Park Bench 5K Mania

Just-in-Time Racing Job Offer

Last Saturday, my brother called me to ask if I wanted to help his timing company during a road race.  I am an excellent data entry person and can type probably faster than I can speak in some cases.  So as day-of-registration folks pile in with last minute paperwork, I get to enter hundreds of people into the race database in about an hour.  I actually really like doing it.


The part that is the most amusing that makes me respect, perhaps idolize, my brother is the crazy people at the races.  The antics of these people are laughable on a once-in-a-while basis.  If I had to do this timing as often as my brother, I am not sure I could ever go to a road race again in my life.  My brother and I laugh about how much the Nutcracker tortures him during the winter season at his theater job, but now we can also laugh about how these road races torture us too.

The Confrontational Phone Lady: No, I am not Siri

I arrived at the Park Bench in Stony Brook at 7:30 a.m. and helped my brother and the rest of Just In Time Racing set up.  Before I was sent inside to start my frantic typing, a woman around age 50 walked up to the table around 8 a.m. and asked us what time the race actually started.  When we informed her the race was at 9:30, the time that was listed on the registration form that she just filled out, she had a slight meltdown, explaining that her husband just dropped her off and how she didn't want to wait around.  She explained if the race was at 8:45, she would stick around, but since it was 9:30, she wanted her husband to pick her up.  She then turned to me and said that she wanted to use my phone.  When I told her I didn't have one (I leave EVERYTHING in my car at these races), she stared me down skeptically. "You mean YOU don't have a phone," she questioned, as if I was a teenager who can't live without texts.  Ask my husband, I never have it on me lol and why am I defending myself?


Later after the race (since she stayed for it even though she didn't like the 9:30 start time and wanted to create her own start time), she came back to the table to return her chip (which should have already been turned in) and asked us to scan it for her to get her time.  Genius, the chip "scans" as you cross over the mats, hence, THE REALLY LOUD BEEP as you cross.  After her 53-minute 5K, she was more pleasant than before at least.

Bathroom Sneak

After I went inside to start typing, the employees of the bar asked me to make sure people didn't enter the bar to use the bathroom and remind them the port-a-pottys were around the corner, specially ordered for the 733 runners in the race.  At first, I just locked the door; this way people attempted to open the door and continued on when the door wouldn't open.  After a while, the computers needed juice, so they ran extension cords from the bar to the finish line, preventing the door from completely closing.  So as I typed, I calmly explained to people who entered in hopes of a clean bathroom that they had to use the less-than-loved port-a-pottys.  As a runner, I am fully aware of the hunt for a bathroom, and a clean one, so I was sympathetic to their mission.  Most people just happily went on their way to search for their relief, but one man walked in just after my brother came in to drop off more registration packets.  My brother was aware of the instructions and explained, "Sir, the bar isn't open yet and they have provided bathrooms around the corner."  The man explained to us that he wasn't looking for a bathroom, he just wanted to check out the bar design.  He proceeded to awkwardly stand in the corner and glance up at the ceiling for about two minutes.  Then, he asked, where did you say the bathrooms were?  I wanted to die.  He clearly came in for a bathroom break and felt like he got "caught" and had to create some odd diversion, which obviously didn't work well for him.  Off he went.

Nosey, Seductive Result Looker

My brother has to deal with so many morons, and I really don't know how he does it!  Like I said before, since I know my brother as a little temper tantrum terror, I think his inner peace at these races is amusing.


As he is trying to do a million things with results, timing chips, computer print outs, wheelchair registrations, one man stands behind him to look at the computer screens.  Now, I do understand watching my brother is incredible.  He has a million electronics out and is calmly managing all of them.  But this man was not admiring my brother's work, he wanted to see his own result.  He stood right behind my brother and leaned his face almost next to my brothers; it looked as if he was whispering in my brothers ear. My poor brother could obviously see this near seduction from the reflection of his computer and didn't bat an eye.  Later, I got to recreate the scenario for my family, and we all got a good laugh over Mothers' Day lunch.

Average Guy

Another man came over to my brother while he was in the computer seat and stared down at the computer, which, of course, is a common occurrence. But his question was a first.  Again, remember my brother is clicking away on several computers like a mad man, and this man stops my brother to ask him what the average time of the entire race was.  First, the race had not finished, so no average would be possible, but also, why would you bother calculating an average of people finishing from a range of 16 MINUTES to 1 HOUR and 30 MINUTES.  Obviously, this mean would be a fairly useless number. 

Detail-Orientated 1:15 Finisher 

It never ceases to amaze me the criticism that some "runners" have over race results. When the winners and top runners finish, they wait, check their results, and often times don't even wait for their medals (and most likely would never wear their medals either).  I would never think to question the race timers while people are still finishing, or ever for that matter.  In this race, the winner ran about 16:30.  The female winner ran 19:37, never to be seen again.  BUT the man who ran 1:15 ran faster to the computer table after his race than he did during the actual 5K just to tell my brother that his name was not on the results.  No shit. The results were printed out almost 30 minutes before you finished because no one, especially the person who finished three miles almost an HOUR before you, deserves to have to wait for his time because you couldn't hurry your tush up.  My brother then has to show him that the slow poke is actually on the results but not the printed version. I'm just surprised the guy made it from the finish line, to the posted results, and to the computer table in record time.


I would be too embarrassed to highlight to anyone that I ran 1:15.  Also, I would hope, if I were that runner, I wouldn't be as critical of other people and quick to complain, as I am sure I could be easily judged as I slogged through the course.  Why throw stones?

Fraigle but friendly old man

On the other hand, one of the slow finishers, a 76-year old who ran almost 1:20 who posed the same question, got a much more pleasant response (although even the critical large slow man got service with an Imperiale smile too). First off, holy crap, you are old and still running - I am always impressed at the true endurance athletes, the ones who have endured time more than any young runner could ever understand.  Also, he was really sweet and nice about asking; therefore, we were really extra nice and sweet about answering and even printed him an updated copy of the results with his name (and Mr. 1:15 Slow Poke) on it.  Thank you nice old guy.

Middle of the Finish Line Campers

But despite the crazy runners, the worst part of any race are the obnoxious, oblivious spectators.  I've been to hundreds of races.  My husband was knocked off the track in an 800 race by a person who attempted to cross the final stretch of the track as he barreled in to the finish.  Rob, who was probably 114 pounds at the time, was knocked onto the grass, unable to breath, and still got up to finish with a 1:57 (yes, I've heard this story many times <3).  This is a perfect example of a stupid spectator. 

At our Post race, we have had spectators who have refused to budge at the HERD of 500 runners coming straight for them.  At that point, I let them stay in hopes of watching them get stampeded (think Mufasa). 


At this race, there were several people that I asked multiple times to move out of the final stretch. In fact, to give you a better visual, the finish line took up the shoulder and one side of the 1/2 closed road (think: yellow line to white line).  Some of the cheerleaders stood between the curb and the white line, which was fine and out of the way.  Others, especially an Asian man, a Camera Lady, and a Little Zoned Out Boy who probably either played way too many video games or already has smoked too much pot, had to stand literally in the direct center of the finish line, about five strides from the finish.  Clearly, they wanted a good glimpse of their beloved runners who they were cheering on, but they could care less about all of the other runners (and there were many of them) who were finishing before their runners.


I calmly went over and explained that all the runners worked hard today and deserve to see their finish line from around the bend and asked the people to move back.  They moved for a second.  I walked away to the computer table (no more than 5 yards away) and the people moved back.  Again, I wandered over and asked them to about-face to see that they were literally blocking the finish line.  They looked, realized, moved away, and then moved back to their finish line real estate.  One lady with a camera gave me a dirty look as she moved back into her offensive position.  I stopped trying, because, well, that's not the timing company job really.  I was trying to be courteous, but I was going to flip my switch after another finish line sweep.


My favorite (least favorite) was the little boy who stood for, no joke, over 45 minutes on stride from the finish line, directly in the center, right on the pavement.  He had a glazed look on his face and waited, unmoved by the people flying by him.  Sometimes pairs of people had to separate and rejoin at the finish line because he basically created two chutes.  At one point, he was even staring at his phone.  OMG MOVE!  

Multiple Mat Jumpers

And when in doubt, it's always a guarantee that even if there are no ridiculous runner/spectator stories, there will always be the mystified mat jumpers.  When I run knowing there is a chip on my shoe or in my bib, I stay away from the finish line mats, even when I know they aren't activated yet.  You see, when a race starts, the computer finish line guy activates the mats.  So during warmup time, they aren't even actually set yet.  But, out of respect, I avoid them, just in case I am the one to screw things up.


But most people don't understand that your chip could scan and ruin the results, potentially.  (Most computer people are aware of people's stupidity and know how to fix the glitch if this happens.)  They will run over the mats to hear the beeps, not once, but twice, three, four, five.  Laughing.  Guaranteed comment: "LOOK, NOW I WON! ::Insert dumb laugh::"  Clever. Never heard it before.


But this race was even better because people who finished apparently also liked hearing their beeps.  So instead of walking THROUGH the chute, which common sense would direct you to do.  They walked over the mats again in the reverse manner, then BACK over to the chute, playing the beeping game, and screwing up their race time. DUH.  At least these people were running a 5K in over an hour and probably didn't care what their mile pace was at all.

Crazy Runner World

But all in all, it was a pretty fun day - Frank, my family, and I had a lot of good laughs.  I also found a new talent: reenacting the scenarios.  Plus, I think my brother really likes that someone understands what he is going through - and perhaps why he will never ever understand runners (or - that he understands them too well lol).