I’m so proud of J-A! We both ran the Lunenburg 5k race on Sunday (13th), and we both had great races. Admittedly, she’s a little bit disappointed with her time: she wanted to run under 35 minutes but got a 35:10 – however, according to her Garmin, the course was a bit long and she crossed the actual 5k mark at about 34:40. So, really, she not only crushed her previous PB by close to 2 minutes but she also achieved a very ambitious goal. Now, a Garmin record is not as satisfying as an official time, and I get that – but what makes me happy is that the whole thing has made her hungry for the 5k in Digby in August. And the funny thing is that she still says she doesn’t like running. I don’t really believe her anymore, though.
I felt great about my race. We lined up under sunny skies. There was some heat – close to 20, I think – but it wasn’t enough to seriously affect the race. The start was neat this year because they had a local girl sing the national anthem. Normally, I never get a chance to really focus while in the starting pack. Usually, I’m listening to the race directions or chatting with the folks around me. But during the anthem, I was able to go inside and focus on what I needed to do in the race – plus, it’s a neat feeling to listen to the anthem before the event – like the pros.
Anyway, when the horn went off, the front line of folks (me among them) rushed out to get a good position. Unfortunately, this meant a bunch of us went out a little too quickly, but that was my game plan – to be aggressive. I’ve learned this year that I haven’t yet developed the ability to surge or to switch gears in a race – or, at least, I haven’t learned to switch to a higher gear mid-race – I’m quite skilled at going slower! Once I’ve established a peak pace, my body doesn’t like to go beyond it – so I figured I’d establish a good pace early and then hang on for dear life.
I also made another tactical change this race to improve on my mistakes from the last one: I left my Garmin watch at home. In fact, I wore no watch at all – so I had to run without knowing what my splits were. It turned out that this was great – it meant I focussed entirely on what my body was telling me and on what was going on around me. I was racing – not just doing a timed workout. It sounds small, but that was a huge change for me.
So through 1k I had seeded myself in 4th or 5th place. I had passed N, who had burst out of the gate a little quick and was trying to rein it in, and I was ahead of my other training buddy A, which surprised me a little because he is definitely faster than I am (actually, N and A are both former varsity runners – N is a former AUS champion on the track and A is a former CIS champion – at their best, they are both a world faster than I am). I was running stride for stride with a young guy – and I was amused to see that someone had gone out with R, the eventually winner of the race.
Around the mile mark, the course starts climbing up a fairly nasty and long hill. This is where the race is decided every year: guys either go way too quick on the hill and spill their guts before reaching the top or folks fear the hill and climb too conservatively. This year, I went at the hill aggressively, and everyone behind me took it too easy. As I climbed, the young guy I was with fell back and A (who loves to climb) finally passed me. By the top of the hill, I was in 5th, and I couldn’t hear anyone right behind me.
Flying down the hill, I was tired, but I knew I hadn’t spent it all – I had run well – a rare thing for me. After the downhill, there’s a long flat stretch, and I tried to relax and open up my stride. I watched as the 3rd and 4th place guys chewed up the distance between them and the guy who’d gone out with R. I think that guy learned a little too late that you’d better be prepared if you go out with R – and now he was struggling. It was great having him there, though – it gave me something to focus on as my mind was screaming at me (as it always does) that I was going too fast and that I should stop. Instead, I kept wheeling and felt the distance between me and that guy close.
As we turned the corner back towards town just before the 4k mark, I finally passed the guy who was struggling. It felt great. I was a bit panicked, though, because I felt that some guys were close behind me – but I didn’t want to look. Some racers benefit from knowing how close behind them people are – but I’m not there yet. I tense up if I feel I’m being chased – and the only way to keep speed is to stay relaxed. So I just focussed on my own stride and climbed the really crappy hill in the last k. From there, I coasted downhill towards the finish.
The finish in Lunenburg is around a corner, so you don’t get to see the clock until less than 100m to go. When I rounded that corner, though, I saw that I was right on the bubble for getting in under 17 minutes. As the seconds ticked away, I gave everything I had to put on a final burst. I went to face and was grunting like a pig trying my utmost to cross the finishing mat before the clock turned – and I did it – with only two seconds to spare! I was 4th and I was sub-17 – I was elated.
This result was also good because I got a bunch of Timex points – and with 3 out of the 7 races on the series done, it’s looking really positive for me to make the team that will represent Nova Scotia at the national Timex race in Toronto. The series is far from over and anything can happen – but my point average currently puts me in third spot overall – and second in the open category (the top guy is in his 40s so will go as the top Master runner, which leaves 3 spots in the open category).
On top of this, I won the honour of wearing “the shirt” during cool down – an honour bestowed on the runner who wins among a few of us who train together. The shirt is one of those cocky novelty shirts: on the front is a reproduction of one of those “Hello my name is” stickers, but it says “Hello, Nice to Beat You.” And on the back it says, “We should do this again sometime. Call me!” But not only is the shirt obnoxious, it is also was originally D’s (who is a world-class female marathoner), so it is a ladies small slim fit shirt – I’m not a ladies small slim fit guy – so the shirt looks absurd on me. Regardless, I wore it with pride! Really, it looks best on D, but she’s going to have to beat me to get it back!
Anyway, I was able to recover from my run in time to watch a bunch of friends have PB finishes and to watch J-A come across the line in her big PB time. It was a great run – a really great run. And the homemade muffins afterward were great too – they somehow managed to make 8500 muffins for close to 600 runners!! All in all, a great day in a great town at a great race.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Enfield 5k
Cabot Trail was amazing – for sure – and although it lifted my spirit light as a feather, it put lead in my legs. 4 days of hard living and some long downhill running left me in less than peak form for the second Timex race – the Enfield 5k.
I thought I’d be okay – race morning was beautiful – and the course is as close to flat as you’re gonna get on the Nova Scotia road racing scene. I figured, even with tired body and legs, I should be able to rip off a PB. So I was optimistic going to the line – I even lined up in the first row of runners. When the gun went, I tucked in behind my training partner N. I figured he would set a good pace over the first k, and I could follow him and see where my fitness was that morning. I got a little impatient, though, and about 300-400m in, I pulled in front to set the pace. We passed the first k slower than I would have liked – 3:26 (when I was looking for 3:20s) – so I surged a bit after looking at my watch. But I could feel that I was already running at capacity, and my body settled back into a 3:26/27 pace.
The two guys with me were content to let me lead for the second k (a 3:27), but after that, they pulled ahead. Their move was good for me, though – it meant I could tuck in and let them set the pace, and it meant that I wouldn’t feel obligated to lead during the second half of the out-and-back course, which was into the wind. All I had to do was hang on. At the 2.5k turn around, though, N put on a bit of a surge, and while the other guy matched it, I didn’t. Even so, I was able to catch them up after a couple hundred metres, but the effort left me without much extra left. By 3k, they were pulling away and I had to let them go and fight my own battle.
Despite struggling, I maintained my 3:27 pace for the 4th k, but the two guys in front were putting real estate between me and them – in fact, they were making time on the second-place guy. I was in fifth, but I couldn’t hear anyone creeping up behind me, so I focused on staying relaxed and keeping my turn over going as I climbed the hill in the last 500m of the race.
I was a little disappointed when I finally saw the clock on the home stretch – I knew I wasn’t going to be close to a sub-17. But I crossed in 17:13 – good enough for my second-fastest 5k. With tired legs, I couldn’t be too beat up about it – but I still want that sub-17. Unfortunately, my (potentially) last chance at it this season is this Sunday! I can’t imagine my legs are going to come back to me in just a week, but I can hope. I’m going to go into Lunenburg looking for that elusive sub-17.
I thought I’d be okay – race morning was beautiful – and the course is as close to flat as you’re gonna get on the Nova Scotia road racing scene. I figured, even with tired body and legs, I should be able to rip off a PB. So I was optimistic going to the line – I even lined up in the first row of runners. When the gun went, I tucked in behind my training partner N. I figured he would set a good pace over the first k, and I could follow him and see where my fitness was that morning. I got a little impatient, though, and about 300-400m in, I pulled in front to set the pace. We passed the first k slower than I would have liked – 3:26 (when I was looking for 3:20s) – so I surged a bit after looking at my watch. But I could feel that I was already running at capacity, and my body settled back into a 3:26/27 pace.
The two guys with me were content to let me lead for the second k (a 3:27), but after that, they pulled ahead. Their move was good for me, though – it meant I could tuck in and let them set the pace, and it meant that I wouldn’t feel obligated to lead during the second half of the out-and-back course, which was into the wind. All I had to do was hang on. At the 2.5k turn around, though, N put on a bit of a surge, and while the other guy matched it, I didn’t. Even so, I was able to catch them up after a couple hundred metres, but the effort left me without much extra left. By 3k, they were pulling away and I had to let them go and fight my own battle.
Despite struggling, I maintained my 3:27 pace for the 4th k, but the two guys in front were putting real estate between me and them – in fact, they were making time on the second-place guy. I was in fifth, but I couldn’t hear anyone creeping up behind me, so I focused on staying relaxed and keeping my turn over going as I climbed the hill in the last 500m of the race.
I was a little disappointed when I finally saw the clock on the home stretch – I knew I wasn’t going to be close to a sub-17. But I crossed in 17:13 – good enough for my second-fastest 5k. With tired legs, I couldn’t be too beat up about it – but I still want that sub-17. Unfortunately, my (potentially) last chance at it this season is this Sunday! I can’t imagine my legs are going to come back to me in just a week, but I can hope. I’m going to go into Lunenburg looking for that elusive sub-17.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
A Record Cabot Trail Relay
You know those lucky kids who win some contest or something and get to meet professional athletes – like baseball players or football players – and in the dressing room the athletes give the kids jerseys that are 12 sizes too big and then they bring the kids onto the field and let them throw a pitch or catch a touchdown pass? You’ve seen this on TSN or on the news – the kids wear these big proud grins the size of their whole head and everyone feels great for them because for a moment, they too are part of the team. Well, that’s exactly how I felt at the Cabot Trail Relay – except my singlet actually fit.
Somehow the universe conspired to give me a gift: I got to be a part of the team that not only won the Cabot Trail Relay but also destroyed the previous course record by 38 minutes. It was an absolutely amazing and inspiring experience. And I stayed up to watch and cheer every leg of the race except for the first – from 8:30am on Saturday until noon on Sunday. I watched 15 amazing performances and got to participate in one race myself. Sure, mine was the shortest leg and one of the easier ones (although that mile-long climb at the beginning was hell enough for me!), but I did my job – I ran a solid pace despite some painful ankle tendinitis and was 4.5 minutes faster than the guy who ran the leg for the team last year – that’s a decent contribution to the goal of beating the team’s previous result. I didn’t win my leg – in fact, I gave up two minutes to a dude from the Maine-iacs (our closest rivals), but I was 5 minutes ahead of the third-place guy. I did fine. And I get to keep my jersey!
There are too many stories to tell – and not all of them are appropriate to tell, at least the ones involving nudity and the police – but I can say that it was without doubt the best running experience I’ve ever had. And I got to run at sunset and enjoy the fading light streaming over the highland hills. And I got to witness gutsy performances up and down mountains and share in the excitement of watching the team pull away from all competitors and following the numbers as we pulled further and further ahead of the record. And the thing about the record is that it was set by a team that had corporate sponsorship: they had a Winnebago, they had a massage therapist, they had 4 former Olympians for pete’s sake! And we were just a bunch of guys with a couple of beer-filled vans and the crazy idea of being the fastest team yet. Okay, I’m over-dramatizing here because we had a bunch of studs – former CIS champions, etc. – and the team that set the record was a bit older than us – but it was all very magical anyway!
I’m grateful for the experience – and the best part was meeting so many great guys – solid individuals, for sure – and sharing in a kind of close team camaraderie that is so rare in running. We laughed and we drank and we ran hard and had a hell of a man-cation! In the future, I might tell a few specific stories from the weekend, but for now these general impressions will have to serve. So much happened that it will take awhile for me to process it all and gain a kind of narrative perspective.
Until then, I work on overcoming my tendinitis and take another shot this weekend at a sub-17 5k. My chances are slim after all that sleep deprivation and boozing – and all the missed training runs – but I’m going to go gut it out on Saturday anyway – what the hell. After all, the whole point of putting those huge jerseys on kids is to inspire them to do their best, even if they’ll never be pros. But for a weekend, I got to be a pro!
Somehow the universe conspired to give me a gift: I got to be a part of the team that not only won the Cabot Trail Relay but also destroyed the previous course record by 38 minutes. It was an absolutely amazing and inspiring experience. And I stayed up to watch and cheer every leg of the race except for the first – from 8:30am on Saturday until noon on Sunday. I watched 15 amazing performances and got to participate in one race myself. Sure, mine was the shortest leg and one of the easier ones (although that mile-long climb at the beginning was hell enough for me!), but I did my job – I ran a solid pace despite some painful ankle tendinitis and was 4.5 minutes faster than the guy who ran the leg for the team last year – that’s a decent contribution to the goal of beating the team’s previous result. I didn’t win my leg – in fact, I gave up two minutes to a dude from the Maine-iacs (our closest rivals), but I was 5 minutes ahead of the third-place guy. I did fine. And I get to keep my jersey!
There are too many stories to tell – and not all of them are appropriate to tell, at least the ones involving nudity and the police – but I can say that it was without doubt the best running experience I’ve ever had. And I got to run at sunset and enjoy the fading light streaming over the highland hills. And I got to witness gutsy performances up and down mountains and share in the excitement of watching the team pull away from all competitors and following the numbers as we pulled further and further ahead of the record. And the thing about the record is that it was set by a team that had corporate sponsorship: they had a Winnebago, they had a massage therapist, they had 4 former Olympians for pete’s sake! And we were just a bunch of guys with a couple of beer-filled vans and the crazy idea of being the fastest team yet. Okay, I’m over-dramatizing here because we had a bunch of studs – former CIS champions, etc. – and the team that set the record was a bit older than us – but it was all very magical anyway!
I’m grateful for the experience – and the best part was meeting so many great guys – solid individuals, for sure – and sharing in a kind of close team camaraderie that is so rare in running. We laughed and we drank and we ran hard and had a hell of a man-cation! In the future, I might tell a few specific stories from the weekend, but for now these general impressions will have to serve. So much happened that it will take awhile for me to process it all and gain a kind of narrative perspective.
Until then, I work on overcoming my tendinitis and take another shot this weekend at a sub-17 5k. My chances are slim after all that sleep deprivation and boozing – and all the missed training runs – but I’m going to go gut it out on Saturday anyway – what the hell. After all, the whole point of putting those huge jerseys on kids is to inspire them to do their best, even if they’ll never be pros. But for a weekend, I got to be a pro!
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