Mississippi River Bridge Run 5K Race / IM 70.3 NOLA Event Reports

I’m not quite sure when I started to build my weekend schedule for 2009, but for whatever reason I saw that the first weekend of April would allow for me to go to New Orleans to cheer on a good friend of mine, Cassie Mondragon, in her first attempt at a Half Ironman.

And, as it should always be, I figured that I could add a race to the weekend’s schedule of events.

I was hoping that I would also be able to talk another good friend, Bill Dwyer, to come with me so that we could run the race together – even if it meant going over a steep bridge over the Mississippi River - and that he could cheer on the Team Strive members that he sees every week at track workouts on Tuesday nights (or whatever nights they are now since I can never make them).

As fate would be meted out to Bill in the form of his 2-year-old granddaughter’s birthday party, I would be making this trip alone. There was a possibility of Waverly going, but the plan that I had for the weekend didn’t fit in for her from a safety standpoint.

If I would have done things smarter, I would have “stayed the weekend” in Jackson and just drove down to New Orleans, but no, I had to make things a bit challenging.

I flew in from Jackson and I made it home at about 4:45 p.m. No more than an hour later, I would be completely packed – including my road bike in the bed of my truck – and be on the way to bank to get some money.

After a nearly six-hour drive (I wasn’t pushing 80-85 mph all the way, like I would with a rental car), I checked into the Marriott Courtyard in Metairie. I double checked the time and location of Saturday’s race in Destrehan – the 13th annual United Way Mississippi River Bridge 5K. It would go over the Hale Boggs Memorial Bridge and would finish in Luling on the south side of the Mississippi River.

Tired, I gave a few thoughts of just sleeping in; however, the race was part of the entire, original plan for the weekend. And not doing it would cheapen the entire experience.

So on a short night’s sleep; I was up, showered and shaved and on the way there no later than 7:15 a.m. It would be less than a 30-minute trip west on Interstate 10 and south on 310 to exit 6. When I got there, I would find a pretty decent crowd – gathering under the bridge and close to road that crossed underneath -- at the event that was being produced by the New Orleans Track Club.

The one thing that I like about NOTC events is that they are like many in the Pacific Northwest – they have a no T-shirt option (on race day). The T-shirt was pretty cool looking so I threw down an extra $5 spot. (Parking in downtown New Orleans would cost much more than this though!)

We parked in a grass field on the grounds of a local elementary school. I was a little worried, while waiting around on the start, about my truck getting stuck in the muddy grass. There was a van behind me already firmly entrenched.

There must have been close to 1,800 runners and walkers and I’d say that there were more walkers than runners. I tried to position myself about 50% of the way up, but really it should have been more like at the 35% mark. For the first three tenths of a mile or so, I had to dodge quite a few runners.

The course went up an on ramp to the bridge, which put you in the right two southbound lanes. It was sloped in such a way that it reminded you not to go too hard – and I didn’t.

I passed through the first mile marker in 10:04.76. But the NOTC website had the following Race Directors note – “The 1 mile cone and timer was placed accidentally at 150 feet past the actual mile mark.”

That’s just nice! It means that my mile 2, which included the steepest part of the bridge, had a greater separation from mile 1 and mile 3. My time was 10:47.34. Actually 150 feet isn’t much at all. It is not even one third of a tenth of a mile.

Once I got to the crest, mile 2 was soon to follow, and it was time to run as hard as I could down the exit ramp to Luling. Things were fine until there was a little bit of a crest in the road, which surprised and slowed a few people down. Mile 3 was still 9:22.87. (Wish I could run downhill all the time!)

The cone for the 3-mile mark was just before where we made a left-hand turn towards the finish line and I think that it was short. Why? Can you say a 41.31-second finish? There’s no way. That’s a sub 7-minute pace for 528 feet. So the finishing “chip” or watch time was 30:56.28.

I dropped off my index time card, got something to drink, picked up my goody bag and T-shirt and then found where the school buses were going to take runners back at. While on the first bus (we had to change because it was at a place where we couldn’t get out), I sat next to a woman who asked me how many times I had done Houston. I replied, “Four” and asked how many times she had. She said “more than 10”. So, hmmm, a veteran.

I asked her what her name was and she said, “Phyllis”. I asked her what her last name was and she said Friedman. When we got to the other bus, a gentleman asked me about the Houston race having seen my CHM finisher’s shirt from this year. During the course of my conversation, I thought about the first woman and asked if she was any relation to Louisianians Michelle and Meyer Friedman. She said that they were her kids!

We had a great conversation talking about Meyer (he’s doing post Doctorate work out in San Diego and Fillis is thinking about running Rock N Roll San Diego with him) and Michelle (didn’t realize that she’s been out with a stress fracture). We also talked about how Jen Brown was doing with her running – which has been great!

Saturday afternoon and evening was spent at the Ironman 70.3 New Orleans Expo, which was pretty weak, and then dinner with Cassie and Manny and her Mom and aunt. At the Expo, I had to track down Ashley Barkley with Premier Sports Event Management to get my press credential. This would basically let me get to where I needed to be (with one exception – more on that later).

I saw the elites come out of there pre-race briefing. The only one that I really knew for sure was Desiree Ficker. I was able to deduce who Chris McCormack was, but beyond that I was clueless. To me, I could have been at an X Games gathering and it would have been all the same. (No disrespect to fans of triathlons, but I just don’t follow the elite triathletes perhaps like I do runners at that same level.)

I attended a swim clinic by Terry Laughlin. Supposedly he’s supposed to be pretty good … will it be enough to get me in the pool? Maybe. Actually, it was pretty enlightening stuff. He was a pretty good presenter.

Four-something Sunday morning came early, and I wasn’t even competing! I had checked my bike the night before and was actually a little worried when I couldn’t keep air in the back tire. Somehow the screw around the valve stem came too far up and it wouldn’t keep air when I tried to seal the nozzle to the top of the valve stem and start pumping air into it. I finally figured it out.

I think I had my bike loaded up and was rolling towards downtown no later than 5:30 a.m. I stopped at the convenience store to get something in my stomach. It was humid already, and the forecast the afternoon before was calling for isolated thunderstorms throughout the race.

Parked by 6 a.m., I was on my bike and rolling soon thereafter. I started to go up Canal, but realized that was taking me in a westerly direction and I need to be going north. (When I saw the sign for Bourbon Street, I knew I was going in the wrong direction.) I went a street farther west and then headed north through a back street in the Quarter. Before Esplanade, I turned right, crossed Bourbon and headed over to where I could connect to Elysian Fields.

As I got further north and approached Interstate 10, the traffic on Elysian Fields got heavier and soon I was in the area where triathletes were queuing up for a mile bus ride to the swim start area. I did a little surveying of the logistics to see where I needed and wanted to be. I knew that I wanted to get out on the bike course, and I was trying to figure out how to do that without being on the course. Even though I was a spectator with a media badge, I respect those that are actually competing and don’t believe that I should be trying to share the same space.

I soon saw Cassie and she seemed in great spirits (i.e. not looking nervous). As her line to the bus started to move, I headed down to the swim start area on my bike and positioned myself to where I could see every body from the Montgomery County that I knew either make the mile walk or get off the bus.

I wouldn’t see Cassie again until she came out of transition, but I did see Dana Lyons, Susan Rouse, Greg and Gena Alvarez, Dee Akers and Vivian Corliss. Once I saw everyone and I noticed that the men’s elite was in the waters of the Pontchartrain, I headed back to the end of the swim-to-bike transition.

People are idiots and completely disrespectful. I can’t tell you the number of people who think it is their God-given right to cross the lane of traffic where bikers come out of transition and onto the course. I stood at the corner where cyclists would make a right-hand turn for two reasons – 1.) to get some good pictures and 2.) tell people that if they had to cross to do it farther up where there was a better line of sight for them and the participants.

Team Strive’s Matt Horak was the first one out. Then I think Susan and Dana were next before I saw Cassie. She looked excited and was smiling. (It turns out that she had a great time on the swim.) I stayed until the last person that I knew – who was Gena … in the last wave – had come out of transition. Then it was time to head out on the bike course.

I had no idea how far I was going to go out and what the course was even like. I tried to go on a street that was parallel to Lakeshore to get out to a bridge that the riders would cross over on Haynes, I believe it was. I had a local yocal law enforcement official – even with my media badge clearly identifiable – who would NOT let me go down that way. I had to bike a street back to Franklin and do what I didn’t want – get on the course.

Some in the men’s and women’s elite waves were coming back. The street was completely closed and participants were hugging the right hand sides of each lane. I decided to ride right up the middle.

I ended up going about 14-15 miles out. I remember passing the 20K mark and then going over Interstate 10 heading south on what I believe was the start of 510 South. On the way there, I was starting to feel the effects of the warmth that was building in the sky so I stopped at a convenience store along Haynes, which runs parallel to the Causeway. It is one of these true neighborhood convenience stores in a less than prosperous part of town. Needless to say, I walked my bike inside to get some water and something to put in my stomach.

As I was riding, I would stay to the outside of the cones and police officers would try to motion me to the left – and I had to constantly show them my badge. And it must have been kind of strange to see somebody riding with a camera hanging around their neck.

Once I made it to where I was going to end up (I crossed a couple of more overpasses and wasn’t going to make it a third, which would have put me about at about mile 40), I think I surprised everyone – including the people that I knew and those that I didn’t. Kind of cool, I guess. I don’t want people to respect how much I train or what my times are, but I do seek respect for how hard I work to do the things that I enjoy doing.

As people would pass, I would send Kim Hager a text or a call.

Once I saw everyone, I then hustled to get back as soon as I could. Gena was the last one to pass and having been on one organized ride that she had been on, I knew that I wouldn’t catch her.

The cyclists really faced a stiff headwind for much of the last 20K back in and going over two decent-sized overpasses into that wind was tough. I was still peddling, but it was a slow go.

As I approached the circle in the middle of Lakeshore (and Elysian Fields), I veered to the left as riders would go to the right to enter the transition area and start the run. I soon saw Manny, Cassie’s Mom and aunt. We chit-chatted for a few as I got an update on how things were going for Cassie.

As I started to head out on the run course, I saw Gena first. She said that she was having stomach issues and was walking. She told me about the water issues on the bike course. Wow! She told me that Dee was just ahead of her, and I made to her in a few. I spent a little time with both of them while wondering where Vivian was. I surmised that she must of still been in transition because I didn’t see her as I found Greg and Cassie.

They were running together at a decent pace, but the temperatures were getting a little toasty. And the run course was starting to look like the field of walking wounded. I hung with Cassie for a little bit and then went back to check on Vivian. I met her at about mile 3.5 and stayed with her until mile 5, and then it was time to catch up on the rest of the crew.

I came up on Dee and Gena between mile marker 7 and 8 at a place where there was a short out-and-back. This was in a place where I had done the Ole River Half Marathon the Sunday before Thanksgiving. I talked to some New Orleans Track Club volunteers and had complimented them on the race on Saturday and the one that I had attended last November.

When I started doing the math of the time that I rode with Vivian and then for a shorter length of time with Dee and Gena, I realized that Greg and Cassie were probably a good bit ahead. It was time to start to get moving a little faster.

I caught Greg just as he was making the left hand turn on to Esplanade. I gave him an update on everyone, and then went to catch up with Cassie.

I felt odd. My original plan was to come, watch and cheer on Cassie, but I have been blessed with a lot of friends – and some of those were also competing. I hope that they didn’t feel cheated in any way because I have known Cassie a little bit longer than everyone else. I think that I had said some things that might have been construed the wrong way, but I also think everyone knows that I just don’t go out to try to hurt someone or make situations awkward. I don’t think anybody thought any differently, but I just wanted to throw that out there.

I caught up with Cassie at about mile 10 and a half. We talked for a little bit, and she was passing a lot of people by just keep running. Once we passed mile 11, I told her that if I didn’t see her at the finish line (because I needed to drive back to Houston that evening) that I was, in essence, congratulating her. However, she said that she needed me to stick around for a little bit.

I didn’t say it then, but it was going through my head. As a friend, I was excited for Cassie. I was also very proud for her though certainly not even a small amount of what her husband, Mom and aunt were. I was comfortable enough with Cassie to let Waverly hang with her in Parkersburg, West Virginia in 2005 while I ran the News and Sentinel Half Marathon. I had only met Cassie not even three months before at a Thursday night 5K in downtown Houston where I think I helped her to the first of two 5K PR’s. Some people, you just have that feel for and trust in.

When Cassie and Manny got married, Waverly and I made the drive to Austin to register for the marathon that morning (to be able to run with Bill for much of the Half) and then drove back to attend their wedding and reception that evening. (We would drive back over the next morning to run!) You just do those things for friends – and never even think about it.

But all of that to say this: If there was anybody that I hoped Waverly would be able to emulate their successes, it would be that which Cassie has obtained in her life.

She mused a little bit about not beating the Blogger Half Ironman record that Sarah set, but hey, the bottom line is that she was finishing what she had set out to do.

I gave Cassie a high five shortly before she turned right on to Decatur, and then I saw her again probably less than 200 yards from the finish line.

After that I saw and talked to Leslie Watts and her husband for a few minutes before getting on my bike, getting back to my truck and beginning the long drive back to Spring.

It was a good weekend and well worth all that was undertaken.