RACING FIFTH AVENUE

This is my first blog entry in almost 2 years. All sorts of bad things have kept me from writing because they've kept me from being athletic. Oh, I've tried being athletic. And I have done things. They just haven't felt like the kinds of things that I do. At least, not the quality. Not the speed. Not the effectiveness. Not the happy outcomes.

There were times that I thought I was on my way. And then something bad would happen. Maybe to my calf. Maybe to my achilles. Maybe to my hamstring. Maybe to body parts I'd never previously heard of. But something. And so, it would turn out, I wasn't on my way.

And then the Fifth Avenue Mile approached. I've only run it twice before, it's very exciting and challenging and I knew this year would not be my third. Too much chance of injury. Too painful. Too much a sure thing that I wouldn't do it very well. Because for a long time I haven't been able to run fast.

A few weeks ago strange things began to happen. I'd run an easy workout, modest pace, but my heart rate wouldn't jump up like it had been doing. It stayed nice and low like it used to, back in those days when I was running well. Then I ran a nice, easy workout and miles were suddenly going by more quickly. Had the course shortened? I wasn't running any harder.

And then one day during a speed workout something happened which hadn't happened in a long time...I actually DID run fast! And then, 2 days later, it occurred again, and, the following week, twice more!

So, I decided to race the Fifth Avenue Mile.

I did it in 2003 when I ran 5:56 and 2007 when I hit 5:49. Both times were wonderful...anything under 6 minutes is. But I knew I had no shot at such a performance this time. My workouts suggested that it would be good if I could break 6:30. The fragility of my body the last few years suggested that, if I tried, I'd tear something new. But I wanted to try.

When I tell people I'm going to race the mile, many say: "Oh, that's no problem. It's just a mile. You've run much longer than that." What they don't understand is the intensity of running "just" a mile. Of course I can run a mile. But now I'm going to be RACING it, and that means doing it as fast as I possibly can.

And there's no way to go as fast as you can without it really, really hurting. How much it hurts and when that starts depends on your speed at the beginning.

The Fifth Avenue course is slightly downhill for the first quarter mile. This sucks you in to running too fast to begin with. The next quarter is mostly uphill. Not a big uphill, but big enough to make it really hurt if you deprived yourself of oxygen by running the "fast" first quarter too fast. And if you do, when you get to the top of the hill at 70th Street, it's all pain to 60th Street and the finish line.

So I decided to pace myself. The head of my racing team is Bob Glover. He's a world renowned running writer and ferocious competitor who's a few years older than me. Injuries and age have slowed him a bit and enabled me, when healthy,to beat him occasionally. So he's intent now on beating me (and many others) to even the score. Including in the Fifth Avenue Mile.

I know some of Bob's recent training times. They're better than mine. He should beat me. So I decided to use that to pace myself. I'd stick with him on the first easy quarter and then up the hill to the halfway point. This would be faster than I can maintain so I'll forget about Bob then. The rest of the course is downhill so I'll just hold on for dear life and let gravity do its work.

At the starting line, I began worrying about reinjuring myself. I'd not run anything in 2 years quicker than 6:55. It was crazy getting ready to try to go way faster than that. My heart would be pumping wildly if I ran that intensely. Could it burst thru my chest and make me die? And, if it didn't, wouldn't my calf or achilles be likely to blow instead? Yet I also wondered if maybe I could not only break 6:30 but perhaps 6:15? And not blow up my heart or pull a muscle? Bob was 1 row ahead of me and just to my right.

We were off. It was a little crowded at the start and I moved laterally to find open ground. Bob ran straight ahead and separated from me. Was he running too fast for me to catch without putting myself in oxygen deprivation way early? I pushed my pace and caught up to him. About 200 meters in I had an interesting thought: This is too slow! I picked up the pace and hit the quarter mile mark in 1:27. I hadn't run this fast in a long time.

The hill began and I noticed 2 things. I was well ahead of Bob and all moisture had left my throat. I was TOTALLY dry. Nothing to swallow. Weird and very uncomfortable. I pushed up the hill, definitely slowing but no one was passing me. I did the second quarter in 1:36.5...3:03 for the half. I knew I was okay. Even if I slowed badly I'd still easily break 6:30.

If I could keep going, of course. It really hurt. It was very uncomfortable. But nothing seemed likely to burst.So I did keep going. Not fast, not slow. 1:32 for quarter 3 and 1:36 to the finish. There was a large group in front of me that I couldn't catch but no one passed me...I think...during the last half of the race.

I crossed in 6:12. Far better than my 6:30 goal and under the 6:15 that I didn't really think was possible. Twelfth in my age group of 53. My heart remains inside my chest and, apparently, working fine. So are the muscles in my legs. And I'll be ready to train hard again on Tuesday. With enthusiasm. Cause this race feels very much like the kind of thing that I do!

And now I've got 6:00 to beat...again!