Well I haven't been looking forward to writing this report. Bottom line is I messed this race up 3 weeks ago on a 25 mile training run with 10 miles at sub 5 min pace. I haven't felt the same since. Haven't ran close to that since and just wasn't recovered. Dumb to have done that... sucks to live out the consequences. But thats really what happened. FACT. So with that and the sickness I've had the last few days. I just knew today wasn't going to be good. I tried to be positive and do the best I could. But I knew it wasn't going to be the day...
All that said I ran my best effort for the day.
Hung out at the start for about 45 min's. We just sat there at the gun range listenting to the most annyoing announcer ever. The guy was off the hook crazy. Then I put my hand in a prickly pear while hitting up a potty stop. And a few min's befor the gun went off it started to rain. Like a downpour at the time. Awesome. And the rain ended up being great. It was just the wind that really sucked the life out of me.
Decided to go out strong but not out of control. Stayed right with the Ogden boys for the first 5 miles then fell off them about 10 seconds climbing the hills. Then they started to hammer the downhill at around mile 7 and I was now running in 4th and would basically stay right there the rest of the race. Or 5th depending on what really happened.
Mile splits. 5:33, 5:19, 5:28, 5:18, 5:39, 5:49, 5:22, 5:27,5:28, 5:30, 5:33, 5:36, 5:45, 5:41, 5:35, 5:38, 5:51, 5:59, 5:57, 5:55, 5:45, 5:51, 5:58, 5:57, 5:53, 5:51 .2 @ 5:47
Hit the half in around 1:12:20
Had the course at 26.33
So I didn't ever ever ever feel good today. The first 10 or so felt ok. Like "I'm in a race the effort is harder but ok". But never felt like "Bang- Legs go baby". Then after mile 11 or so I really started to just "grind". Like I knew I'd possibly hit a wall or struggle... typical marathon stuff. But that happens at like mile 20 or 23. Not 11 or 12. From then on I just could not race. Miles 11-20 were so pathetically crappy I just about walked off the course. At 17 I was so frustrated that I decided to stop. But I could see the course turning up a head and decided to push on to the next corner and see if changing directions might help. It kind of did but not much. The wind was an issue as well. Just slowed the pace and bugged the brain. After around mile 18 I just decided to not DNF even though I knew it wasn't going to be the race I'd trained for. So I said to myself. Just hit 6 min pace from here on in and at least you'll break 2:30. So that's basically what I did. Semi happy about that. My only real goal was to break 2:30 although my mileage, workouts and even the half marathon in January would all suggest I have a better race in me. But.... Oh well. In the end I'm glad I didn't drop out. Even though I was so close. Like one step away from stopping. My splits are just all over the place. I never really did hit the wall or die. I just couldn't race anymore. And it turned into a long painful workout/ long run. I really love to train. I love hitting it everyday and pushing myself to the brink. I love seeing progress and feeling super fit. But I hate racing. I hate expectations that I put on myself and the disappointment of not reaching them. I've been in good shape before. I feel like through this winter I've been in great shape. I feel like I have a super race in me.... it's just so hard for me to boil that sucker out. I'm getting sick of trying. But I cant stop because I know it's in there... so the beat goes on I guess.
Thanks to my good friends for the trip down. I've logged thousands of miles with Dave and Logan. We are all getting old. Racing is hard on old men. But we keep smiling.
| 