High Speeds

Warmed up about 1 mile before the race. This is the first Church-sponsered race I've heard of.

By 600 meters, the last competitor besides me and my Dad (a kid named Logan) had been dropped. My Dad led the first quarter, I led the second. For splits, please refer to his blog. Then I betrayed him. I let him lead the next mile, when the plan had been for me to trade quarters. Fair racing tactics, I guess. Then I kicked with 800 to go. I ended up gapping my Dad by 6 seconds.

Logan took third. Then it went Joseph, Jenny, Jacob, and Julia (all between 14:30 and 14:55). Cooled down five miles.

Logan came and ran the first 4 with us. All easy. For scouts:

45 pushups in 1 minute, 1 pullup, 46 situps reached to my toes (however far that is)

Every runner has dual personalities. (Some have more, but those are the exceptions). I'll call the two personalities Mr. Lazy and Mr. Athlete.

Mr. Lazy is (naturally) lazy. He hates pain. When things get hard, he gives up. Mr. Lazy is what makes you think sometimes, at the end of a marathon, when you've crashed and people are passing you, "I don't care, I just want to get this over with." 

Mr. Athlete is the polar opposite of Mr. Lazy. He loves to win. He loves to run fast. He looks on pain as the price of running fast. When you see people passing you, Mr. Athlete sees red. He screams at your legs to move faster.

Mr. Lazy and Mr. Athlete are constantly at war. When Mr. Athlete loses, he is invigorated. He is determined to win next time. When Mr. Lazy loses, he gives up. 

Last week, Mr Lazy won. I quit. This time, Mr. Athlete was determined to win. I ran 16:01. The last 1200 was misery. Mr. Lazy wanted to quit. But Mr. Athlete was stronger. I ended up out kicking my Dad by a second or so. Dave was out kicked by 4 or so seconds.

tapering for the half

easy

easy

Ouch. That's all I need to say :-)

I felt a little antsy for the first 4 or so miles. Then I felt pretty good for the next 3. I started feeling weird at mile 7. At 8, I was miserable. By the time I hit 10 miles (57:07, 10 mile PR (Also hit 10K PR for the first 10K of 35:20)) I was ready to stop. The next mile was uphill misery. I survived. The last two miles consisted of indescribable agony. My Dad mentioned a courageous push in the last mile. I didn't notice it. Pain had become the dominating factor in my mind.

    When I finished I couldn't believe it. Not only did I do better than I had expected, I was done. Somehow I had convinced myself that the half marathon would never end, that my ordeal was eternal torment. Thankfully it was only the longest hour and 15 minutes and 21 seconds of my life.

I can safely say that my half was the hardest thing I have ever done. It was also one of the most worthwhile things I've done.

easy

On hike

Recovering.

Recovering.

Recovering.

Recovering.

Six easy. Did a 400 meter pickup with Andrew and Logan. Logan and me got 74.5. Andrew got 77.8. Last of the six was with William.

For scouts:

  10 pushups (hurt finger)

  31 situps

   0 pullups (finger)

   As far as my toes for the flexibility test.

800 in 2:23.5.

600 in 1:46.

Had adrenal fatigue today. Ended up in second.

800 at track in 2:29.7. 

The lactic bear jumped on me with 300 to go. He brought plenty of family members. My opening lap was 65. something. I closed in around 70.6. The first place medal was cooler than most others.

  Warmed up 2 in the early morning. The race was at 11:00 AM. Right before, I did strides with Eric Lambert. We didn't time them, but both of us were feeling sluggish. The temperature was 88 degrees. Much better than the day before, but still plenty hot.

  As I walked to the starting line, I kept thinking: "I really don't want to run a 1500 all out." Usually, this is a precursor of a mental failure during the race. Heat messes with your mind. It distorts both your sense of pace and your sense of pain.

   The first three hundred was in 55. It felt uncomfortable. Eric led. We passed a kid who started out too fast around 250 meters. When I heard the split, I knew I needed to lead if I wanted to get a decent time today. I led for 300, then let Eric lead. We did a 71.8 next lap.

  Somewhere around 600 meters, when I returned the lead to Eric, a mental beast within me awoke. It was the same beast that kept me from breaking six. It almost got me today. I came within a millimeter of dropping out. I had thoughts like "there's no way I can keep up" and "I'm sprinting all out to keep up. My legs have to give out." I wanted Eric to be faster. I wanted him to drop me so I would have an excuse to run slower. I envied everyone who wasn't running. Everyone who sat in the shade, sipping ice-cold water, watching contentedly as I endured what I am convinced is among the most devious forms of torture ever devised. The agony of torture racks is undoubtedly greater. But the pain of running is self-inflicted. It has a mental and emotional side unique to running.

   Somehow I survived until the kick. It was in 70. Eric got me by 0.08. I ended up with 4:31.58. I'm happy with my performance.