Accurate Courses Measure Up

Several years ago, a few friends and I had the times of our lives at a local 5Km. Some 15 minutes into the race held on a beautiful fall morning at a tree-line park in Sacramento, we progressively began to finish - amazed one and all.
The reason: If we had just run the advertised 3.1 miles, then we had all also just run huge personal records. Of course, that wasn't the case as we all almost immediately realized.

In fact, the route was seriously short. The race, organized by a local charity, didn't have any previous race management experience. And as such, the promoters didn't understand the simple road race concept: A race advertised as a 5K should be 3.1 miles, not more than one-half mile short. Correspondingly, a road race promoted as a 10K, 10-miler, half-marathon or any other distance, should be that distance.

The race director of the 5K my friends and I participated in - and every race director - should simply know better.
But I don't want to give the wrong impression. Running is what I do to relieve stress, not acquire additional worries. As such, I rarely wear a running watch while training. I don't consider myself particularly competitive, and I'm not the type of runner who immediately upon finishing an event dashes to the results board to see where I placed. It just doesn't matter very much.

For me, running is more about getting away from the things that invite stress. Running is for time shared with friends. And it's for solo runs, too, when the mind, body and/or spirit require a good cleansing.
Nonetheless, when it comes to a race advertising one distance and then presenting a contrary distance, I can be as bothered as the frantic, competitive, always-anxious runner who wears a beeping running watch and carries their racing flats back out on the course to cool down after their race.

My disdain for inaccurate courses is based on race organizers' failure to prioritize. I understand as well as the next runner that running events are largely businesses. And as a self-employed member of the work force, I applaud the entrepreneurial spirit. As such, I understand that certifying a race course costs money.

But certifying a race course (the process of accurately measuring the distance) is a business-savvy decision. Why? The running event entrant, keen on a certain race, has to make a simple choice. If an event charges $20, the runner has to determine if the entry fee is worth the investment? If they get what's advertised, that's good business.

T-shirts and post-race goodies are nice, but more important for me is whether the race's flier and/or Web site states the course has been certified. If the race's information includes that it's certified, it also likely means that race management is not only detailed enough to measure the course, it also has likely made sure other components of the race have been professionally orchestrated.

Trail ultramarathons are sometimes the exception. Race directors advertising 50K, 50-mile or 100-mile events - the most common U.S. ultramarathon distances - can face a near impossible task of measuring an exact courses over rugged terrain that traverses rocks or rivers. Most ultramarathons understand and accept this dilemma.

But road racing is different. Walk into any running shoe store and chances are one wall is reserved for a display of race fliers - charity events, well-established 10Ks to marathons and various other niche runs.

If a race flier touts the virtues of particular organizations - charity or for-profit groups - as well as advertising a certain distance, then the runner who's spending his or her money should know what they're going to get.

Many events understand the concept. The organizers have certified their courses (usually via a USAT&F official), they start their events on time, and they offer plentiful and thoughtful awards to elite and runners throughout the pack.
Consequently, it's these events that usually reap the benefits of a strong word-of-mouth response. The money they've spent to certify a course (a few hundred dollars) will likely easily come back to a race director's budget when runners take notice.

But the reverse is also true, and this is where runners sometimes fail to realize the power of their dollar. If you attend a road event that's not the distance it was billed, don't go back. And tell your friends not to support the event, either.
Accurately measured courses are also important for two additional reasons - personal records and historical record-keeping.

As a middle-aged, middle-of-the-pack runner, personal records are few and far between. But occasionally, as was the case earlier this year with a road 50K, I surprised myself and set a five-minute PR.

It was a nice feeling of accomplishment. And even as someone who races infrequently, I would have been disappointed if the course wasn't certified and I later discovered it was short.

Yes, I still would have the enjoyed day, the camaraderie with friends and the knowledge that I can still run for about 4 1/2 hours. But it was a better feeling knowing the course was accurately measured.

For talented age-group athletes and runners with the ability to win races overall, accurately measured courses are important for obvious reasons.

If Paul Tergat, Moses Tanui or Tegla Laroupe establish another record, it further expands the sport's standards. But if the courses on which the standards are set aren't accurately measured, what good are the records?

Of course, course records, never mind world records, don't pertain to most runners.

But while we're out there, running the local 5K or the Boston Marathon, it's good to know that every mile counts - as a mile.

James Raia, a frequent contributor to FootNotes, is a journalist and long-distance runner in Sacramento, California.