Run with the Roosters 5 Miler, Tucson AZ (or, your name must be STEVE!)

Note to reader – consider this version of the Bob Newhart Drinking Game – except this time, every time the name “Steve” comes up, you have to take a drink….

Here goes -

The alarm went off at 3:06 am today, and after reluctantly getting up 10 minutes later, stumbling around, collecting running apparel, GPS and water bottle, I'm in the car and gone at 3:40 am headed for Old Tucson Studios. Destination of the "Run with the Roosters 5-miler" put on by my new Tucson Colleague Steve Landau's "Everyone Runs" running event company

After meandering north on surface streets for a few miles, I hang a sharp left onto Speedway avenue and arrow west through the downtown area for several miles. Surprisingly, there is a lot of traffic for this time of the morning. My car thermometer reads 87 degrees - at 3:55 am - but it's a "dry" heat, so I have the windows open, and am scanning the radio for something interesting to listen to. Not much on at this time of the morning and I'm too sleepy to rummage for a CD.

I exit Speedway at Gates Pass road (an angle left) and blast up into the Tucson Mountains. Gates Pass is a winding, rolling two-lane mountain road that does, literally, provide a pass over the Tucson Mountains, and it's much like a Desert Alpen Highway. A Nissan Altima zooms past me, and I crank up the Toyota to stay in his wake. At this time of the day, there is only one destination he could be headed for so I'm guessing if I follow him, we'll arrive at the same objective. It's pitch black as we swoop up to the top of the pass, then drop almost straight down to the other side. I'm regularly on and off with the high beam switch as the road curves and I lose sight of my driving buddy. At times I imagine I'm James Bond and the evil Goldfinger's minions will be trying to overtake me and push my Toyota over the cliff into the void below so I keep a sharp eye on my rear view mirrors for approaching headlights that may spell trouble.

Arriving safely at the end of Gates Pass, we hang a left on Kinney Road and a short block later see a swinging flashlight directing us into a dark parking area.

"Aha!" I chortle to myself as I see the Nissan obediently make a left hand turn as directed by the dark figure with the flashlight. I follow suit and am soon parked in the Employee's Parking lot at Old Tucson. Time: 4:10 am. Race Start - 5:00 am. Still pitch black.

Withing seconds a wave of cars are streaming in off Kinney and the flash lights are describing a constant arc directing the flow, which is now also backed up all the way to Gates Pass. "Hah, once again, my timing is superb!" I think to myself. "Take That, Gregg Herman!"

Old Tucson, for those of you who don't know it, is a Western Movie Set turned Theme Park that provided the backdrop for many movies over the years starring John Wayne, and other cowboy heros. The Old Tucson part doesn't play much into this race as we just used the parking lot for the race start/finish and post-race festivities, so that's a story for another time. I will, however mention that Cayelin's middle son Ian did an extended time here as a Stunt Man before his current gig in China and he had a lot of fun getting shot, falling off buildings and doing many other cowboy skits.

Anyway, I now have to find packet pickup so I meander down a long side road from the parking lot towards some bright lights and noise, and soon find Packet pickup. A recent running acqaintence named Steve Huges is manning the table, so we have a brief discussion, He's apparently injured today - ankle - so is not running, however he's been training in earnest for the Mount Lemmon Marathon and may, in fact, be running UP Mount Lemmon next week. I'm instantly glum......these Tucson runners are dedicated to their craft and will no doubt conquer the mountain this fall in fine fettle, while I'll be piddling around in the Midwest in single digit altitude for the rest of the summer and early fall.

Shaking off these gloomy thoughts, I don my Bib (number 114) and head back to the car to drop off my keys. Having a few minutes, I flip open my cellphone and, mentally doing the calculation of Midwest time change, fire off a text to Rhonda "At the race. Dark and 88 Degrees at 4:20 am" I wait a few minutes, but no response, and getting bored, I disembark, lock up the Toyota, tie the key around my shoelace, and, after checking the obligatory three times to make sure I've done that, lock the remote in the trunk and turn to my left, where I immediately encounter another local Race Director Colleague, Steve Taggart - he of the Tagg Runs race events company. Steve's a great and enthusiastic guy, so we kibitz for a while and then head back to the start area. Promising I'll be back to do his fall races, I head out to warm up a little, but soon lose interest and circle back to the starting area. It's starting to get light, the DJ is cranking Prince's "Raspberry Beret" which, by the way, was in the top 10 in 1985 - 25 years ago this week!! and anyway, I figure "it's only a Five Miler".

It's also overcast so still dim as we draw closer to the 5:00 am start time, Steve Landau gets on the microphone and informs us that he'd like it to be a little lighter, so we'll start "Oh, about 5:08 or so" Okay, fine, no biggie. Soon, we're all lining up – 200 plus runners and walkers - and next to me I spy Polly Campbell, whom I had an intense team workout with in May at the Reid Park workout group weekly meeting before I left Tucson. She's the woman's winner of the Tucson Mararthon last year and a top ranked athlete. She spies me and lights up "Hey! You were on my Team!!!" she exclaims. I'm delighted to be remembered and greet her back, then it's time for an introduction to the Rooster who is standing close to the entrance to the parking lot where we are going to run out of (a job I wouldn’t want – a furry costume in Tucson Heat?) Then, a trumpet version of the star spangled banner (which was slightly off key and had some clinkers) and then Steve announces "I've got a gun and I'm not afraid to use it!" (Arizona Humor!) and after a 10 count, Bang! and we're off.

Since I wasn't running with Gregg Herman, I'm way up front with the Speedy People. Polly and her compadres are soon tail lights of course, however I did hold my own for the first mile or so. Since I don't run many 5 milers, I don't have a "5 mile pace" so I blast off at what I think is just under my 5K pace.

It’s rolling downhill for the first mile and a half or so then, we hang a right into a State Park Road and up and over several speed bumps, all of which I managed to hit right on the top. I’m passed at about the 1.5 mile marker by a blue shirt/blue short clad dude with long, black, flowing, Moses-like hair and full monster beard. I had spied him before and figured we were long-haired running brothers in arms, but had dismissed him as he hadn’t looked like he was too fast. I was wrong, this dude had set of wheels on him for sure. Instantly doing an assessment, I figured he was too young to be in my age group because at 50 plus (my new age group), there was no way that hair color would not be streaked with Grey. Anyway, I’m figuring my shot at the gold this morning is slim – it’s Tucson after all and I had spied at least a few of the local oldsters blazing away from me at the start.

So, we continued through a water stop (where I again saw Steve Hughes and he handed me a cup of water) to the end of the road, where we turned around and headed back passing the stream of runners and walkers heading out. Mile two blazed by, and I’m averaging about a 7:20 pace, however I’m realizing that we’d been slightly downhill and that now we were going back – uphill.

I huffed up the slight rise to the water stop again, got another cup of water from Steve Hughes and headed out onto Kinney again. I’m feeling the uphill drag and suddenly I’m out of energy, and the race isn’t half over yet. Low Blood sugar…. I’ve passed Long Hair Blue Shirt guy, however I feel a lethargy creeping over me as we head south on Kinney in what feels like an endless succession of rolling uphill curves.

I managed to keep on pace, well, some pace anyway as we keep going, through the three mile mark to a turnaround. Today, it seems like my GPS isn’t working, each time I look at it, it seems as if I’m only advancing micro distances at a time. Still, it’s firing dead on each mile marker, and knowing that Steve Landau runs a quality race in all ways, I’m confident that the course will be as accurate as possible.

I slog up to the top of a hill where there appears to be a turn around, at about mile 3.25 I think and there is a water stop. I hear the volunteers calling out “Water” and then I hear the blessed words “Xood” (pronounced “Excude”) Sports Drink! “Xood!” I gasp and am handed a cup of the viscous pink stuff, which, formally, I’ve disdained in other races. This morning, however, it’s Jet fuel, and I walk a few steps to imbibe it properly, getting passed once again by my new silent colleague “Bearded Man” Mentally shrugging, I toss my cup and, feeling the lift from the carbs charge after him.

It’s a duel to the death for the rest of the race as we stride along, side by side, trading the pole position, fighting the hills, and rolling pavement. Again, I’m thinking “Man! This is a long-ass 5 miles” however the views were spectacular of the mountains, it was a great road surface and a good morning. The overcast made it feel like a Midwest day, with a little humidity in the air, and, take away the sand and cactus, and it could have been a Wisconsin Summer road race, weather wise.

There was a medium rise back to the parking lot at Old Tucson and, with my GPS registering 4.68 miles, I find I can light a few jets and as we traverse the hill, I dig in and put Bearded Man firmly behind me, hang a right into the parking lot (past the Rooster, who is directing us in), sprint around a long, cone-lined curve and blast into the finish line. The announcer is in fine voice, except he’s like “Okay here’s number…….One……Seventy-Four!” apparently not being able to read my bib. Well, who cares, as long as the scoring is correct, I think. Besides, I’m still thinking awards aren’t mine today.

Clock time reads 37:32, GPS has me at 7:29 per mile, 5.02 miles and 37:34 so okay. I peel my tag, and collect a bottle of Canadian Water and a crop sleeved technical Shirt. Another classy piece about Steve Landau’s Everyone Runs events – you get your shirt, in your size, right at the finish line of the race, and the shirts are so bom-diggity good that they soon become training favorites.

Still breathing heavily, I walk back to the Toyota, dump my shirt and then head back to the finish line. Spotting the Sport Massage tent and realizing that the line can’t be long yet, I sign up for a free Sports Massage, and then get my Robek’s Smoothie and Mexican Breakfast – again, two other cool things about Steve Landau’s events – the libations are insanely good and it’s great to reload immediately after running with scrambled eggs, refried beans, fresh tortillas and salsa and chase it with frozen fruit smoothies. All you can eat also!

There was also a huge "Slip and Slide" that Steve had set up, however, I decided to forgo taking a plunge. Still, cool finish line, huh??

Pretty much right after I inhale the amazing food, it’s time for my massage, and, even though I’m still dripping sweat, they don’t care. An energetic therapist named, of all things, “Steve” pummels my quads, hamstrings and knees doing some amazing stretches and working the muscles like whoah….I’m pretty blissed out while he’s doing painful things, it was a great added bonus, and he works me for about 15 minutes before letting me up and giving me an exercise to do to “Open up my Thoracic Cavity” which he said would help my breathing and improve my running. Good advice!

So, replete with Food, Beverage, Post-Race Massage, Stretch, and Advice – and, by the way, it’s barely 6:30 am at this point - I amble over in a blissful haze to check the results, which, it had been announced, were posted on the pillar by the entrance to old Tucson. There, I quickly ascertain that my bib, name, finish time and contact info is correct, (I’m 31^st overall) however, there are no age group rankings. As there were only 30 people in front of me, I start counting the people in the 50’s before me and soon arrive at 5. Oh, well, out of the running, I think, and turn away. I went to get another smoothie where I bump into my Bearded, Blue oufit-clad Race Buddy. “Hey!” He exclaims “Hey! I say back, adding, “I was chasing you the whole way!” “hey, I was chasing YOU!” he exclaims, and we kibbitz about the race, Everyone Runs, blah blah blah. Turns out his name is Bob (in concert with the B's - bearded and blue!) and he’s a cool guy, so we vow to see each other at another race sometime, and head off in opposite directions to do our thing.

I’m stirring my second smoothie when a thought struck me. One of those ages I saw on the results was 57, and in 5 year age groups, that means I’m at least 4^th. Damn, that’s even worse! However, thinking perhaps I missed something else, I go back and now a little less loopy from the massage, laboriously count the names again. Still fourth, however, I suddenly spot that one 52-year old in front of me is named “Susan” Oops!! So, I’m actually Third in my Age group! Whoo-hoo!!!! Then, I also spot on the list, the second runner past me is named “Bob” .......age 52….so, in fact, it was a complete Duel in the Sun for Third Place that was happening that morning unbeknownst to me – and had I acquiesced and were it not for the Xood, I would have conceded my third to a new Age Group Nemisis!! Sweet!!!!!

Realizing that I had not tipped Steve the massage therapist (not required but good Karma) I amble back to the Toyota for some singles and get back in time to hear the start of the awards. Steve Landau starts with the Women, and in reverse age – Oldest to Youngest, so I clap for all the speedy women, and then he does the same for the men. Seconds behind me was a 73-year old guy who was top in his age group, and there were several others that were 60, 70 and 80 plus (!) that had some insane finish times.

Steve Landau announces 1^st, and 2^nd in my age group and then “and this is a guy who helps me out and runs a lot – Peter Klein!” Applause as I head up for my trophy and the photographer snaps our picture. “Thanks Steve” I say urbanely. “This guy came from Wisconsin to do this race, is that insane or what?” he outs me to the crowd, who guffaws at my seeming idiocy. “Can’t miss an Everyone Run’s Event!" I explain to no one in particular as I go back to my space in the crowd.

The trophies are all the same, marked for 1^st, 2^nd or Third as in my case – and here goes….. A golden rooster, set into a while Lucite base. Hah!! Gregg Herman, bet you don’t have one of those!!

I hung around till the end of the awards, to clap for the other speedsters, then, collecting a few more bottles of Canadian water, I trudged once again up the road to the Toyota. On the way, I once again encounter Steve Taggart who I waved my trophy at. He enthused – “You know! Can’t tell that’s a running trophy, people will ask you if you won that at the State Fair for Poultry!” Hah, good one Steve….and humorously true!!! (see picture at the top)

So, I fire up the Toyota, rolling down all windows and sunroof, and out onto Kinney, back up and over Gates Pass, dropping down into Tucson and veering south to the Tucson abode. Arrived promptly at 8:03 am, five hours and five miles after the alarm went off and my first thought was………is it too early for a beer????

In case you didn't count, there were at least four "Steve's" that I encountered today in Tucson. Trippy, huh?

Thanks to Steve Landau (and the other three Steve's) for a great Race! Heading back to Wisconsin this week to tackle the summer races there, looking forward to seeing you all in a race soon!