Ellen's Run

Despite my best intentions to party it up in the Hamptons this summer, it seems that most Sunday mornings I am supposed to be somewhere in East Hampton by 8:30 am to run 3.1 miles. Now, running 3.1 miles is not something you really have to get up early to do. Also, it's not absolutely necessary to drive to a place a half hour away - there's plenty of perfectly runnable roads and sidewalks much closer to my home. But these 5k races have a secret weapon: the T-Shirt.

Oh, the mighty t-shirt. Remember, these things are ugly, and they're plastered all over with a bunch of sponsor logos, and really, people should pay you to wear the hideous thing. But a 5k t-shirt is still a powerful thing. Thrown on with your rattiest jeans and a baseball cap for a Sunday morning donut run, it says to the world "I'm not a lazy slob, I can actually run 3.1 miles and for all you know, maybe I just did! Yeah, that's it! It's not overeating, it's carb-loading, buster!"

Which is why this morning, exhausted from an unplanned trip to Florida and the previous night's gig, it was the thought of that stupid t-shirt that got me out of bed. And it's not just any t-shirt - this was Ellen's Run, one of the biggest running events out here on the East End. Ellen's Run raises money for breast cancer related charities to the tune of $160k or more per year. It attracts hundreds of runners and all of them wear their Ellen's Run shirts to run around the Hamptons. I've seen the shirts. I've coveted the shirts. I'd registered and already paid my entry fee, and I wanted my %*#&@ t-shirt!

So that's how I found myself flying down Route 27 at 8:45. I made it to East Hampton High School at about 8:52 - plenty of time, I said to myself! These things NEVER start on time!

Ah, how wrong I was. This is without a doubt the best-organized race I've been involved with. The large milling crowd was my first sign - most other races I've been in have had maybe 100 runners at the most - here, there was the better part of a thousand participants lining up (the final results listed some 787 participants). Someone on a loudspeaker was announcing that it was 5 minutes to race time.

I was in trouble. There were no t-shirts in sight! A brief sprint took me to the school cafeteria where numbers were being passed out. Fortunately I had pre-registered, so all I had to do was find the right table to pick up my number and my timing chip. Then it was off to the next table where for one awful moment, it seemed I had wasted all this effort - I was told there were only youth shirts left. Heartbreak! Another volunteer went digging around (I must have looked extremely disappointed) and found a box of adult smalls. Triumph!

I joined the mob at the starting line just as they announced 30 seconds to race start. But I was still carrying my t-shirt. I suppose at this point, shirt in hand, I could have bagged the whole thing but that seemed like cheating. I wanted to EARN the shirt, so off I went. And here's the funny part - I had parked the Jeep right along the race route! It only slowed me down by about 15 seconds to throw my shirt inside, and it gave the nearby runners a good laugh.

Chip timing turned out to be unexpectedly cool. With a large number of runners, you just can't all get past the starting line at the same time - it took me more than a minute. But the chip keeps track of when each runner starts, so you have an accurate time when you finally reach the end. I got there in just under 40 minutes, doing 12.5 minute miles, 439th out of 787.

Towards the end, I met up with a walker who asked me if I had run the whole way. I admitted that I had taken a few walk breaks. She seemed to think that meant I was doing better than she was - so I had to point out that since she was in fact ahead of me, that wasn't necessarily the case. She jogged the remainder of the run with me and crossed the finish line on my heels. I found her name on the list of participants, so if Lori Schultz of East Hampton ever reads this, please drop me a line. You seemed super cool.

Post-race, I met up with my running buddy G-Mac and we raided the samples, breakfast, and water. So, all together, it was entirely too much effort, but now I've Been There, Done That, and Got The T-Shirt. It is Jeep-red, too small, over-logoed, and I will wear it proudly on my next hung-over morning juice and donut raid.