Last Race Salvation

I guess I should wrap up what happened, now that I've had time to reflect on it.

It started a few days after the league championships. I went in and talked to Coach, wondering what the fuck happened this season. It wasn't fair, I had put in more work slowly and steadily, without injury, without making myself too sore, and I hadn't seen any rewards.

We looked over my training schedule. Upon closer inspection, we came to two conclusions. First, I was running my base runs far too fast. I thought that a little more quality rather than quantity would be a good thing, but I overdid it. I had a 77 mile week (from a Wednesday-Wednesday) where my average pace on the week was a blistering 6:14/mile. Average. I was running my normal runs around 6:10 pace, my hard runs around 5:45 pace, and my long runs around 6:40 pace. Even with the 7+min pace warm ups for workouts, it was just too much. While each run wasn't making me sore itself, the accumulation of all that tired, tired muscle was just too much on my body, and I wasn't responding to track workouts.

It was not like it hadn't helped. I was absolutely crushing the over-distance work, compared to myself previously. But the speed, though it wasn't that bad, wasn't fast. In fact, the times were as fast as I had ever run at the beginning of the season, first workout, first race, and I was excited. Look back a couple months and see, I really was excited.

But then I didn't get faster, and the workouts didn't get any easier (at the same pace), and I didn't get any more 'pop' in my legs.

The second thing we noticed was that I was doing the same thing, I.E. stimulating the same muscles over the past 8 months. I would do 10 mile base runs without fail, 1 workout of mile or 1k repeats, 1 10mile hard run, and a 14-16 mile long run. Repeat for 30 weeks. Sure, it makes you strong, but not the kind of strong that middle distance runners should be. Strong, but not powerful. And in the 1500m you need to be just that - powerful.

I was not overly excited going into what was likely my last race of the season. The times hadn't played out for me like I had thought it would, not even close. The wins were there, and that was fun, but I need the times to get to the next level.

So, we did what we thought I should have been doing, and rested. All week, I did nothing but 40min trots and ONE 6x200 @ 31s pace. Just resting.

As I toed the line for the last time, I was probably as unenthusiastic for a race as I had been in years. I just thought - fuck it, sit in and see what happens.

I was pulled through in 63, and then 2:05....and I felt fine. It was 3 seconds faster than I had gone through all season, and I felt just fine. Just sitting. With one lap to go I was at 2:52.low, and I still felt fine. Hit 1200m at 3:07.mid, and I just started sprinting. Sprinting and sprinting and sprinting, I wanted to run a good mark so bad. All of the memory of work and hopes and sweat and vomit came rushing back as I sprinted my legs out from under me. I sprinted too early, and was a walking dead man in the home straight. It was stupid, it was amateur, but I didn't care. I was being passed by people who had timed their move right, but I didn't care. I just willed my stone legs forward until I crossed the god damn line in 3:54 and it's not the time I had planned for the season but fuck it its finally vindicated what I put myself through and no matter what happens from here on out at least I can say that on one day I ran a 3:54.

Is that good enough for me? Of course it's not, I'm a runner. I'm not in it for the views and the lovely pace of trotting along, feeling great about myself for how in shape I am. I'm in it for the transformative pain that one can only learn about by putting themselves through it, without anyone else to tell them when or why. I ran a smart race with a dumb kick, and I'll learn from it.

And hey, if I start my season next year at 3:54 after what I've learned, I'll know what to look forward to.

Finals, 3rd Act.

Okay, NOW I'm nervous.

I don't know how the race will go, and it's unsettling.

I can win. I know I can win.

I don't really have much to say, it was a pretty uneventful final. Someone who had no business leading the race at all took it out in 62, and the field quickly strung out. My teammate Bennett, who had the fastest seed time by miles coming into the race, follows him. I try to go with the move but I'm boxed. By the time I'm out, he's far far around the bend.

It's alright, we're only 600m into the race. Lots of running to go.

Bennet extends his lead through 800m, as I lead the chase pack around the original leader, fighting the harsh winds on the backstretch. I'm more tired than I think.

Coming around with one lap to go, Bennett is way out in front, and I'm leading the chase pack that has been whittled down to 3 men. Having run the steeplechase the night before, I can see Bennett tying up. I start to move. I don't care about the two men hanging on my back.

I'm desperately closing the gap, step by step. Coming around the final bend I'm still over one second back. Yards closing between us become feet, then inches. I'm tying up. With 50m to go I realize that I'm not going to catch him. The two men following me are still on my shoulder, having matched every step thus far. Don't you fucking lose this spot.

I hold on for second. Freshman year, 5th. Last year, 3rd. This year, 2nd. But that doesn't tell the whole story. This year was far weaker. I ran slower than last year. I ran pretty similar to Freshman year. Prelims can explain some of that, but I wasn't really 'springy' for this race. I was right to worry, my speed hasn't come around like I'd like it too.

 I don't know if these last few weeks will see my months of toil pay off, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried. Maybe I'll try the 5k. We'll see. I have to do SOMETHING with this strength.

Prelims, year 3

I'm not even nervous at the line. Not even a little bit.

I know I should be, because you never know what's going to happen, but I'm just...not.

I don't think there's any way that I don't make the final. I expect it not to hurt, which is stupid. Unless you're world class, running in high 4:0x range isn't a cakewalk. It can sting.

68, 70. We're walking, which is dangerous.

You never know who can be there on a kick. Someone takes it hard with 500m to go. Fine, let him go. Top 4 make the final and I don't need to run a 60.

3 follow him. Damn, maybe I do need to go.

Cutting around the turn we really are moving. I'm trying to relax in 4th, but there are two on my shoulder. Kicking around the final bend, we finish up right at 4:10, with a 59/60 last lap. Yes, that stung. More importantly, I hope my foot holds up. Plantar fascistic has been biting for over a week now.

Tomorrow, Finals.

Stagnation

I don't really understand what's wrong with me. I opened the season in 4:00 and it looked promising, but I'm still running 4:00 and we're two weeks away from conference finals.

I'm definitely fitter, my workouts have been faster, and running 64s in a race have felt super easy as opposed to hard, but when the running really starts I don't have anything. Today, I felt like I was on cruise control through 800m. I took over at 600, feeling fine. A couple guys went around me with 400m to go and I was in perfect position...but nothing clicked. I went from jogging to tying up without anything in between.

Every 4:00 has felt easier and easier, and this one was at 11am so maybe that had something to do with it, but fuck this is getting really annoying. I feel like I should be running 3:54 or thereabouts, this is ridiculous.

I'm hoping in the small amount of time I have left that I'll bust a fast time, but I'm running out of races. I don't know if it's my speed or anaerobic threshold or what, but this season is not turning out like I had thought it would at the start.

There's still salvaging time, but not a whole lot. We'll see. God willing, I can pull off a conference title in the 1500. That's still definitely in the cards.

Nerves

Before my race this weekend, my body was periodically shot with nervous adrenaline as it is before every race.

Thinking about it, what am I nervous about? I feel almost sick. I've had races where I've been FAR too nervous, and it has affected me. After this long, I've gotten pretty good at keeping the nerves at the right level.

But, again, what are the nerves signifying?

It may seem obvious to some, but I had an epiphany of sorts on my warm up. I'm not afraid of the other runners, I'm not afraid I'll let my teammates down, I'm not afraid I'll embarrass myself out there. No, if those things affected me, I wouldn't be where I am.

I'm really afraid of myself.

That after the race, I'll see my time, and it wont be good enough. What if my best just...isn't good enough? It's something I can't accept. I guess that's why I train. Hard.

I didn't have the best race this weekend. I ran a stupid tactical race, making 2 big surges to put myself into position, and when the running started with 300m to go I got left behind, barely dipping under 4:00. I was boxed in, going through 800m just under 2:10. AGAIN.

I digress. What I'm really afraid of is hitting the race perfectly, not making any errors, running as hard as I can...and running a slow time.

I feel as if every race, I am afraid I am not as fit as I think I am, and race to prove that I am every bit as fit as I hope to be.

I still haven't found that race, every one thus far has been a kickers duel (or I was horribly sick). Maybe next week.

Remembering Sickness

Well, that went poorly.

I've been sick for two weeks now, and I've been trying to tell myself that I would be fine before this weekend. I warmed up coughing, I did strides coughing, and I was coughing 10 seconds before the gun went off.

Ya, I'll totally be fine.

The elite field assembled before me was hard enough without my sickness, and it was just embarrassing with it. As the gun went off the pack started jogging, as elite fields are want to do. I took the lead and went through with pedestrian splits of 63/2:07.


I felt awful. My body was shutting down after 200m and I was fighting every step of the way. I'm upset that the race went as poorly as it did, not because of any poor tactical error on my part but simply because I couldn't fucking breathe out there.

I'm upset that I waited so long for this opportunity and a few fucking bacteria made me run 4:21 (4:03 1500) in a race that was won in 4:10 (4:52 1500). I wanted to go to everyone running and watching after the race and say "guys guys, I was sick. I'm not really that bad."

But I cant.

I also cant be a whiney little bitch about it. It's done, in the past, and I have these hopefully-fantastic antibotics to help me get well. They're having SOME sort of effect, my heads a little wonked out as I write this.

Do your stuff azithromycin. Get me better so I can run like I know I can.

6 Months Waiting

Coming through in 66 for the first 400m of our quad meet 1500m, I feel like shit.

Just stay here and cover moves I think to myself as I sit in 3rd.

2:14. Feels fast and I'm worried. It shouldn't feel fast.

500m to go pace heats up, and with just over 400m to go it drops like a rock. I think we pass the 1200m mark in 3:16.

Way off 1st, in 2nd with 3rd on my shoulder. Somehow I run down the leader to win, 4:00.

I was tired, it hurt, it felt too hard for the opening pace, the splits were everywhere, but dammit I won.


That was 2 weeks ago. We get 3 or 4 chances to run a real fast time in a season, and tonight is one of them. Oxy distance carnival is one of the best meets, because its, well, all distance. It's at night, so it's perfect distance running weather here on the outskirts of LA.

Since that race a couple weeks ago, my speed has slowly come around. We didn't have a workout last week and we just hammered workouts. Kenyon runs, 12x400 with 1min rest in 63-64, a few 400s in 54, a race simulator of 150s, 400s, and 200s all smashed together.

It was a rough week, but this lazy spring break week leading up to tonight has been very easy.

And I'm very nervous.

It's the first chance to run a great time, and I've been thinking about it for 6 months. At least. Without cross country (because I was abroad in the fall), there was no other races to focus on. Just thousands of lonely miles thinking about races to come. Like this. Like tonight.

My seed time is faster than I have ever run by 4 seconds, and it's basically the last seed in the fastest heat. Oh, a couple sub4 milers and a World Championship qualifying 800m guy? 2 more DII All-Americans also? Why not.

It doesn't really matter, I'll go out and hold on for dear life.

I AM nervous though.

Really nervous.

I don't know what I'm capable of running, but I hope it's fast enough. I'm seeded to run a 3:54 (~4:11/4:12 mile equivalent).

Let's try to run that, shall we?