volunteer directs us onto the Erwin Linear Trail itself. In about 50 yards we reach a gazebo, and another race volunteer directs to turn left. We are headed back toward the finish line. The smooth paved trail unwinds beneath our feet. At this point I somehow get a pebble wedged into the tread of my shoe. I ignore it thinking it will fall out after a few strides. About 100 yards later, I stop beside a utility pole and pick it out. I just couldn’t take the scrapping sound every time my left shoe touched down.
We come to a long wooden bride cutting diagonally across the edge of a pond. I remember the warning about slipping on the wet wood. My footing is firm. I hear my and other runners footfalls on the boards, look out over the rail at the rippling surface of the pond, feel a refreshing breeze and smell the faint earthy aroma that says wetlands. It is a moment of transcendence. For a few fleeting seconds I’m not concerned about pace or running mechanics or other runners.
The bridge ends, the trail turns right. We enter a long straight section. I can see runners ahead for at least a quarter mile. They form an uninterrupted stream of neon colored shapes stretching along the trail. The trail curves to the left as it rejoins the creek and the bridge at Jackson Love Highway comes into view. We are nearing the finish line.
At the bridge I encounter the one slight, short hill back up onto the bridge. It is a speed bump compared to the hills I regularly run on the Tusculum trail. I feel the effort of climbing it more than I think I should and guess it’s because I’m running faster than my usual training pace. After the bridge we make the turn back onto Temple Hill Road.
The hotel and the finish line in it’s parking lot are in sight. A young woman passes me but does not pull away. I fix myself on her shoulder and plan to stay there until the turn into the parking lot. Yes I’m getting competitive about whether I come in 202nd or 203rd out of a field of nearly 300. Silly, irrelevant and yet incredibly important just for that one moment. After about 50 yards I somehow sense that she doesn’t have much left, so I bolt past, make the turn and thunder through the arch arms raised. I check the Garmin and confirm that this is my fastest 5K race in years. I pause briefly to take photos of runners at the finish line. A race volunteer hands me a bottle of water, and I take it with me on my cool down run.
Post race I opt to skip the barbeque and festivities. My daughter is home from college for the weekend, and the forecast is cloudy with a 75% chance of quesadillas. Stumble on.
