Falmouth Road Race was this past Sunday and it was a blast, as always. This is the only race in the country where I can run lousy and still have a great trip. The race places the elite athletes with host families, which is unique in my racing experience. It may not be the case for everyone, but I always get the nicest, most hospitable families.
This year I stayed with MaryLou and Andrew Meade, along with Jon Rankin and Christian Hesch. MaryLou and Andrew went out of there way to make us feel right at home. Most of the pre-race down time was spent watching the Olympics and playing with Masai, the half pug, half cocker-spaniel ball of energy. After the race, the Meade's extended family came over for a BBQ and we ate like kings. Jon Rankin had a lot to celebrate after he smoked the field at the Falmouth Mile on Saturday night, running 3:56.4, from the front.
My race was less inspirational. After slipping at the start, I worked hard to catch up to Stephan Haas and Fernando Cabada. They were running a sensible pace and seemed like good guys to work with since the leaders were out way too fast (4:30) for my slow legs. Around 2.5 miles into the race I had just about caught Haas and Cabadass when my head started spinning and my gut did a somersault. Sensing an imminent refund of breakfast, I doubled over at the side of the road and did a heave ho. The results were less than satisfactory so I tried twice more in the next minute or two and cleared out most of what ailed my gut. By this time lots of folks passed me by, including most of elite women and several high school kids. I managed to get going again at a touch under 5:00 pace and felt OK through mile 5. From that point on my gut put up a continuous rebellion but I held strong and finished respectably, albeit well back of the leaders.
