State Number 35
– Rehoboth Beach Marathon
Rehoboth Beach,
DE
2 December 2017
When I envision the word impulse, I hark back to lessons learned in high school physics and
college dynamics. One can define it as
the product of the average value of a force and the time interval during which
it acts, or a change in momentum produced by some external force. Webster; however, defines impulse as “a sudden spontaneous
inclination or incitement to some usually unpremeditated action.”
Over the previous months, I let it be known that I had
Rehoboth Beach Marathon on my radar. To
say that registering and traveling to this marathon was an impulse decision is
an understatement. Impulse control is
never easy and often, an impulse can seem strong enough to override common
sense.
With that in mind, six days before marathon Saturday,
my wife and I struggled with an impulse and decided on a whim we should crank
out another state before year’s end.
Even though the late entry fee was somewhat steep, we committed
ourselves for a weekend getaway in the resort community of Rehoboth Beach along
Delaware’s eastern shore. Call us
Maniacs, but I believe it is our obsession to hurry up and get these states
done! Besides, knocking off Delaware
will permit us to improve our efficiency in implementing our plan to complete
the remaining states by 2020. So, would
this impulse override proper judgment or good ol’ fashion horse sense?
Since my last marathon in South Dakota, I’ve ramped up
my training consisting of Yasso 800s, intervals and faster five or six mile
tempo runs supplemented with two local half marathons separated a week apart. With most of my ailments seemingly behind me,
I grew excited and looked forward to this marathon.
In my previous treatise recapping 2017, I inferred
that I was all ears if anyone could show me a road to excitement to our
nation’s “First State” on the Delmarva Peninsula. Anticipation consumed my desire to run
Rehoboth similar to a child on Christmas morning – well, maybe that’s bit of a stretch.
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| Sunrise on Delmarva |
Initially, I questioned my capacities and talents whether
I could successfully complete a marathon on such short notice. Mentally, I wasn’t quite ready to travel on a
whim and my long runs were only thirteen miles; however, my shorter training
runs and speed work went well enough giving me the impression I was near
marathon ready. With that in mind, I mentally
prepared myself to challenge and tame another 26.2-mile beast.
We departed LAX on a non-stop 2,325-mile Spirit Airlines
red-eye flight on 30 November arriving at Baltimore (BWI) around 0425 (EST)
Friday morning (much earlier than expected).
To kill some time before picking up our rental car, we attempted to
catch a few Zs by lying on some bench seating, but all we could muster was
eavesdropping on idle chitchat between a Chinese fellow and a Hindi woman while
they waited for their flight to Toronto, ON.
As time drew nigh, we caught the rental car facility
shuttle bus and comfortably seated ourselves in a mid-sized rental car uniquely
crafted by Hyundai and proceeded along an easterly course through some rural highways
and byways to Rehoboth Beach, DE some 2.5 hours away. On a side note, marathon day comes nearly 230
years to the day of Delaware statehood.
Shortly before reaching the Delaware state line,
Mother Nature treated us to a beautiful sunrise peeking through and above the
low thin wispy layers of tule fog suspended in the air over the moisture laden
Delmarva farmlands.
Rehoboth Beach, a picturesque Atlantic coastal resort
city of around 1,500 permanent residents, swells to over 20,000 during the peak
summer season. It is evident that the
city encourages the preservation of the Victorian influences despite the growth
of Delaware’s Cape Region. From what I
noticed, the city retains the warm and friendly charm and ambiance reflecting
the region’s historic past.
Friday morning turned out to be a sunny clear day but
with bone-chilling winds that lanced through our protective layers of clothing.
In Dewey Beach, a couple of miles south of Rehoboth
Beach, the kind staff at our hotel allowed us a very early check in, plus, a
sampling of their complimentary breakfast before wrapping up for the day. It was definitely a treat, and perfect for a
well-deserved morning nap in advance of the event’s afternoon packet pick-up.
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| Silver Lake |
Following a not-so-lovely lunch stop, we walked a few
blocks to the event tent near the finish line to obtain our race swag and wristband
needed to enjoy the after party merriments.
Registering late for an event can come with an unintended consequence. We were each assigned half marathon bibs, but
encoded for the full marathon. It certainly
gave other marathoners the appearance we were a half marathon participant. I just had to wait to see if anyone would
question my presence on the marathon course.
The cold blustery weather was too hostile for walking
the town, boardwalk or the strand. I am
not sure if it was just because of the race, but the downtown area and the
boardwalk was still surprisingly active for December. The numerous shops
and restaurants lining Rehoboth Avenue were still open and doing everything
they could to attract and accommodate the out of town visitors standing up to
the cold, providing a little enhancement to their local off-season economy.
I don’t know what it is with marathon day eve. Over the years, I found that getting adequate
sleep before a marathon is nearly an impossible act. Our room was tucked away on a quiet side of
the building, so noise was not an issue.
Perhaps it’s some cosmic force shaping our destinies as Nicola Tesla surmises,
or it could be I was too exhausted, or maybe its nerves, but I “awakened” at
0545 not feeling any more revitalized than the day before. Besides, I wasn’t going to let that encumber
my morale.
We fortified ourselves with our cold weather apparel,
grabbed a couple of bananas, a water bottle and a granola bar from the hotel
lobby and headed up the Coast Highway early enough to find a convenient parking
spot along Rehoboth Avenue not far from the finish line. Yes, it’s the little things.
Over 2000 jubilant and ecstatic marathon and half
marathon runners amassed on the sidewalks as everyone made their way to the
start line corral adjacent to the bandstand.
Prior to start time, some runners decided to shelter themselves in a
nearby Dunkin’ Donuts, not to placate their sweet tooth on some doughnuts while
chasing it down with a cup of coffee, but to use their one and only
restroom. The line was too long, so we
decided to sacrifice our need to go hoping the urge would dissipate once we
began running. Moreover, it was warm
inside.
It was clear and cold with pockets of frost in the
wind sheltered areas. I was dressed for the
cold and it was the perfect running weather for me.
I arrived at the starting line with a modicum of
confidence. It was the blue hour of the
morning with the sky taking on a colorful spectacle. The indirect sunlight tinted the sky over the
Atlantic Ocean yellow, orange, red and hues of blue, a far cry from the
previous day’s partly cloudy skies with the piercing numbing breezes left by
the passing cold front.
A light variable chilly breeze paraded down Rehoboth
Avenue, making us all realize that it is December. Even with the chilly prospects of a cold early
winter run, I could still feel the warmth and excitement in the crowd. With some participants sporting jackets,
sweatshirts or plastic garbage bags draped over their shoulders in an effort to
stay warm, others braved the cold donning only singlets and shorts.
After the presentation of the colors and the singing
of our great National Anthem, it was game time.
Let’s do this! I reached into my
pocket of goodies, pulled out and put on my game face. With some much improved training under my
belt, I was ready to take on the day with a good feeling and complete with a
positive outlook, something I had lacked during my previous two marathons. For once, I didn’t consider this marathon a
glorious long run, but something I could take serious.
Being this is the marathon’s tenth anniversary, I envisioned
marathon veteran and race staple Larry Macon to be huddled in a bright red,
long-sleeved shirt among the 1000 or so marathon runners, waiting for race
organizer Mary Ellen to signal the start. Apparently, Larry had other plans, he was in
Texas running and celebrating his 2000th marathon with numerous friends and
supporters.
A fire truck from the city’s fire department sounded
the siren. It was go time!
Ordinarily, as I run down the final homestretch of a
marathon, I could care less if runners pass and beat me to the finish. I’m normally depleted of energy and anxious
to finish and eager to close out another chapter in my running journey. For Rehoboth, I thought I would give this
marathon a “military-esque” code name.
I’m calling it “Operation Let-No-One-Pass-Me.”
It’s a given runners will pass me over the course of
the long miles, but the thrill of passing runners in the last 500 meters or so
gives me the illusion of winning a race and the thrill of making the famed left
turn onto Boston’s Boylston Street, being the first to break the tape. I’m going to make it a point to let no one
pass me in the final closing meters of this marathon – hence the code name.
Once on our way, the 2,600 runners dashed down
Rehoboth Avenue and were treated to delightful, flat stretches of city and
coastal roads and trails.
I sustained an 8:35 per mile pace feeling great. Running seemed effortless and unrestricted,
feeling as if I could maintain an eight minute pace, but knowing I had a long
way to go, I restrained myself for those first few miles.
My plan was to go out fast and hit the half marathon
split in around two hours. The course
was flat and fast, and shared with the cool weather, a two-hour split was very
attainable.
For the first three miles, runners dashed through the architecturally
exquisite neighborhood of Henlopen Acres along Ocean Drive, catching glimpses
of and appreciating a beautiful sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean, to the
entrance of Cape Henlopen State Park, clocking in at the three-mile intermediate
time of 25:44.
This point marked the beginning of the pedestrian/bike
trail meandering through the savannah-like grass marshes and maritime forested
areas dominated by oak and pine trees in the Gordon Pond Wildlife Area, a FEMA
designated Otherwise Protected Area.
From that point, the half marathon runners high-tailed
it back towards Rehoboth while the marathoners continued along the partially
paved and decomposed granite compacted surfaced Gordon’s Pond Trail for the
next four miles into historic Ft. Miles, a World War II military
installation. This interesting historic
point features abandoned barracks, bunkers, look-out towers, and sizable guns
and canons that once protected Delaware Bay from enemy naval forces.
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| Guards stationed at Ft. Miles |
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| Viaduct |
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| Viaduct |
I wanted to stop and read the historic markers before
continuing on, but with the time-sensitive mission I was undertaking, I decided
to educate myself at a later time.
A nearly one-half mile long wood viaduct elevated
runners above the marshy ground; however, due to the cold morning temperatures,
the frost covered surface of the plastic deck grates made running a challenging
task.
Well, what do you know? Two runners approached and asked me if I was
a half marathon runner, seeing that I had the wrong color bib for the full
marathon. Once I explained, they
understood, but were concerned that if I was a half runner, I would be in for a
wicked surprise.
Following a brief out-and-back at Marathon Mile 7,
runners were treated to a spectacular view of the ocean and one of the large
concrete bunkers overlooking the bay. The
last mile led runners out of the park connecting with some city streets towards
the city of Lewes and the Cape May-Lewes ferry terminal, doubling back at the sought
after Dairy Queen landmark at Marathon Mile 10.
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| One of many lookout towers |
A different trail took runners back through the state
park passing through some of the grassy dunes and by one of the several
look-out towers once used by military personnel stationed at Ft. Miles, joining
the original trail just short of Marathon Mile 13.
I crossed the intermediate timing mat at the half split
in a time of 2:02:47. Not what I had
expected, but satisfying nonetheless. Maybe
it’s because I am used to pacing 2:10 half marathons and my legs are used to
that happy pace.
I sustained a comfortable 9:20 pace as I made my way
back to Ocean Drive. The miles of
Gordon’s Pond Trail surprisingly did not bore me. I was concerned I would be fraught with
boredom, but there was always something to see, hear or smell in the cool refreshing
forested air.
The viaduct had enough time to dry out by my second
time around and was no longer a vulnerability to runners. I was still feeling good and had no desire to
involve myself in one of my walking stints common with my previous marathons. I focused on my form, posture, arm movement
and reveling the fact that a sub-five hour marathon was once again conceivable.
That alone was the motivation I needed
to endure the second half, knowing that I will likely need to play some mind
games to get through some of the later miles.
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| Love the lighthouse |
Once off Ocean Drive, the course proceeded down
Columbia Avenue, but first a police officer questioned whether I was a half
runner as I rounded the street corner. I
kindly said that I wasn’t but I was a late entry without the distinctive
marathon colored bib. He was just
checking. What was he going to do, DQ me
for running a race I wasn’t registered for, or was I in for a rude awakening?
The Columbia Avenue diagonal leads straight to the city’s
traffic circle. Adorned with a replica
of a lighthouse in the center, it serves as a navigational aid and beacon guiding
all visitors to the city.
Just before I advanced towards the traffic circle, I observed
the lead female runner sprinting by me, grimacing, obviously in pain, likely
focused on finishing in under three hours.
Spectators, as well as runners going in the opposite direction, cheered
her on while offering encouraging words.
At that point, I wasn’t sure if she made that impressive time goal or
not.
A block ahead, runners approached the single-leaf bascule
bridge spanning the Lewes-Rehoboth Canal, a fragment of the Intracoastal
Waterway. While crossing the bridge, I
had to carefully monitor my footing on the heavy duty steel-grate decking
panels used to support vehicular traffic. I considered the large “gaps” in the deck panels
a trip hazard waiting to happen. Maybe running
on the sidewalk was a safer alternative.
Runners then followed a short run of city streets to
the Junction & Breakwater Trail, an old abandoned railroad grade transformed
to an unpaved pedestrian/bike trail, at Marathon Mile 20, more or less.
This two-mile long out-and-back scenic trail, similar
to the one highlighting Gordon’s Pond, showcased some of the region’s salt
marshes and forested lands. It is a
predominately shaded section of the course, which I valued.
I approached Marathon Mile 21 with a bit of
enthusiasm. I could hear music and a man
over a PA system announcing the names of runners and from where they
hailed. I had in mind it was the
turnaround spot – but it wasn’t. It kind
of killed my morale, but I kept plugging along looking forward to the
turnaround unsure just how far up the trail it really was.
State flags suspended above the trail at the “music
spot” symbolized all the states represented in the race. Actually, it kind of reminded me of
Minnesota’s Run for the Lakes Marathon (State No. 15) in which Old Glory drapes
over the roadway.
Since the man did not announce my name as I came
through, I believed at the moment he was acknowledging the returning runners. The trail went on and on seemingly with no
end in sight. My pace had slowed
somewhat, but I was still feeling pretty good, constantly monitoring and
estimating my finish time like I was late for some kind of appointment. As I alluded to earlier, I needed to resort
to some mind games to get me through some the difficult miles on the trail.
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| Salt Marsh along Junction & Breakwater Trail |
At last, the turnaround at Marathon Mile 22. A new timing checkpoint (in at 3:43:46) as
well as an uplifting sight. A nice man
from New York said he drove to Delaware to “hand out free high-fives” which I
gladly accepted. It was now time to head
back to the barn on the same path from whence I came.
As I drew closer to the flags, I was curious if the
announcer guy would say my hometown name correctly (which doesn’t usually
happen). He didn’t even acknowledge me. That was anticlimactic. My bib number was visible. I was taking a little energy-saving
break. What was the problem? I bet he would have put the wrong emPHAsis on
the wrong sylLABle anyway.
The next mile and a half seemed to fly by. Before I realized it, I was back on the city
streets, once again crossing the bascule bridge, around the traffic circle significantly
picking up my pace for the final half mile.
It was time to set “Operation Let-No-One-Pass-Me” in motion.
I veered right onto Kent Street secretly marking
runners I needed to overtake. My
internal voice told me I could do it. The
crowd went wild, well maybe not that wild, but the cheering spectators, whether
for me or not, erased away any and all the pain I experienced.
I pass one – then several
more. A right turn onto Fourth Street,
there’s the finish line gantry just ahead.
Sneaking up from behind, I overtook two more and then the final one
finishing in a time of 4:36:10. Victory! The operation was a success.
After all was said and done, we drove back to our
hotel, packed up our belongings and walked a portion of the Dewey Beach strand,
while I focused my attention to some of the elevated homes constructed in
FEMA’s coastal V zone. All I could see
were violations. That’s another topic
for another day.
Age graded
score: 51.01%
Age graded
time: 4:01:02
Average time:
4:21:17
Standard deviation: 0:53:01
I was thrilled – a sub-five hour marathon performance. Hopefully the struggles I endured from the
previous two marathons are behind me and I can once again direct my attention
to improving my times.
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| The medal! |
A volunteer placed the fashionable and distinguished finisher’s
medal highlighting an anchor tucked behind a lifebuoy around my neck as another
volunteer handed me a mylar thermal blanket.
I made doubly sure it was a marathon medal, by the way.
I snatched a bottle of water from the multitudes of
half-liter bottles stacked upon a pallet and met up with my wife in the
after-party tent adjacent to The Cultured Pearl to engage in some post-race revelries
and festivities. For those who enjoy a
crowdless and less stressful scene, the top deck of The Cultured Pearl
restaurant next door served that purpose.
The amount of delicious food provided at the buffet
table surprised me – aluminum containers full of bacon, sausage, pancakes,
hamburgers, BBQ pulled pork, mac and cheese, potato salad, hot dogs, chips,
salad, vegetables, fruit, soft drinks, water and chocolate milk. One of the title sponsors, Dogfish Head Craft
Brewery, tapped their locally brewed IPA beer to each participant over 21. I’m not much of a craft beer enthusiast, so I
decided to divest myself of my three-cup ration. Given the volume of beer being consumed, it
remains to be seen if the kegs ultimately ran dry, but it made me happy to see there
was enough food and drink to go around for all to enjoy. I cannot overlook what happened in Sioux Falls.
Moving about the crowded tent heaving with people made
the freedom of movement a challenging undertaking. With a local DJ spinning the vinyl, runners who
consumed a little too many cups of adult beverages danced and sang at the same
time releasing some of their inhibitions.
It wasn’t hard to notice that everyone favored the classics like AC/DC,
Styx, Duran Duran, Journey and Neil Diamond over today’s pop and hip-hop music
genre – I sure did.
Maybe it’s a sign of old age, but I thought the music
inside the tent was a tad too loud. It didn’t reach the pain
threshold, but the decibel level was certainly elevated. The top deck of The Cultured Pearl appeared
to be much more serene and relaxing, although it could be a little chilly
sitting high atop the outdoor veranda, especially with wet clothes. I imagine those patrons clearly heard and
enjoyed the music, but in a much more relaxing atmosphere.
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| Enclosed area with breakaway walls? |
No marathon production is perfect. Each and every one, big or small, has
something that could be improved upon, Rehoboth Beach is no exception. However, I would rank this marathon near the
top of my favorites list. Kudos to Mary
Beth and her crew for an outstanding job organizing this event. Also, I cannot forget and thank the army of
volunteers who graced their presence coming out early on a chilly Saturday
morning to make this event possible. Fifty-Staters
should seriously consider making Rehoboth Beach their Delaware marathon
destination.
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| Dusk on the Bay Bridge over Chesapeake Bay into Annapolis |
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| Maryland Sunset |
Before leaving town, we enjoyed a slice of pizza from the
renowned Nicola Pizza, perused through some of the charming old-world shops and
boutiques before moseying up the back roads delighting in Delmarva’s rural
landscape and catching a fabulous Delmarva sunset on our way back to Baltimore –
the sunset of another delightful marathon adventure.
Following an early Sunday morning flight back to LAX,
we arrived at our humble place of abode a little fatigued and exhausted, not to
mention a bit stiff, but appreciative of our spur-of-the-moment excursion. On a side note, TSA screeners at BWI flagged
our bags at security because of our finisher’s medals. According to them, they had sharp edges. I wouldn’t disagree, look at the anchor
points. Something to think about for next
time, but I’m glad they let them through.
Overall, for anyone considering a nice, small to
medium sized marathon, but big on great food and crowd support on a beautiful
scenic, flat course with cool temperatures thrown in for good measure (for
those who loathe running in the heat), I whole-heartily endorse the Rehoboth
Beach Marathon.
In retrospect, I honestly don’t believe this impulse
race challenged any common sense we are blessed with. I’m super glad we chased this traveling-on-a-whim
compulsion.
Onward and upwards!
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