It’s happened again. I was sure it wasn’t going to happen this season. I mean, I’ve got a coach now – this shouldn’t happen when you have a coach. But it has.
I’ve plateaued.
The idea in a race season is that, as the season progresses, your race times get faster. That’s the way coach C has been training us, but that’s not the way it’s worked out for me. I look at my race paces for the season, and all I can see in every direction is flat ground – flat sandy ground and tumbleweeds, actually.
Here’s my 5k race pace “progression” – 3:26, 3:24, 3:24
Here are my 10k/6 miler paces; they’re even worse – 3:34, 3:35, 3:35
Now don’t get me wrong: I’ve had a great season so far. I set PBs at every distance I raced; I made the provincial Timex team; I even won a race and a pair of shoes. It’s been a good season. But like every other season, I didn’t get faster as the season went on.
It’s a little bit troubling. At the beginning of the season, coach C told me that if I focus on the short stuff, given what paces I was training comfortably at and based on his instinct after decades of training hundreds of runners, I should be capable of squeaking under 34 for 10k this season. But I haven’t even run under 35:30. I haven’t lived up to my potential.
I look at guys running 33min or below for 10k, and I ask myself why I’m not running as fast as they are. They don’t look a whole lot different. In track workouts, I seem to be making the same kind of effort as they are; it’s just that I’m going slower. Is it talent? Are they just born better? Maybe, but I think a 33min 10k doesn’t take all that rare a talent. So why am I not even close? What does it take to push a guy from a 35 to a 33?
Honestly, as far as I can see, there’s only one big difference between me and the faster guys, and it’s not talent. Those guys running 33 and below – well, they run a lot. They’re regularly putting in 100k+ weeks; I’m lucky to get 70 or 80k. On their own, all the Wed-Sat speed work sessions won’t make me a 33 runner. If I wanna run faster, then I haffta run more. Simple. Sure, there’s a point of diminishing returns with mileage, but it’s well beyond the 100k mark. I’m hitting a ceiling in my racing because I’m hitting a ceiling in my mileage.
But this raises what I think is the really vexed question for achievement-oriented recreational runners, or maybe it’s just a question that vexes me: how much time and energy can I invest in running before it’s just stupid?
I suppose if I had a good answer to that question, I wouldn’t bother raising it – it wouldn’t haunt me. But the mere fact that it does haunt me means that I haven’t committed to the 33, which is why the 33 is so far away. Those guys and gals I train with who keep improving never ask this question. The question they ask is how do I get faster? Whatever coach C says, they’ll do it without flinching. They don’t bellyache; they don’t reflect; they get their asses out the door and they run.
I tell myself that I don’t commit like this because my situation is different. These folks aren’t carrying the guilt of not making a living wage in pursuit of an artistic dream. They earn their living and then they run. But that assessment is a bit too simple. Take D, for example, one of my t-shirt nemeses. She’s a single mom of 3 – she sacrifices way more to log her miles. The result? She’s a world-class marathoner. But she didn’t start world class – and there was no way to predict that was where she’d end up. She just got her ass out the door and ran and ran. She made sacrifices, but never questioned the value of what she was doing – or not openly, at least, and not in a way that slowed her down.
But me? Well, I can’t even replace my shoes when I should because I can’t stand spending the money. There’s an ambivalence that I haven’t conquered – and that ambivalence is slowing me down. Part of me says, train like a champion and see what your real potential is because there’s more value in pursuing something you love fully than half-assed. The other part of me says, you’re a fool for spending so much time on running when you don’t have the talent to be any better than a middle-of-the-pack varsity runner – you’re wasting time and money and being incredibly selfish.
There’s no easy answer here, but one thing I know for sure is that ambivalence feels like crap. Piss or get off the pot, they say – don’t just sit there.
But still, I hem and haw as the National Timex Championships looms. I’ve got until October – plenty of time to break out of this 35-high rut – but it will take work, time, and commitment. If I stay ambivalent, then I’ll run a 35-low at best. If I commit, then I’ve got a shot at 34-low or better. Really, it’s up to me.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Digby Scallop Days 5k
I look anxiously at the clock. 30 minutes. Good. There’s still lots of time. But as the seconds tick away, I can’t help but worry. J-A said she wasn’t feeling great, and she missed a lot of training, and living two full-time lives as student and employee has reduced her sleep over the past couple of weeks to an average of about 4 hours per night. There's no way she should cross the line in PB time, no way she should break 35 minutes.
31 minutes. Despite everything, I'm still hoping she'll have a good race.
My family and I are gathered at the finish line – my mom and dad and my brother, sister-in-law, and their three boys. They're on vacation and have decided to come with us to Digby to watch us run. Now we're all waiting, cheering for those crossing the line but saving our lungs for when J-A appears down the stretch.
32 minutes – when will she appear?
The Scallop Queen and her entourage of princesses in glowing white gowns line the finish chute to congratulate those completing the race. It’s a nice touch – it adds something special to the race to have them take part each year. This year, in fact, some of them even walked part of the course to lend support to the goals of the event – to promote healthy living and fun.
33 minutes. I wonder where she is. People keep crossing – the seconds keep ticking.
And then I see her. The clock shows 33:30 and she’s coming down the stretch, maybe 200-250m out. I run about 75m from the finish line and start yelling. Behind me, our whole cheering section goes wild. Even people who don’t know J-A join in – there’s a mountain of noise. The princesses are clapping. J-A puts in a surge and crosses the line in 34:37, well under her goal and a huge PB. It was awesome.
There have been some incredibly fun and memorable races this season, but I think the Digby Scallop Days 5k takes the prize for most fun. Admittedly, winning at the Cabot Trail Relay was pretty special, but the level of intensity of that event removes it from comparison. Among the rest, Digby stands out.
My own race wasn’t particularly dramatic, but it was fun. The only plot development happened in the first k. As usual, a bunch of young guys surged out of the start line, and, as usual, most of them died up the first hill. Part way up the first hill, though, three guys remained in front of me. I simply kept my pace and watched them come back. The last guy in front heard me coming and took a quick glance back. I’d moved to pass him on the right, but he drifted out into my path. I wondered if he was letting me through on the inside, but as I moved inside, he looked behind and drifted back inside. The dude was trying to keep me from passing. It was crazy – we’re not even at 1k, and I’m comfortably running faster, and he wants to race. Well, give him credit for being aggressive, but in the end, I moved past on the right and ran the rest of the race alone.
I’ve gotten into the habit of racing without a watch, so I was a bit lost out there on my own. The course is two loops, but the loops aren’t equal, so when I passed the finish line clock the first time, it was before half way, so I had no idea if I was running fast or slow. Instead, I found the edge of discomfort and kept moving. If there had been someone there to race, I might have pushed into the pain a bit more, but with the race sewn up, it was hard to push too far. In the end, I crossed the line in 16:59 – one second off my PB. Funny. I had more in the tank, but I didn’t have the discipline to push. No big deal, though – I was sub 17, two-time winner, and got a trophy and a pair of shoes from a Scallop Princess. All in all, an awesome time. And the race director gave well-deserved props to the family cheering section.
I’ve been to Digby four times, and each time I’ve loved the race – it’s got a nice laid-back, festive feel. This year was extra special with J-A’s huge performance and a loyal and loud cheering section. You can bet that J-A and I will make every effort to go back next year!
31 minutes. Despite everything, I'm still hoping she'll have a good race.
My family and I are gathered at the finish line – my mom and dad and my brother, sister-in-law, and their three boys. They're on vacation and have decided to come with us to Digby to watch us run. Now we're all waiting, cheering for those crossing the line but saving our lungs for when J-A appears down the stretch.
32 minutes – when will she appear?
The Scallop Queen and her entourage of princesses in glowing white gowns line the finish chute to congratulate those completing the race. It’s a nice touch – it adds something special to the race to have them take part each year. This year, in fact, some of them even walked part of the course to lend support to the goals of the event – to promote healthy living and fun.
33 minutes. I wonder where she is. People keep crossing – the seconds keep ticking.
And then I see her. The clock shows 33:30 and she’s coming down the stretch, maybe 200-250m out. I run about 75m from the finish line and start yelling. Behind me, our whole cheering section goes wild. Even people who don’t know J-A join in – there’s a mountain of noise. The princesses are clapping. J-A puts in a surge and crosses the line in 34:37, well under her goal and a huge PB. It was awesome.
There have been some incredibly fun and memorable races this season, but I think the Digby Scallop Days 5k takes the prize for most fun. Admittedly, winning at the Cabot Trail Relay was pretty special, but the level of intensity of that event removes it from comparison. Among the rest, Digby stands out.
My own race wasn’t particularly dramatic, but it was fun. The only plot development happened in the first k. As usual, a bunch of young guys surged out of the start line, and, as usual, most of them died up the first hill. Part way up the first hill, though, three guys remained in front of me. I simply kept my pace and watched them come back. The last guy in front heard me coming and took a quick glance back. I’d moved to pass him on the right, but he drifted out into my path. I wondered if he was letting me through on the inside, but as I moved inside, he looked behind and drifted back inside. The dude was trying to keep me from passing. It was crazy – we’re not even at 1k, and I’m comfortably running faster, and he wants to race. Well, give him credit for being aggressive, but in the end, I moved past on the right and ran the rest of the race alone.
I’ve gotten into the habit of racing without a watch, so I was a bit lost out there on my own. The course is two loops, but the loops aren’t equal, so when I passed the finish line clock the first time, it was before half way, so I had no idea if I was running fast or slow. Instead, I found the edge of discomfort and kept moving. If there had been someone there to race, I might have pushed into the pain a bit more, but with the race sewn up, it was hard to push too far. In the end, I crossed the line in 16:59 – one second off my PB. Funny. I had more in the tank, but I didn’t have the discipline to push. No big deal, though – I was sub 17, two-time winner, and got a trophy and a pair of shoes from a Scallop Princess. All in all, an awesome time. And the race director gave well-deserved props to the family cheering section.
I’ve been to Digby four times, and each time I’ve loved the race – it’s got a nice laid-back, festive feel. This year was extra special with J-A’s huge performance and a loyal and loud cheering section. You can bet that J-A and I will make every effort to go back next year!
Monday, August 9, 2010
Proud of My Nephews!
A few months ago, when C (my bro) and M-R (my sis in-law) confirmed when they and their fam were going to be in Nova Scotia, J-A had this brainwave: our nephews P (5) and D (3) should run the Bridge Mile! In previous years, we’d watched all the little dudes and dudettes givin’er over the Bridge, and we wanted to be a part of it. Fortunately, C and M-R thought it was a good idea too!
I was a little bit nervous about how the two kids would react to the whole thing on race morning, but as we walked the bridge from Dartmouth to Halifax for the start, they seemed in really good spirits. We arrived on the other side in time to watch the Open Female race start, which meant we had loads of time to sit around and wait for the Youth Boys start. Once the women had gone, the boys got to see the girls line up.
Soon, though, our moment arrived, and we all moved into the start area. It was decided that C and I would run with P and that M-R and J-A would run with D. In the line-up, P looked a little overwhelmed, and we had to explain to him that it was okay if he didn’t win the race – apparently, he wanted to be like his uncle who he’d seen win the half at Valley the year before. But we somehow managed to explain to him that there were lots of big kids running at the same time, so it was okay if he didn’t beat them.
As the start time drew closer, the director of Run Nova Scotia’s youth running series led the kids through some fun warm up exercises and stretches to help pass the time. P and D did their exercises seriously – this was a big race, after all.
At the start of the girls’ race, we’d noticed that they were using a starter’s pistol to start the races, so M-R and C made sure to explain to P (who was a bit wary of guns) that it wasn’t a real gun and that the loud bang was not something that was going to be harmful. I never would have seen the pistol as a problem – shows how good an uncle I am!
The moment finally arrived. The gun went off and P and C took off. I got caught behind some slow kids and parents, but I soon found some space and raced after them. The crowd spread out up the hill, but P was givin’ it – he never even slowed up the hill. He paced it perfectly, and when he got to the top of the bridge and started down the long downhill towards the finish, he appeared to have plenty left. I was sure he would walk a few times, but he never even slowed. And he even put a few surges in there when C suggested he speed up. It was awesome. I was so proud of him.
When we got to the finish chute, we explained to P that he had to cross the finish line alone. So we sent him on his way to be greeted by the race announcer and I took off around the chute in order to meet P at the finish line and encourage him in. He needed little encouragement, though, as he pumped his legs and crossed the line strong. I hoisted him into the air in celebration and then we walked hand-in-hand to get his medal. With his medal on, he informed me that this was his fourth medal. He’s only five and he’s already won four medals!
We made our way over to daddy and then took up a position along the finishing chute. We looked for D and J-A and M-R, but we couldn’t see them. I ran back to the start of the chute to get a better view, but I couldn’t see them at all. I told C that they were nowhere to be seen, and he decided to go back up the bridge to look for them to see if everything was okay.
Finally, we saw them all walking down the hill. Apparently, D had gotten a bit freaked out at the start and had refused to run a single step. He’d also been feverish and feeling bad the past couple of days, so that could’ve contributed to his unhappiness with the whole thing too. Nevertheless, the whole lot of them made their way down the hill towards the finish as the last group to arrive. I told the announcer D’s name and he gave him a big welcome as D walked down the finishing chute to the finish line. Hearing his name over the loudspeakers, of course, totally freaked him out, but somehow he managed to get over the line in order to claim his medal. It was awesome!
The Bridge Mile is an amazing event, and I’m so proud of my two nephews for doing it. I was also proud when P said the next day as he watched the kids finishing the Natal Day 2 Miler that he’d like to do that next year. Yay – another runner in the family!
I was a little bit nervous about how the two kids would react to the whole thing on race morning, but as we walked the bridge from Dartmouth to Halifax for the start, they seemed in really good spirits. We arrived on the other side in time to watch the Open Female race start, which meant we had loads of time to sit around and wait for the Youth Boys start. Once the women had gone, the boys got to see the girls line up.
Soon, though, our moment arrived, and we all moved into the start area. It was decided that C and I would run with P and that M-R and J-A would run with D. In the line-up, P looked a little overwhelmed, and we had to explain to him that it was okay if he didn’t win the race – apparently, he wanted to be like his uncle who he’d seen win the half at Valley the year before. But we somehow managed to explain to him that there were lots of big kids running at the same time, so it was okay if he didn’t beat them.
As the start time drew closer, the director of Run Nova Scotia’s youth running series led the kids through some fun warm up exercises and stretches to help pass the time. P and D did their exercises seriously – this was a big race, after all.
At the start of the girls’ race, we’d noticed that they were using a starter’s pistol to start the races, so M-R and C made sure to explain to P (who was a bit wary of guns) that it wasn’t a real gun and that the loud bang was not something that was going to be harmful. I never would have seen the pistol as a problem – shows how good an uncle I am!
The moment finally arrived. The gun went off and P and C took off. I got caught behind some slow kids and parents, but I soon found some space and raced after them. The crowd spread out up the hill, but P was givin’ it – he never even slowed up the hill. He paced it perfectly, and when he got to the top of the bridge and started down the long downhill towards the finish, he appeared to have plenty left. I was sure he would walk a few times, but he never even slowed. And he even put a few surges in there when C suggested he speed up. It was awesome. I was so proud of him.
When we got to the finish chute, we explained to P that he had to cross the finish line alone. So we sent him on his way to be greeted by the race announcer and I took off around the chute in order to meet P at the finish line and encourage him in. He needed little encouragement, though, as he pumped his legs and crossed the line strong. I hoisted him into the air in celebration and then we walked hand-in-hand to get his medal. With his medal on, he informed me that this was his fourth medal. He’s only five and he’s already won four medals!
We made our way over to daddy and then took up a position along the finishing chute. We looked for D and J-A and M-R, but we couldn’t see them. I ran back to the start of the chute to get a better view, but I couldn’t see them at all. I told C that they were nowhere to be seen, and he decided to go back up the bridge to look for them to see if everything was okay.
Finally, we saw them all walking down the hill. Apparently, D had gotten a bit freaked out at the start and had refused to run a single step. He’d also been feverish and feeling bad the past couple of days, so that could’ve contributed to his unhappiness with the whole thing too. Nevertheless, the whole lot of them made their way down the hill towards the finish as the last group to arrive. I told the announcer D’s name and he gave him a big welcome as D walked down the finishing chute to the finish line. Hearing his name over the loudspeakers, of course, totally freaked him out, but somehow he managed to get over the line in order to claim his medal. It was awesome!
The Bridge Mile is an amazing event, and I’m so proud of my two nephews for doing it. I was also proud when P said the next day as he watched the kids finishing the Natal Day 2 Miler that he’d like to do that next year. Yay – another runner in the family!
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