Christmas 10K

After some peer pressure and internal deliberation, I've decided to give this running blog thing a shot.  I know myself well enough that I won't make any promises to provide weekly updates or to log every run.  Instead, I'm hoping that recording some of my training and racing over time will cumulatively result in a historical reference that I can easily comb through while preparing for future races or reliving the glory days.  Also, I spend so much time reading the blogs of my WTAC brethren, it's only fair to subject them to my own.  So, there you have it.  Now let's jump right in.

I had promised myself that I wouldn't specifically train for any races in 2013.  After enduring many years of injuries, this was to be my "run for the fun of it" year.  But my running loneliness got the better of me, and when I had the chance to jump into a training group with Jonny, Nate, and Mike G., I went for it.  They were embarking on a 10K training plan with a focus on the Christmas 10K in Newport, RI.  I hadn't run a 10K in over 5 years, so why not give it a shot?

Plot of the gap between my PR and the WR in various events. If only one
of those was 0%...

Yesterday, we put our training to the test.  My goal coming into the race was to run 5:30 pace, which would put me just over 34 minutes.  On a good day, I thought I might be able to dip under 34, and a great day might even mean a PR (33:43).  The 10K is not my best event.  In fact, based on my Optimal Event Curve (TM), it might be one of my worst, but it's not a bad thing to stretch yourself every once in a while.  With the uncertain weather forecast, I was all set to put aside any time aspirations and focus instead on helping secure a WTAC team victory.  But the weather turned out to be quite nice -- shorts and tank-top weather for some (lunatics) on my team -- so the 5:30 pace plan was on.  Time to see how well I had prepared.

The race went out as expected.  Galoob shot to the lead and I settled into the gap between him and Jonny and Bob Jackman, right where I had planned to be.  The first mile is net downhill, and I hit the split in a comfortable 5:16.  Right around this time, I heard footsteps approaching.  It wasn't the pitter patter of Jonny's quick stride, so who was it?  I didn't have much time to think before a lumberjack of a fellow sidled up next to me.  It was Bob, clearly feeling strong and continuing to push the pace as he went by.  I decided to take advantage of our size disparity and fall in behind him on the windy stretch in mile 2.  This can be a risky move if you end up behind one of those old school runner types who hasn't showered since April; fortunately, Bob had recently Vidal Sassooned his beard, so I willingly followed his squeaky clean wind-break.

We spent the next four miles in roughly this position.  Bob leading, me following.  He threw down some grunt-fueled surges every time I got up on his shoulder, and I did my best to cover his moves.  I didn't really pay any attention to anything on the course besides Bob through this stretch.  At one point, I remember slipping on some seaweed, and at another a car rudely pulled out in front of us, leaving us breathing in a cloud of exhaust.  The rest is a blur.  My only plan was to continue running ~5:30 pace and to be within striking distance of Bob when we hit the final mile.  Mile 2-5 splits: 5:30, 5:26, 5:35, 5:32.

Suffering is correlated to degree of lower lip hang.

This is an 8 out of 10. (Photo courtesy of Jana Walker)

After we hit the 5-mile mark, I accelerated up the long gradual hill and finally got some separation.  Now I just needed to maintain the pressure as long as I could so that he wouldn't have a chance to respond.  I soon discovered that I'd been relying on Bob for more than wind relief; he was also my navigator.  I didn't know the course and apparently neither did the police officers manning the intersections.  When I approached the first officer, I mustered a slurred "which way?", to which he slowly pointed left just as I was hitting the intersection.  Coming down the next hill, I spotted another officer.  Must be a right turn, otherwise why would he be here?  I asked him where to go, and he ignored me.  I asked again, and he shrugged.  Didn't Galoob and a pace car already come through here?  I started to make the right turn but was saved by Bob's yell to go straight.  What a good guy.  I totally would have waited a few more seconds before redirecting an opponent.  (Just kidding...I think.)  I frantically picked up the pace after getting back on the course and tried to make sure my blunder didn't cost me 2nd place.  I gave everything I could on the final hill, crossing the line in 34:04, less than 10 seconds ahead of Bob, to whom I really owe this race in so many ways.

It was awesome to join Mike at the finish line and see four more WTAC runners - Jonny, Jeff, Nate, and Seth -- cross the line in succession behind Bob.  What a team performance.

A potpourri of prizes were available after the race (I made off with beer, a gift certificate, and a radio).  We celebrated as a team (minus Jonny) with a solid lunch before heading home.  I'm not sure if I'm more satisfied with the race or with the burger.  A sure sign of a good day.