Love and hate at Falmouth

I have a love-hate relationship with this week's Falmouth race and have decided it’s a bit like childbirth. You look forward to it, plan and prepare, but as race day approaches you start to wonder, “What was I thinking.” It’s not that the race is that bad or painful, it’s that August on the Cape can be unpredictable. It’s seems to be either hot and humid or cold with sideways rain and wind. Most years, I am often waiting to warm up and am already sweating from the heat at 7 a.m. The residents along the course usually have their hoses and sprinklers on for the runners, but often the water coming out of them is scalding. There is a good size hill at the end and a deceptively long stretch after that to the finish line that makes you wonder if you will ever get there. You finish under the largest American flag I have ever seen. But, just like childbirth, as soon as it’s over you forget you were in agony and want to do it all over again. I guess that is why the race sells out year after year.