5k

I wasn't going to write a race report for this but Lisa asked for a race report so here we go.

I needed a 5k tune up race to help me prepare for my goal race coming up in December. I narrowed my choices down to a small race right up the street from my house and a larger race on the OSU campus. I was leaning toward the Sunday race at OSU, which I thought would be flatter and faster and give me a better chance at running a PR and maybe even achieving my pie in the sky goal time of under 20 minutes. But when I woke up well rested on Saturday morning, I decided to go up the street and "get the race over with."

I wasn't really worried about the race. It was a tune up and I was just going to go out and run hard and go home. After registering, I went for a short warm up run and then waited for the race to begin. As we lined up for the start of the race, I looked around for the fast guys and was surprised to find that I really didn't see anyone who looked really fast. No young cross country studs, no CRC singlets. Scanning the small crowd, I counted four guys who I thought might be able to beat me.

The gun sounds and we're off. The course begins with a lap around the local high school track then down to the local bike path. Out and back. I take off and I'm immediately in the lead. I'm also immediately waiting for the fast guys to come up and pass me. I make it almost all the way around the track before I hear a guy approaching. He pulls up beside me and asks if I know where the course goes. I tell him and then he scoots ahead of me. In retrospect, I should have just told him to follow me.

So I head down the hill, running hard, trying to stay close to the guy who is ahead of me. We hit the bike path and head north. Before I know it we pass the first mile marker. I glance at my watch and it says 6:13. It didn't feel particularly fast so I decided to just keep pushing. Before I knew it the guy who was in front of me was coming toward me. He held out his arm and we high fived as we passed each other. I went around a bend and there was the turn around point. Half way there.

I turn and start heading back, realizing that there is no way I'll catch the guy who is ahead of me. Then I see the two guys who are closest to me and they are about exactly as far behind me as I am behind the leader. I'm not quite as confident about my ability to hold these guys off. Twenty or thirty feet later, I see the next two closest guys. They are far enough back that I realize that the worst I'm going to finish in this race is fourth place.

So I'm in this really strange place. Never before in my racing career have I been one of the leaders. I did finish third in a race but it was a one mile loop course with 4 different race distances all running together so I didn't know that I was third place until I finished the race. This was different. I was fully aware that I was in second place and it was a really, really strange feeling. I was out there all by myself with no one to push me except me. So I ran and kept pushing hard, occasionally sneaking a peek behind me when I would go around a bend, to see if anyone was gaining on me.

I know the course like the back of my hand so I'm surprised to find during the third mile that I don't know where I am on the course. I'm so focused on pushing hard that I'm not keeping track of my surroundings. Suddenly, I see a bridge up ahead and know exactly where I am. I cross the bridge, go around a bend then veer off to the left and start heading toward the hill that leads back to the track, and the finish line. I sneak one last peek as I turn toward the hill. I'm totally shocked that there is absolutely no one behind me. I glance at my Garmin. Only .6 miles to go. I push up the hill and onto the gravel path that leads to the track. All I'm thinking about is how uncomfortable the gravel feels and how much it must be slowing me down. I finally get off of the gravel and turn onto the track. One lap to the finish.

I glance at my watch and it says 18:xx. I was so focused on running hard that I hadn't even been looking at my pace or my time since the first mile split. Suddenly, I remembered that I was hoping to run sub 20:00. As I started my final push I tried to do the math. I was pretty sure that I had sub 20:00 in the bag but I wasn't positive. I started sprinting around the track. As I make my final turn I can see the clock and I know I'm going to make it. I cross the finish line and a guy shakes my hand and hands me a 2nd place overall plaque. I finished in 19:42, an average pace of 6:21.

Now for the really weird part. People start congratulating me and patting me on the back and wanting to shake my hand. I mean, I realize I just finished in 2nd place but I also realize that it's only because none of the really fast guys decided to race today. So OK, sure, I'll take the second place but the important number is the 19:42, which is a :44 PR and validation that all of the hard training I've been doing is paying dividends. That's the number I'm proud of and that's the number that has real meaning. I'll have to wait until December to find out what that number really means.