On Friday Nov 10th I took the train up to Chicago. I spent the weekend hanging out with Kate Roin and some of her friends up there before my race on Sunday.

The race was the punny VeteRun for veterans day weekend. There were actually two races, a 5K and a 10K, both starting in the same place at the same time. I took this race very seriously. I expected stiff competition with a 250 dollar cash prize on the line. Second place got nothing.

The temperature was around 35 degrees, but the air was still. I decided to wear only gloves in addition to my singlet and shorts because I heated up quickly during the warm up.

I laced the little black timing chip into my flats. Unfortunately I misplaced the plastic tie that I could have used to attach it. The chip was uncomfortable on the top of my foot so I took it off my shoe and slipped it into my glove and decided to run with it there. When the race started all of the runners crossed the mat that lay across the line to detect the chips and begin timers for each. I lowered my palm so the chip in my glove faced down towards the mat.

The race started off too fast, but the front runners quickly gapped everyone else. I didn't want to get lost in no-man's land so I held the pace and waited. Others dropped off as they assessed their own abilities and wisely backed off. I slid from one person's draft to the next like a soldier seeking cover as he advances. More and more people faded, but one accelerated to join the two leaders ten meters ahead of us. I latched on to the train and let the accelerating runner carry me on up.

As we advanced, one of the two lead runners began fading and it looked to be a three-man race. We came through the first mile in 4:50, 72.5 second quarter pace. That pace would have bought us through the 10K in 30:12. We weren't moving as fast as I had thought. My personal best is 30:05 and my goal for the spring is 29:55, of course that will be on a track with lots of competition.

We slow marginally, but the pace still feels sharp. The course winds through a park but we are still on a paved path. I draft off one of the other two runners and focus on my breathing and stride. We conclude the first loop of the course and near the half-way mark, the 5k where the shorter distance runners will be finishing. Suddenly the lead runner of our trio takes off like a bat out of hell making a bee line for the finish.

The other lead runner and I take the 10K loop turn and I'm surprised to find myself in first place in a two-man race. My first concern is that I have become the draftee and the other racer has become the drafter. It's not a huge problem since the air is so still, but leading from half-way isn't my style and I have no idea how good my competitor is.

I decide to hold pace and see what developes rather than suckering my opponent into taking the burden of leading. What developes is a one-man race. My opponent gradually fades and I push the pace as I feel more and more relaxed. The fifth mile feels like an eternity and as I come upon the seven mile mark I realize that's because the six mile mark was missed or missing. By this time I'm passing 5K runners as I re-enter the first loop.

An ineffectual police biker tries to clear a path through the 5K runners for me, but they are a little slow on the uptake. It's ok. Really the worst response when you are told someone is coming up behind you fast is to jump out of the way. Do you have eyes in the back of your head? Then how do you know which direction to dodge? No runner that I know will run straight towards someone else's back expecting them to move.

I take the responsibility of runner avoidance and speed up a little bit, excited by the new challenge of weaving through the crowd. The finish is near and I don't know quite how far back my competitor is so this compells me to run faster.

The finish comes into view and I cruise in for a finishing time in the 30:40's.

I'm breathing very hard but I feel good. I go on a short little cool down. I get cold quick as the wind has picked up and it cuts through me. It feels wonderful to put my clothes back on and slurp soup provided for the race.

Kate and I chill out and munch on the food while waiting for the awards to start. Awards are held inside a tent that is significantly colder than the air outside because a breeze runs through it and it blocks the sun. I move to the front of the crowd, but the race director announces the winner of the 10K and it isn't me.

What I should have done at that point was march right up and say there has been a mistake, but I didn't. I went and found the official in charge of results and told him a mistake had been made. It turned out I wasn't in the results at all. My chip hadn't registered and I realize that holding it in my hand was a big mistake. I tell him I carried it in my glove and he gives me a lecture like it's my first time I ever raced. I say, "Yes sir I know the chip goes in my shoe. No sir I didn't read the directions. No, sir, I didn't realize that the sensor has a range that comes up no higher than my ankle..." but it turns out that it does.

So don't ever wear that silly little chip in your shoe any higher than your ankle, because it won't register and you won't be in the results.

The second place finisher left the race with the money within minutes of receiving it, before I could get back to the awards tent after explaining my self to the results official. Some other runners, Kate, and a photographer were very helpful in backing me up and setting things straight. I didn't catch their names otherwise I would recognize them and thank them here. Long story short things got worked out and I was awarded the prize money, but not after a very stressful episode over such a seemingly trivial mistake.