If runners were flowers, this would be me.
I am, by any measure, quite a delicate flower when it comes to running. I've had my fair share of injuries over the years mostly because I am a pretty skinny kid with a funny habit of being overly enthusiastic about things...running included. That means when I start getting fit, I am prone to rocking workout after workout until my body says "screw you" and shuts off. Sometimes its from injury, and other times its just being overtired...but the result has been a lot of good races and a handful of pretty bad races mixed in over the course of my running days. The challenge in my running career has been getting to the starting line fit and ready to rock, once I'm there I usually perform just fine. Getting there can be a pain in the ass.
So after my 5k at Bananaman, it was important to get another big effort in while I felt my fitness was at such a nice peak. Another challenge was to run a serious effort at the half marathon distance. Believe it or not, this is something I have never done. Perhaps because I am a wimp, or maybe because of my delicate flower status as a runner. But with some time until my next big race, it seemed like a perfect time to cut down on volume a bit and experiment with a longer race. My only real success over 10k has come at the Great Aloha Run and the Maui Surf and Sand 15k, so I knew the challenge would be staying focused and keeping that composure when things got long.
The strangest thing about these long races, no one bothers getting excited at the gun and going out hard, I love the 5ks because even if I run 2:15 for the first 800, there will be someone nearby, just excited to run get out hard. My personal favorite is the Niketown 5k where approximately 20 Mckinley football players run the first quarter mile of the race in 60 seconds and then jog (or walk) the rest of the way.
Anywho, from the gun in the half, I could feel that I was completely alone. Luckily, I had a wingman, a partner in crime if you will. My hombre was non other than international superstar Matt Stevens. In an attempt to keep me from going out too hard or walking the 9th mile of the race, Matt woke up early and got on his bike to ride along next to me. He has a fancy pants computer on his bike which tells me how fast I am running in mph, so we figured out what pace that is for a 67 minute half and a 70 minute half and hoped if I had a really good day I would run somewhere in between these two numbers. Turns out to be about 507-520 mile pace. That sounded pretty darn hard.
My main worry was going out in 4:40 for the first mile, which I should not do any more because dammit I'm 25 and been doing this shit for 10 years, but lets just say pacing has never quite been my specialty...racing has. So off we go, a bit quick at a mile (458...an acceptable level of craziness for an enthusiastic runner like myself) up and over diamondhead relatively smoothly, and then the challenge of focus really started. From mile 4 I could tell you that 67 minutes would have been a tall order (even for someone with my copious amounts of height). Since I had officially made my goal 70 minutes, I just tried to stay relaxed and made a deal with myself not to look back under any circumstances.
Why the hell won't I look back? you might ask (you are quite smart...I'm impressed) I don't look back - or at least try not to - so that I am focused on myself out there. Focusing on what I'm doing in a race is simultaneously the hardest thing and the most important thing I can possibly do. I always tell the people I coach never to look back, and then I proceed to fight myself from looking back in my own races. I know how you feel people!! I want to see what is going on back there too, but its just not worth it :) By looking back you effectively accomplish 2 things: 1) You waste some energy because you don't run quite as smooth. 2) You show the people in back of you that you are worried about them. I can't tell you how many times I have been behind and seen them look back and say to myself "haha, I got you now sucka!!!" (ok, I'm not that cool to think about stuff so clearly in a race...I think my thought process probably is more caveman-esque....like "run faster....other guy tired")
So I focused as much as I could on being smooth and technically sound and actually felt pretty good, but as Matt gently reminded me, I was closer to 520 pace than 507 pace. At the turnaround, holy crap, it really hit home that I was totally alone. It took a few minutes of running back down Kal hwy before I even got to the next person in the race. I have always considered myself a pretty crappy time trialer and a much better racer, but in recent years I have gotten better at pushing myself. Luckily I got to run by some killer aid station workers who always carried me for about a quarter mile just off smiles and giggles.
I quickly took stock of the current situation. It was a tad windy but overall nothing too bad, and I figured the quicker I finished the less heat related problems I would have to deal with...so I made a concerted effort to move faster, trying to pick it up a bit on the way back. At 10 miles I was just about 53 minutes, and let me tell you, the prospect of running 5k more at that point did not feel particularly appealing. Staying focused on being smooth was becoming increasingly difficult. As I climbed back over diamondhead I am confident I could legally be considered a race walker. There was very little lift left in my legs and my arms were crossing over my body much like a psych ward patient in a straight jacket.
Luckily, Stefan, Stackhouse, and a small cheering squad of swim buddies were right across from Outrigger to give me a little life just after 1k to go, which I used until 600 to go when my legs were just seriously gonzo. Normally I can find a way to be springy and light on my feet at the end of a race, but not today. I tried to keep my composure as best I could but I felt like whatever I was doing looked more like a skeleton doing the macarena than actual running.
Official time, 1:10:02. Right now that fact that I was that close to breaking 70 minutes does not bug me, but if that ends up being my PR, I will be pissed :)
In retrospect, the effort was quality (I would estimate I had the post-race brainpower somewhere between chimp and monkey), as I had a very hard time recovering from that race, and the fact that I was so well clear of the field has to be a nice indicator that this was a great long distance race. I feel like I have a lot to learn when it comes to long distance races, as I only took water over the entire course, and definitely felt my legs were slowing me down instead of my heart and lungs. Overall, it was a great learning experience and I'm happy to have run as well as I did.
If you made it this far, God bless you, my ramblings have finished...that's all from me. Time for a few days off and a few days of hard swimming and then I'll start crackin towards my next big race (Wharf to Wharf in Santa Cruz at the end of July)
Toddicus.
