For today’s long run (18 miles), I headed to the Atlantic City Boardwalk at 5:30 a.m. Last summer, I ran all of my long runs on the Boardwalk; this summer, I’ve done all of my long runs in the Pine Barrens, where my Half Ironman will be set.
But, you know, I missed the Boardwalk. There is so much more to Atlantic City than casinos, and when I run the boardwalk I can feel a positive energy that makes me want to move. I feel like a runner when I’m cruising down the boards. For long runs, I travel on foot through 4 towns on my route from Gardner’s Basin to the tip of Longport, NJ and back.
The first time I did that last summer, I was strangely happy about it.
Okay, I’m still strangely happy when I do it.
Maybe I feel so much like a runner because the boardwalk was the route I traveled as I trained for and successfully completed my first marathon, when all this marathon and triathlon craziness began. Maybe it’s because there are so many other runners there. Maybe it’s the stretch of beach and ocean that runs with me. Maybe it’s all of that and more. Whatever the reason, the AC Boardwalk has come to be my running home. Don’t get me wrong, I like to run other places. But, you know, it’s good to come home.
When I arrived to Gardner’s Basin this morning, the sun had not yet made it up over the horizon, and there was a light rain falling. The air was thick with humidity, and I had already started to sweat in the car ride over. I was a little bit nervous because the 16 mile run I had completed the previous week went miserably due to overheating. While I finished that run, I did not have much fun doing so. I was hoping today’s run would feel better.
I got out of my car and began my pre-run preparation. I strapped on my water belt, which holds up to 48 ounces of fluid. I had the bottles filled to the brim. That is a bit more than I typically need for an 18 mile run, but I’m a sweaty girl on a cold day.
I am, by far, the sweatiest person I know. Not the sweatiest woman – the sweatiest person. Since it seemed like I would be running through the belly of hell this morning, I thought it wise to bring extra fluids.
Then, it was time for the electronics. I like to run with an mp3 player. I know that the purists in the crowd will grumble, but I like it. I don’t always run with music, but most of the time I do. I also run with a garmin watch (see previous post), which provides pace, distance, and heart rate information. This information becomes especially useful post-run. While it may sound like this is a lot of prep – it’s not. It takes me maybe 3 minutes total to get situated once I’m out of the car.
I popped on my visor and stashed my shades in case it got sunny later, and off I went into the pre-dawn darkness. It’s a little less than one mile from Gardner’s Basin, down New Hampshire Avenue, to the boardwalk. I could smell breakfast cooking in one of the houses on New Hampshire, but the street was empty.
By the time I got to the boardwalk, the rain had stopped, and I could see the break of light in the clouds. I thought to myself, “I hope the clouds keep me in the shade for most of this run.” Luckily, they would.There was a light breeze blowing. It was a hot wind, but it was better than nothing.
As soon as I hit the boardwalk, I smiled. The first thing I see over my left shoulder is the beach. And, as I look down the boardwalk, it seems to me an inviting athlete’s promenade, down which my legs turn and burn. This morning, the wood was slick with rain, and the lights from the casinos made a multi-colored mosaic of the boards. I was running on a rainbow, and the pot of gold would be the endorphin rush at the end of the run.
I was no more than 5 paces onto the boardwalk when I started to see people. There was a man on his beach cruiser, who tipped his hat to me.
There was a man in a thin white t-shirt, and his orange Grunden’s fishing waders with thick black suspenders, carrying a five gallon bucket that had fishing rods and other gear spilling out of the top of it.
The construction workers were just arriving to the Revel for the day’s work. They stopped to wave to me. I saw them point to my compression calf guards, and I heard them ask: “Is she wearing tube socks?” I laughed to myself. The compression socks are an interesting fashion throwback to the 1970s.
As I headed to the end of mile 2, at Kentucky Avenue, the Boardwalk started to get a bit more populated, and the sky started to get just a shade lighter. I could see the orange hue of dawn in between the dark rain clouds. There were city workers cleaning out the trashcans and lining them with fresh plastic bags. There was a couple with a stroller. The woman was wearing socks with her sandals. There was an old man, smoking a cigarette outside of the Hard Rock Cafe. Other runners appeared by the time I got to Trump Plaza and the Convention Center. Most of the runners returned my wave, but some didn’t–even though they looked right at me when I waved.
As I passed the tennis courts in Longport, I saw a soccer team in green and blue uniforms waiting for their ride. Their coach was providing a last minute pep talk. It reminded me of my crew days, and the pep talks that Joe Haney would give us.
When I returned to the boardwalk and passed Cornwall in Ventnor, the track team was there. I had missed them! Last summer, I spent many days running “with” the track team. Well, let’s put it this way, every time I ran on the boardwalk, they were there running too. I even recognized some of the faces from last year. When I passed them at Cornwall, they were stretching and gearing up to start running. Their coach was explaining their workout to them.
I went on, and they caught up with me about 2 miles later. There were about 12 of them, and they sounded like a herd coming behind me. At first I thought it was thunder, then as the first runner passed me, I realized who it was as they ran seemingly effortlessly passed me. At that point, my watch clocked me at an 8:30 min/mile pace. So, they were going at a good clip! Their coach was riding on beach cruiser behind them. We waved and shared that “runner’s moment.” A mile later, he had stopped with two of the runners. I saw him given advice to one of the runners who appeared to be struggling.
As he passed me on his bike to catch up with the rest of the team, he asked, “How far today?” I replied, “18 miles.” He said, “God bless ya! They’re doing 8 miles today – that’s a lot for them.” I replied, “Well, they are a lot faster than me.” He laughed, “But, they are younger, too.”
As I ran by the Convention Center the second time, the boardwalk was getting packed! Today is the Atlantic City Airshow, and the event always draws a crowd. Even though it was only 8 a.m., there was much hustle and bustle as people were walking toward the beach with their coolers and beach chairs. The Air Force was there setting up tents and chairs, and the boardwalk was impressively crowded for 8 a.m. on a Wednesday morning. I weaved in and out of the people, picking up my pace and feeling strong–despite having already run 15 miles.
Oh, yes, I was in my running home! I was smiling like a crazy person–which by some of the looks I was getting, I think there were those who thought I might be a little strange. I felt like singing out loud. At one point, I did. I wish I could say it was a one-time thing, but it’s not. Those who have run with me know that I burst spontaneously into song at times–especially on long runs. What can I say, sometimes I’m just feeling the rhythm. Luckily for those around me, I can only sing a line or two before I need to regulate my breathing again.
The sun made its presence known when I hit the 17-mile mark. And by then, I knew the end was near so the added heat was just a very temporary issue. The track team was at the end of the boardwalk when I got there; they were stretching as their Coach was prepping them for the way back to Cornwall. As they ran off, he smiled at me. I called out happily, “One mile to go!” “Whoa! You must have gotten up early!” Yes – and it was worth every minute!
I made my way back to Gardner’s Basin. I was soaked in sweat from head to toe. My legs felt the pleasant strain of a solid effort. And, my brain felt the distinct pleasure of endorphins–and of running home.
