Fumbling My Chance

I stand in awe and dismay as the metro that is supposed to take me half an hour away to my race just goes right through the station without stopping. Every so often the metro cars will be 'no passenger' in DC, and it was just my stupid luck that it happened to be this one.

This train would have put my 2 blocks from the start line at 9:15am, a solid 45min before the start of the race. The next yellow line train that will take me to the same place won't come for another half an hour, and I can't wait that long. I grab the Green line, pop out about halfway between where I started and the course, and grab a cab.

Traffic traffic traffic traffic and suddenly I'm there. 9:50am. Shit.

I pay, run through the thousands of people waiting for the bathroom, into the gym, grab my bib number, and sprint to the starting line. 9:54am. I cut my warm up clothes off, throw my flats on, and briskly jog along, trying to warm up and pin my number on at the same time.

shit shit shit I don't have time to warm up! It's okay its a perfect day, just go with it the race is 5 miles you can work into it. Don't worry you'll be fine remember the plan

They have us stand at the line just before 10am, sing the national anthem, get some remarks from everyone and their god damn dog involved with the process. It's 10min past start time and they haven't let anyone move. Stupid race directors. I should've used this time to keep jogging, regardless of what they were saying.

As the gun goes I stretch out, light from having a couple recovery days but stiff from not warming up. I slide in behind a couple Kenyans and let them do the work. They're here to win money and are undoubtedly faster than I am, I just want a fast time.

The first mile is pancake flat. I don't see any mile marker but I see we've been running 6 min so it's well behind us. The road turns down softly, and I get left behind by a few guys as the group splits, leaving me and one other guy together.

I see the 2mile mark approaching. It's literally a guy with an orange vest standing on the side of the road waving a flag that says '2miles.' Ridiculous, I know. So ridiculous in fact that I don't check my watch until we're just past him by 10 meters or so. 9:59, maybe a few ticks faster at the 2mile.

The road continues downward and I'm in no mans land. I hit the turn around and I'm tightening up Jesus this is painful, stretch out you're slowing down stretch out

I turn and head back up the way I came and I'm dying a slow, slow death. My legs just will not respond to me. They're feeling the first two miles and I'm in a territory I haven't been in in over a year. I'm pushing back up, probably past 3 miles now. I don't know. I'm barely moving.

All I can think is that I should just drop out, I'm going to be nowhere near the time I want. But I know I'm not going to, I didn't train this hard to drop out of a race, regardless of how hard I'm tanking the 4th mile.

I lose track of where I am. Someone says there's half a mile to go. Someone else says there's a mile to go. Eventually the road flattens out and I see the finish, a long long way off.

I'm confused. There's race pain but my vision is getting blurry. This is new, it's like I'm wearing blinders. I try to wipe the sweat away but nothing happens. Slowly I can't see much of anything, all I can do is run and hope there's not a hole to rip my ankle off

I cross the line in 27low. 27:09? It doesn't matter. I absolutely blew up.

I lay on the grass as thousands of people stream across the line over the course of the next half hour. It's all just a swirl, the conversation in my head isn't one of anger, or disappointment, just sadness.

I'm sad I missed the opportunity to run well. I know I'm fit, I know I'm capable of far better, I just went out and tried to be a hero on my first race back. Dying a slow death is the most painful way to run, and lord that death march will haunt my legs for months to come.

I don't know how fit I am, but I'm fitter than that. I wonder what would have happened if I tried to run 25:30 or 25:50 instead of 24:50. Maybe I would have run faster, maybe I would've died just the same.

I sit here, 6 weeks away from heading back to school, 6 months away from conference championships and 7 months away from NCAAs. I don't know what to expect, but all I can do is train the best way I know how and hope for the best.

Hopefully I won't pull this shit again. All I can do is learn from it and move on, I suppose.

Rediscovering Racing

So the 5k didn't go like I thought or hoped it would, but it wasn't that bad of a showing.

The results list me as running 16:09, but the course was clearly long. I hit the miles at 4:55, 10:10(5:15), & 15:20(5:10) and sure as hell didn't run ~40 seconds for my last 0.102 miles. They had the finish further away than they had the start line so it would finish in a parking lot rather than on a narrow footpath. I cooled down by running the course again with my Garmin, and based on the 5k finish I saw and the difference in the length of the course, I hit 5k around 15:45-15:50, so that's what I'm taking away from this race as a time.

Neurotic tendencies aside, a few things of note from the day -

1 - Ran alone the whole time, 2nd place was something like 17:20

2 - Turns. There were three 180 degree turns, and about four or five 90 degree turns. There were really only two real spots where I could stretch out for over 400m. The picture I added gives credence to this, it basically snaked along this walkway the entire time. It was flat as I could've asked for, so no complaints there.

3 - Man, I forgot to race it in the middle. I got complacent with pace and didn't push as much as I should have. It felt super super short. It hurt at the end, but more of a tempo hurt than a real race. The most important aspect of racing well is really knowing how to push yourself, so that your time IS what you're capable of running, and not what you're capable of running using 85% of your energy.


With all of these excuses and analysis of the day in mind, I set out for my Sunday long run.

I clipped along easily, tight but not overly tired by any degree.

I ran 14.5 miles at 6:37 pace for my normal 'slow' run, and that tells me all I really need to know about the day -

That I didn't push it 100%, that even a pace just north of 5min feels hot, and that my base is fantastic.

By the time track rolls around I'll be itching to strap spikes on and go for a tear on the Track, even if I have to work my way down from 28sec 200s to do it.


Edit: Purdy puts 15:48 as equal to a 26:06, which I'm fine with effort wise. Hopefully when thanksgiving rolls around I can get my legs under me, work with competition, and bang out a real fast time.

Shout out to all my teammates who just got an At-Large bid for NCAAs XC!! You had me worried there for a second but I never doubted you. I'll be watching come next Saturday.

Questions on Questions

I don't really know how fit I am.


It's been months of lonely base work with a couple more to go. I've been putting in the miles and occasional workout and can feel myself getting stronger, but I don't really know exactly how much stronger. I haven't raced since the 4th of July.


On Saturday, I'm hopping in a local 5k, and on Thanksgiving I've got a very competitive 8k lined up. The 5k is more of a reintroduction to racing after nearly half a year without it, which will make the 8k a better metric a couple weeks later.

The thing is - I have no idea how fast I'm prepared to run.


Oh, I have a general sense. I've split 16:0x through 5k for 8k, so I assume I can run faster than that. I've been running 72/73s for 1k repeats fairly easily when I do it with other people, but 72/73 for a 5k is right around 15flat for a 5k. Am I that fit? The last (& only) time I ran that fast was when I ran a downhill rip off of a 5k.

What about 8k? How close can I get to 25:10? 25:00? 24:50? I honestly don't know.


And it's pretty exciting.


For someone who is constantly measuring themselves with test efforts year round, having a dry spell of this length is like having a fresh start.

And what could be better than that?

The Value of Rest

I woke up on Saturday morning and my legs were throbbing.

I had put in an average of 11 miles a day for the last 10 days and I had to take a day off. I went out and shuffle jogged around for 20min before coming back inside and spending most of the day doing recovery stuff.

I woke up on Sunday extremely hungover from Halloween parties the night before but physically feeling alright. I trotted out the door in the crisp fall air and just enjoyed the monotony. The thing is, I could tell I was moving faster than usual but I didn't care, it felt easy. Really really easy.

The miles peeled away without any over 6:50, and eventually I found myself done with the full 15 at 6:38 pace. I've run this sort of time before, but it's always because I'm running with faster people and am being pulled along relentlessly.


No so today, it just felt easy. So easy.


Skip to Monday night, an I'm headed out the door for my typical 10 mile base run. Again, I'm simply bouncing along, running at what I know is a solid base effort and I find the pace is pretty fast.

I'm at 2 miles in 11:51. Doesnt hurt, but then again it's only 2 miles. Understandable.

I'm at 5 miles in 29:50. Doesn't hurt at all. Okay now it's weird.

At 6 I'm still fine, and at 7 I start laughing, realizing that I'm going to run under 6min pace with no real hard effort at all.

59:38. Like walking.

Fuck I love running.