RUNNING RIDGEWOOD

I wanted to run fast at today's Ridgewood 5K to confirm for me that I still can. Yes, I ran very fast at a similar race just a few weeks ago, but none of my other recent races have been anywhere near as good. And since there were some problems at that 5K I've begun wondering if they even measured the course correctly. Perhaps it was too short?? So I want a good performance just so I can be sure.

But today wasn't a good choice for a confidence builder. The day was warm and humid...much more so than I've been running in this year...and the start was late and that just let the day get even warmer and more humid. In fact, my singlet was soaked from just the warm up and sweat dripped down my forehead and throughout my body. So, as I stood at the starting line, waiting to begin I wondered if I was even capable of hitting my goal of under a 7 minute pace.

A 7 minute pace would get me to the finish of a 5K in 21:42. Just a week earlier, in Central Park (a tougher course than Ridgewood) I did 7:17 pace for double the distance. Could I take so much time off now, especially with this forboding (from a runner's perspective) weather?

Well, after 1 mile I was sure that I could. I did it in 6:36! All I had to do was just stay relatively close to this pace and it would be great...but I couldn't! The heat, the humidity, my elevated heart beat all combined to slow me down. Mile 2 was 7:03, a way too steep slow down from my speedy start. But then people began shouting that mile 3 was down hill. I kept looking ahead in anticipation, but all I kept seeing were rolling hills. Downs followed by ups. I cruised on the down parts but the up sections were too much. Where were the down parts only???

Midway through mile 3 my training partner and buddy Wanda came flying by. She is such a strong runner late in races...and it just pisses me off that I should be holding on for dear life while she is cruising. She lengthened her lead and I knew I had no chance of catching her...till we hit a down hill and she didn't seem to speed up but I did. Soon I was drawing even with her, breathing hard and feeling dazed and in pain. Was the race almost over? I couldn't tell. If it was I could push to the finish but now, coming up, I saw another hill. Too much! Wanda pulled away again.

Well, there was no mile 3 marker, but soon I saw the finish line and the clock ticking. It was nearing 21:30 and I was nearing it. With a final push that sent my heart rate to a number it hadn't hit (165) in a long time I crossed the finish at 21:33 a very respectable and gratifying 6:57 pace on a tough day.

A bit later I looked at the official results. I saw the runner who took first in my age group...but there was no one else in our group between him and me. That seemed odd...I was sure there was. What did it mean that there wasn't? My oxygen addled brain couldn't quite compute it. So, when I received the award for second in my age group I still felt surprised. But in a good way, of course.

Now if I could just get those second and third mile times a little faster...