Pictured- The author's well worn Lunar-Fly's. After hundred's of miles of minimalist training I think it's safe to retire them to a nice senior community in Florida.
Whew. I'd love to bend your ear with a mile-for-mile play-by-play but I'm still pretty tired and living off of the residual memory of how it went yesterday- In addition to the outpouring of support of Moda, D-Gangs, D+A and Crash, as well as surprise sightings/appearances of Balcolm-In-The-Middle, Matthus, and bless her heart...the original sporting cheerleader, Mom.
In brief-
After setting out my gear and a fitful night's sleep, I was up and biking to the Depot around 5:30 am after a breakfast of 1 gallon of water and two cups of java. We met, stretched a little, frassed, and eventually meandered over to the start. I was introduced to FeeJ's buddy Ryan and we milled about on the street waiting for a Port-a-John and getting anxious listening to the announcer do the pre-start countdown...which seemed closer than would allow us to actually get a chance to get to pee.
Moda miraculously found us in the throngs, we waited and waited until the buzzer announced the start and waited some more. (A fellow runner told me not to worry. As soon as the buzzer yelped the lines would dissipate to free us up to pee. And they did. And thank you, miss.)
FeeJ and her Garmin were great for mellowing me out from the get-go (my instinct being to catch up with the crowd...and to stop dancing to N-Sync's "Bye-Bye-Bye") and keeping a steady pace for the first few miles. My only running goals (while, you know, actually "running" ) were not to get too ahead of myself speed-wise, and to hopefully "open'er up" around mile 10 if I was feeling good. We had some Coach-Moda and D-Gang sightings on the first few miles with Moda playing Drill Sergeant during my more juvenile race-moments of air-drumming during "Stone-in-Love" ("IF YOU HAVE ENOUGH ENERGY TO AIR-GUITAR, YOU SHOULD BE RUNNING FASTER!")
Duly noted.
After doubling back across the Stone-Arch (and memory of how last year I was starting to "feel" it.) we hit the hills (soundtrack-"Run, Run Away"). I kept up with double-fisting the water and Powerade, making sure to knock back the "Ade" FIRST then warsh it down with water. I skipped the GU and kept the beat with my mix and tried to just keep moving forward. Short steps. Upright posture. By mile 8 or 9 (I think) I was feeling fine on the uphills and doing my best to power-down the downs then level-off. I had enough in my tank. And I actually felt okay.
FeeJ and I parted ways a little bit before the turnaround back to the "G", and while I had hoped to keep with my plan of putting on speed for the last 3 miles I had mis-read the mile marker and slowed down thinking there were really 5 miles left (whoops) when it was more like 2.5. And then when I was increasing my speed on a particular downhill, I was weaving between runners when I caught a pothole which twisted my ankle in and I had to do the quick 10 second assessment (Is it broken? Can I put weight on it?) My back was frassy, but I figured at least my engines were moving me forward. And holy crap did it scare me.
My coaches had been hollering encouragement from the sides of the roads for the last few, but I'd be lying if I said I was actually listening. Outside of confirming with Moda there was only a mile or so left, I plugged back in ("Roll with the Changes") and figured I should power on through to the end. My breathing was still okay and there wasn't any gorge coming back up under the bridge heading toward the finish so when I saw the balloons and crap I figured I should just see how fast I could go, consistently, to finish.
And no shit, I finished in 2:08. Nearly 30 minutes off of my time from last year. I didn't even have tunnel vision. For her part, as proud as she was and proud as I was that she came out to cheer? Mother did not hug her sweaty second-born. For my part, I kept it together long enough to run (ha!) back to the finish-line and cheer on my friend FeeJ. Good job, love. Tremendous job for someone who hadn't ran a mile one year ago.
And now, Moda is already telling me I should try shaving off time to get sub-2 with my next run. I haven't decided if the Red, White, and Boom will be the next race (It's tropically prohibitive in MN in July.) but maybe, just maybe I'll try it for the Monster Dash?
God knows I'm wearing my hypocrisy quite well. ("This is the first and LAST half I'm doing! Time to cross THIS off the Bucket List...LOL!" Mikey, circa 2010)
But maybe I can do that. Moda, Gangs, et.al have made me think about things while running that I've been able to practically apply to both my training and race day: Use what's in the tank and leave it on the course, and push yourself. I think it was my rationale that I'd try and run the last 5K at a faster tempo that I figured that maybe I wasn't pushing my self as hard as I could. I could have just plodded out the half and finished this year. And been done. Hey. Another medal and wicker shirt. But who was stopping me. I wasn't injured. I was (thankfully) not broken from that pot-hole. The only thing keeping me from getting up those hills would have been me. And I was all like..."Fuck those hills." No really. In my brain, I couldn't respond to my friends because I was making wine under my feet. With the hills. Wine-Hill-Fucking. Whatever makes your PR, right? Shut it.
And thanks for humoring me these last few weeks. I can't promise that it'll end with this race. Shoot...I can't even post a gardening blog until the whirli-gigs stop falling. And I hope that maybe you'll see that any/everyone can start this insanity.
Race Day Raiment. Not only was I color coordinated like a Chaplin movie, but Under-Armour was my unofficial race day sponsor....down to the wrist-bands. Note "hankerchief head-band of power".
Pre-race happiness. At the Depot, and before the pain, 6/5/11
Motivational phrases at the starting line.
The line of runners, along W. River Parkway on race day- 6/5/11
Finishing line. I won't lie...last year they had a marching band playing. And I really, REALLY wanted the marching band back.
There were 3-4 things I wanted for this race. Remember? Strong finish, Do not stop to walk, disregard the PR and run my own race. Oh, and be standing and smiling at the end. The Guiness...well that was another charitable act on behalf of some spectators. Thank you for the carbs and kindness.
No comments:
Post a Comment