Eastern States 20 - Casey on the Run
Posted Tuesday, 29 March, 2005
By Don Allison
Sometimes it seems, we make running more complicated than it really needs to be. Analysis of data from heart rate monitors, GPS devices, and training logs—as well as input from coaches and medical experts—can be enough to make your head spin. Bringing the weight of that information to the starting line can seem like carrying a 10-pound backpack. Sometimes it seems, running and racing can be distilled down to lining up and letting it go, throwing the data out the window and simply running as fast as you can for as long as you can.
The latter strategy was displayed—with stunning success—at the 10th Eastern States 20 Mile, covering a stretch of real estate along the New Hampshire Seacoast from Kittery, Maine to Salisbury, Massachusetts. Young Casey Moulton, clad in shorts, singlet, and an old pair of six-ounce racing shoes, nearly flew off the starting line, leaving the field of 600 behind before the race was even a minute old. By the time he had reached mile one on Portsmouth’s Memorial Bridge in five minutes flat, the race for first seemed all but over. Soon the competition was long out of view, but Moulton kept cranking along as if there were a pack of dogs nipping at his heels. Three miles in 15:21 and five in 25:49, the drumbeat of his steady yet spectacular pace kept on.
With the win all but sewn up, two questions came to mind: 1) Would Casey be able to eclipse Ed Sheehan’s 1994 course record of 1:46:15 or Paul Low’s 2001 “modern” mark of 1:47:01? (ed note: in the first two years of the race, 1994 and 1995, the actual race distance was 19.8 miles.) Passing 10 miles in 52:07, Moulton was definitely on pace to do it. No one had started this fast since 2001, when South African Charl Mattheus clocked a similar 10-mile split, but cramped up at mile 17 and slowed to a crawl. 2) Was this kid ever going to take a drink? He had bypassed the aid stations at 3.5, 7, and 10 miles, as if they were not even there. Granted, the weather was nice, but it was a dry day, after all. Surely some water would help, would it not? But the youngster showed no interest in aid, and in fact covered the entire course without so much as a sip.
For a long-time runner who has become immersed (some night say entangled) in the “science” of the sport, it was refreshing to witness such a no-frills racing effort. Casey seemed to have not a care in the world, just open road between himself and the finish line. A stiff crossing wind in Hampton slowed him a little, but not much, as 15 miles was reached in 1:19:15, the record still within reach. Up and over the Seabrook Bridge past mile 18 he ran, by then reeling in 10-mile runners who had started at the same time but 10 miles further down the road. Talk about making up the stagger!
In the end, there was joy in Salisbury, as mighty Casey ran the fastest 20 miles in race history, 1:46:54. Not until he crossed the finish line did a grimace of pain appear upon his face. Bent over and wincing, the effort of 5:20 per mile for 20 miles began to show. But it was soon replaced by a smile when he was greeted by his Dad and learned he had in fact set a record.
This was a day on which a genetic gift for speed and the pure exhilaration of running fast had overcome science and analysis. Sure, there is a place for all of that, but in running—as it was 10, 20, 100, and even 1,000 years ago— throwing caution to the wind and letting it go can be the best way to travel fast.
In addition to Casey’s record, Emily Levan matched the feat on the women’s side, clocking 2:01:49, bettering the old mark by more than two minutes in finishing sixth overall. There were many other outstanding performances throughout the age groups, and in the 10-mile as well. A total of 753 crossed the finish line in Salisbury, an all-time high, hopefully auguring a bright future for the event, now with a decade of history behind it. We also thank each and every volunteer, without whom this event would not be possible.
Facebook 
Twitter
i