Run4Kerri is a relatively high-profile local race that
attracts some fast runners from RI and surrounding states. I’d previously
done it in 2013 and 2014, opted for the Block Island Tri instead in 2015, was
in California for ’16 and ’17 and injured in ’18. In other words, I hadn’t done
this one in four years and was excited to give it another shot. Given how well
my other four-mile road race had gone this summer, I was assuming this relatively easy
course would be a sure-fire way to get a PR at the distance and maybe even a
chance to dip under 21 minutes. Based on my previous two attempts, this seemed
like a near-certainty – check out the table:
Year
|
Bridgton
4 on the 4th
|
Run4Kerri
|
Difference
|
2013
|
23:13
|
21:56
|
-77s
|
2014
|
21:53
|
21:40
|
-13s
|
2018
|
21:18
|
??
|
??
|
As the race drew nearer, two things threatened get in the
way of a strong performance: health and weather. A week before the race, after
finishing a dreadful track workout, my right knee seized up to the point that I had
to stop my cool down and walk for a bit. I took three days off, then ran with a
patellar tendon strap at Wednesday’s Fun Run, which seemed to help. However, I
didn’t want to race in that strap, so on Friday I ran easy without it and had
almost no pain. While the knee was improving, my digestive tract was worsening.
I won’t go into detail, but it was a tough few days and the issues had just
started to abate before race day.
As for the second threat, the weather has been unrelentingly
humid in recent weeks, and while the moisture level had dropped the tiniest bit
on Sunday, the heat would be rising back toward 90 degrees. Of course, with the
race at 9 AM, we wouldn’t face the worst of it, but we would have to
contend with less than ideal conditions in full sun.
I was joined at the race by Katie for the second time this summer. It’s
painful to have to get a babysitter just so we could both race, but that’s life
these days. We did an easy warm-up out on the first part of the course, sticking
to the shade where possible. My stomach was off but the legs were feeling quite
good, so I was optimistic about the race.
Start line WTAC photo by Jana. |
I bumped into Matthew on the line, and he commented on how
many fast people were in the race and that his top-5 goal was likely not going
to happen. I said something about how the heat can do funny things to people, so you know never know.
Before too long, we were off, up the short hill at the start and stringing out quickly. As is my habit, I counted the runners in front of me as soon as I
had a clear shot (maybe a ¼ mile in); I was in 11th at this point, behind eight guys and two women. I gradually passed a few people and
settled into 8th place at the mile, with Matthew directly in front
of me by 10 or so seconds, and someone shadowing me a few steps behind. (First
mile was 5:12.)
That someone, in a red jersey, passed me shortly after we
turned onto Moonstone Beach Road (just after Beth's encouraging cheers -- thanks, Beth!), and I did my best to stay within a few
strides. My legs had felt great up to this point but were now really starting to
feel the effort. I wasn’t expecting this to happen so early and I worried about
the rest of the race. For now, I just tried to keep the pace even and the
effort smooth, though that was getting progressively harder to do.
Ahead, I saw Matthew overtake one runner who quickly came
back to us. I eased ahead of my red-jerseyed friend at the same time but
figured he’d hang with me for a while, as he wasn’t showing any signs of
struggle. We also appeared to be closing in on the Colonel himself, who’d gone
for the Mile 1 bonus and was no longer feeling his oats. Turning into the
neighborhood, my friend and I passed Col. Sanders, and I attempted to surge up
the small incline before the steep one that marks the end of the third mile.
I had closed a bit on Matthew by this point but wasn’t
feeling that a spirited chase was in the cards today. He looked back around one
corner and must have been relieved to see it was me and not one of the speedy
guys behind us who were either having off days or not racing seriously. On
several occasions, I forced myself to get into a more aggressive posture, as
I’d kept falling into the backward-leaning death march pose that lets even the
casual observer pick out the faltering runner from the fresh one.
I look like I'm in disguise in those ridiculous sunglasses. |
I pounded the downhill past the fire house (as in slapped my feet on the pavement in a most inefficient manner), confident now
that I would neither catch nor be caught before the finish, and didn’t bother
attempting to kick, as it wouldn’t have done anything other than scare the
children watching the finish. I sadly watched the clock tick up toward that PR time, crossing in 21:15 (21:13 net time, since I started in the third row),
tying exactly my PR from two years ago. There was little solace in that, however,
since the PR was set on a much harder course in probably worse weather
conditions. I simply didn’t have it this day.
On the bright side, I’d finished sixth, one place behind
Matthew. It was cool to have two WTAC jerseys up near the front of this big
race. In order to preserve Matthew’s amateur status, the race organizers
donated his 5th-place prize money to me. (Isn’t it funny that he
can’t accept a measly $50, yet big-time college athletes in big-time college
sports can be wined and dined (and more, often) by the schools and their
boosters? Something just isn’t right about that. Let the kid buy a text book.) Katie nabbed 2nd in her age group, despite
feeling pretty awful and not having started training in earnest yet. She’ll be
back to her old self soon enough.
The most positive part of the race
was that my knee was totally fine, as if there had never been any pain in the
first place. I love these kinds of injuries, though they continue to baffle me.
On the downside, sub-21 will have to wait for another year. Now it’s time for
some fun local races and maybe a shot at a fast 5K in Providence next month.
A brief look at the data:
Looking at the mile-by-mile
breakdown, this year was consistently faster than the past two for the first ¾
of the race. In 2014, however, I had a big finishing burst, which, as described
above, wasn’t available to me this time, and that’s pretty obvious from the
chart below.
Looking at the raw paces, it seems
that I consistently slow over miles 2 and 3 before speeding up again for the
final mile. But this is at least partly due to the terrain. Fortunately, Strava
has provided us with GAP. I still don’t know if I trust GAP, but it’s better at
normalizing pace across elevation changes than anything I’ve come up with, so
let’s go with it. When viewed this way, a different story emerges. Specifically, I
ran remarkably even splits this year when adjusted for gradient. It came at a
cost (it would have been interesting to see a heart rate overlay on top of this), but
that makes me feel a little better about how the race played out.