I have a love/hate relationship with the Mile. I've done well the few times I've raced it, but never without pain. So much pain that, after little more than a quarter mile I've wanted to slow down significantly and make it go away. But I can't. I've run so well so far and there isn't that much farther to go. That's how the mile sucks you in. The end is always so near. I can do it I tell myself. And I can't slow now, not in such a short race, there's no margin for error and it'll ruin everything. And not in front of all these people who line the street for the entire length of the race. The hard core, New York Race Community, all screaming madly. That would be too embarassing. So I speed on despite how much it continues to hurt.
And so, as I lined up yesterday, I felt scared. I knew what the blocks from 8oth Street to 60th held in store.
The Fifth Avenue Mile is the shortest of the New York Roadrunner races and the only 1 run in seperate heats based on age groups. I was with the 60 to 69 year old men and women, a group totaling, probably, less than 150. There were surely more spectators waiting to cheer us on.
I tend to do better as the race distances shorten. As this was also a team race I especially wanted to do well, so I pushed up to as close to the starting line as possible. I got to the fourth row and looked for someone a bit faster than me to pace off of. As I had absolutely no idea who that could be, I stood there wondering how I could start off fast enough for a really good time but not so fast that I'd be in the pain that I feared.
No way to do that, of course.
The starter announced 1 minute till the gun. I edged into the third row. The gun went off. I jumped around 2 slower people and I was running. Locked on to someone ahead of me and went by him. Went by a few more feeling very strong. Just passed 75th Street, on the left, was the quarter mile clock. It was under 80 seconds as I approached...exciting! I hit it at 83, my fastest quarter in years.
But that first quarter mile is tricky. It's all downhill. Gives a misleadingly quick time. The second quarter has 3 blocks of an extremely tough hill. I passed 1 or 2 runners as I crested it. The half mile mark was just ahead and I crossed it at 3 minutes flat. A great time for me, giving me an excellent chance to beat last year's 6:12. But it also meant I'd need to be a tiny bit quicker to break the 6 minute mark.
And I felt awful. Exhausted and hurting. Wanting to slow but facing the conflict I knew I would. How could I throw away a 3 minute half mile when all I had to do was keep it up for a measly 3 more minutes?
The third quarter is gently downhill. I started counting the blocks. 69th, 68th, 67th, ok, I was more than half way done with it. No one had passed me. But I did let myself slow, almost unconsciously, for a bit. When I realized I'd done so (or maybe when the pain let up for a bit) I pushed the pace again. Not enough, though, as I hit 93...
...No chance now for a sub 6 minutes because the final quarter was flat. This depressed me for an instant; it seemed terribly unfair that I should be in this much pain and face a flat course. Now I was counting portions of blocks. Halfway to 64th Street, ok, now I've got it, half way to 63rd...when I heard a roar from the crowd. I was afraid I knew what it meant. A runner was coming up on me. He was kicking it home and the crowd was caught up in the competition. Sadly, however, I wasn't. I had no kick to answer back. I had all I could do to maintain pace. He went by me. But, happily, so did 63rd and 62nd Streets. 100 meters to go! Then that damn roar again. Someone else kicking by me. 61st Street. It's almost over. He goes passed and beats me by 1 second and I don't care. Someone else trying. This is too much. Maybe I do care. Maybe I can kick for 10 meters. I can. I cross 1 second before he does. It's over!
My official time is 6:07 which is really good. I'm 5 seconds better than last year, almost all of it because of my very fast first quarter. The extremely high humidity of 87% was likely a factor in slowing over the rest of the race. In better conditions I might have indeed bested 6 minutes.
But I did best all 3 of my Greater New York Racing Team teammates. I knew I'd beat 1 of them but the other 2 have generally raced faster than me. But not this time. I usually do better in the shorter races.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
I'M NO DEACON BLUES
Now that I'm writing again I've looked over past blog entries. It seems I enjoy writing about hope and achievement and doing better than expected. About the opposites, not so much.
Last year I wrote on the eve of Grete's Great Gallup that I hoped to do better than my dismal performance 12 months before. I didn't. It was worse. But you'll not find anything about my 10 minute mile 11 here. Similarly, I'd written about high expectations before the Disney 2010 Marathon. Nothing, however, about running out of steam barely half way through and wondering how I was going to negotiate 12 miles with no energy. The answerby the way: Extremely slowly.
This Summer, I loved writing on facebook about both my softball teams' long winning streaks. "I've forgotten what it's like to lose," I commented in 1 entry. Not too much detail, however, about our awful playoff ousters..."Now I've forgotten what it's like to win a post season series" I did not write anywhere.
Dwelling on what's I haven't written brought up Deacon Blues. Steely Dan sang in that 1970s tune:
They've got a name for the winners in the world
well I want a name when I lose
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide
Call me Deacon Blues*
I, however, do not want a name, Deacon Blues or otherwise, when I lose. I, apparently, want anonymity.
Grete's Half Marathon is coming up in 2 weeks and the Fifth Avenue Mile is this Saturday. I'm signed up for both. If you see nothing about the results here, assume I did not do well.
* The Demon Deacons were the nickname the awful football team of that decade at Wake Forest. I don't want to be called that, either.
Last year I wrote on the eve of Grete's Great Gallup that I hoped to do better than my dismal performance 12 months before. I didn't. It was worse. But you'll not find anything about my 10 minute mile 11 here. Similarly, I'd written about high expectations before the Disney 2010 Marathon. Nothing, however, about running out of steam barely half way through and wondering how I was going to negotiate 12 miles with no energy. The answerby the way: Extremely slowly.
This Summer, I loved writing on facebook about both my softball teams' long winning streaks. "I've forgotten what it's like to lose," I commented in 1 entry. Not too much detail, however, about our awful playoff ousters..."Now I've forgotten what it's like to win a post season series" I did not write anywhere.
Dwelling on what's I haven't written brought up Deacon Blues. Steely Dan sang in that 1970s tune:
They've got a name for the winners in the world
well I want a name when I lose
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide
Call me Deacon Blues*
I, however, do not want a name, Deacon Blues or otherwise, when I lose. I, apparently, want anonymity.
Grete's Half Marathon is coming up in 2 weeks and the Fifth Avenue Mile is this Saturday. I'm signed up for both. If you see nothing about the results here, assume I did not do well.
* The Demon Deacons were the nickname the awful football team of that decade at Wake Forest. I don't want to be called that, either.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
RESPECTABLE RUNNING
For the last few years, with rare exceptions, my racing has been poor. That changed a few months ago...to horrendous. At the Brooklyn Half Marathon in May I ran my worst half marathon by far, walking at every water station in the second half. A month later it was my worst 5 miler by far, done at a pace that would barely qualify as a decent training run.
I was losing any joy in racing; even my incentive to run was fading. Each time out was exhausting and disturbingly slow. If this continued I would stop running. And I didn't know what was the matter.
And then I had a thought. This all began fairly soon after I'd begun taking a medication for a minor discomfort. It seemed to elevate my heart rate and that became more pronounced as the weather warmed. I stopped taking it. I found a different (and satisfactory) way of remedying the original issue. I went out running and found it becoming easier. So I was able to train better.
And then I ran a 4 mile race in July. It was my worst ever for the distance. But NOT by far. Only by a little. It wasn't that my heart was going to fast, just that I'd not trained adequately. It was the first time a Personal Worst felt like a step forward.
After that my training really improved. About 30 miles per week and lots of high quality speed work. A 5 mile race in August that was only AMONG my worst...further cause for optimism. And more hard training.
That brings us to today's 4 mile race. My training times, particularly in track workouts, made me think I could run fairly well. But given the strange running place I've been all summer, it was really difficult to guess how well. Certainy faster than the 8:16 per mile of July. How about the 7:47 of April or the 7:38 of exactly a year ago? Or the 7:40ish pace I'd run in a series of 4 milers at the start of 2010?
I decided to beat them all. I mean, what fun is it to try for anything less when there's doubt? So my goal was a 7:30 pace to finish the race in 30 minutes or less. The danger in trying to run a somewhat agressive pace, of course, is overestimating your stamina, going out faster than your body can support for the entire distance and ending unhappy, in pain, at a snail's pace, as everyone parades by you.
I figured mile 1, containing the tough Cat Hill, would foretell what the rest of the race held. When I did it in 7:29, exactly on pace and not feeling bad, it looked good. I speeded up to 7:17 on gently downhill mile 2 and slowed a lot to 7:47 on the difficult West Side Hills of mile 3.
Tired and very uncomfortable I tried to calculate where I stood. Did I have a shot at 7:30 pace? Two miles under it, 1 over. The numbers refused to compute. Just had no idea what was needed. So I figured I'd better run it as fast as I could.
Fortunately the last mile is largely downhill. So I ran confidently until the final 300 meters which is an unpleasant uphill. By then I had no energy left to push. People for the first time began passing me as they kicked home. I had nothing to answer with. And that's how I cruised over the finish line.
In 29:54, a pace of 7:28.5! Top ten age group (9 out of 60) honors! A performance score (don't ask how it's calculated) above 70% for the first time in over 3 years! And my best time at this distance since July, 2008!
At my best I've raced 4 miles in under 28 minutes. Long way to go to get to that. But at least this was some respectable running.
I was losing any joy in racing; even my incentive to run was fading. Each time out was exhausting and disturbingly slow. If this continued I would stop running. And I didn't know what was the matter.
And then I had a thought. This all began fairly soon after I'd begun taking a medication for a minor discomfort. It seemed to elevate my heart rate and that became more pronounced as the weather warmed. I stopped taking it. I found a different (and satisfactory) way of remedying the original issue. I went out running and found it becoming easier. So I was able to train better.
And then I ran a 4 mile race in July. It was my worst ever for the distance. But NOT by far. Only by a little. It wasn't that my heart was going to fast, just that I'd not trained adequately. It was the first time a Personal Worst felt like a step forward.
After that my training really improved. About 30 miles per week and lots of high quality speed work. A 5 mile race in August that was only AMONG my worst...further cause for optimism. And more hard training.
That brings us to today's 4 mile race. My training times, particularly in track workouts, made me think I could run fairly well. But given the strange running place I've been all summer, it was really difficult to guess how well. Certainy faster than the 8:16 per mile of July. How about the 7:47 of April or the 7:38 of exactly a year ago? Or the 7:40ish pace I'd run in a series of 4 milers at the start of 2010?
I decided to beat them all. I mean, what fun is it to try for anything less when there's doubt? So my goal was a 7:30 pace to finish the race in 30 minutes or less. The danger in trying to run a somewhat agressive pace, of course, is overestimating your stamina, going out faster than your body can support for the entire distance and ending unhappy, in pain, at a snail's pace, as everyone parades by you.
I figured mile 1, containing the tough Cat Hill, would foretell what the rest of the race held. When I did it in 7:29, exactly on pace and not feeling bad, it looked good. I speeded up to 7:17 on gently downhill mile 2 and slowed a lot to 7:47 on the difficult West Side Hills of mile 3.
Tired and very uncomfortable I tried to calculate where I stood. Did I have a shot at 7:30 pace? Two miles under it, 1 over. The numbers refused to compute. Just had no idea what was needed. So I figured I'd better run it as fast as I could.
Fortunately the last mile is largely downhill. So I ran confidently until the final 300 meters which is an unpleasant uphill. By then I had no energy left to push. People for the first time began passing me as they kicked home. I had nothing to answer with. And that's how I cruised over the finish line.
In 29:54, a pace of 7:28.5! Top ten age group (9 out of 60) honors! A performance score (don't ask how it's calculated) above 70% for the first time in over 3 years! And my best time at this distance since July, 2008!
At my best I've raced 4 miles in under 28 minutes. Long way to go to get to that. But at least this was some respectable running.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
THREE RACES
Road races coming up on each of the next 3 Saturdays. I'm excited. Because I think I can post some pretty good times.
Not my best times, of course. It's been 5 years since I've had a personal best. Injuries, illness, aging have all gotten in the way. And, of late, my times have been truly horrendous. Slow, slow, slow and beaten by all sorts of people including those I'd regularly bested in the past.
Early this summer was the absolute worst. I was so exhausted during a couple races that I walked. All I wanted was for it to end. My times weren't even good for training runs. It was awful...totally non competitive.
And then I figured out how to make it better. And I have. Consistent 30 or so miles a week for the past 10 weeks. Plenty of hard runs. No injuries...or at least none that stopped my running...and getting faster! Track workouts at a pace I've not done in 3 or 4 years.
Now it's time to put it to the test. Four mile race in Central Park this weekend. Fifth Avenue Mile the next. Grete's Half Marathon the week after that.
Three races. Very different distances. Sure would be nice to run them all in times I'm happy with.
Not my best times, of course. It's been 5 years since I've had a personal best. Injuries, illness, aging have all gotten in the way. And, of late, my times have been truly horrendous. Slow, slow, slow and beaten by all sorts of people including those I'd regularly bested in the past.
Early this summer was the absolute worst. I was so exhausted during a couple races that I walked. All I wanted was for it to end. My times weren't even good for training runs. It was awful...totally non competitive.
And then I figured out how to make it better. And I have. Consistent 30 or so miles a week for the past 10 weeks. Plenty of hard runs. No injuries...or at least none that stopped my running...and getting faster! Track workouts at a pace I've not done in 3 or 4 years.
Now it's time to put it to the test. Four mile race in Central Park this weekend. Fifth Avenue Mile the next. Grete's Half Marathon the week after that.
Three races. Very different distances. Sure would be nice to run them all in times I'm happy with.
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