THE MILE RACE

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.