Weather - 19 degrees, cloudy, windy. I woke this morning
feeling well rested and excited about the race. When I began my drive to
Bloomington it was 29 degrees, which seemed pleasant enough. I noticed that
every 5 miles traveled on the highway the temperature dropped 1 degree, so that
when I arrived at the race site it was 19 degrees. After registering I ran 2
easy miles on the plowed asphalt roads that circled the park. My legs felt
refreshed and strong, and my lungs were close to full breathing capacity. As I
stretched I gazed out at the course, it was covered in 1-2 inches of snow/ice,
and I did not want to think about what that would mean. Standing at the start
line with 115 runners I placed myself at the middle of the group. When the
starter blew his whistle I tried to get into a comfortable pace, and tucked in
behind a group of runners after passing 9-10 people in the first 400 meters.
The first mile was uneventful, although some of it was into the wind, and since
I was not thoroughly warm yet my face stung from the cold. We had to cross 4
knee high hurdles during the first mile. I noticed some of the runners were
able to cross these without breaking stride, one foot landing atop the bar and
then pushing forward. I did not trust my balance, and so I slowed down for each
and used two hands to push myself over. I did not make any moves or surges
during this part of the race and I think I was passed by 1 runner. The course
consisted of a number of small ascents and descents, and many sharp turns,
which required the use of caution to avoid slipping. When I crossed the 1 mile
marker an 8:30 split was called out. I realized my pace was too comfortable,
and I started to push harder. I passed 5 or 6 people within the next 400
meters, but I soon realized the difficulty of moving at a quicker pace. It
seemed impossible to get firm footing, with each step I did not know if either
of my feet were going to curl inwards, splay outwards, or land flat. After
securing itself on the ground, the foot would then push off on a base layer of
ice. This caused me to expend more energy than normal, and I could feel myself
begin to tire. When I reached the 2 mile marker a 15:02 split was called, and I
knew something was wrong, as I could not have run a 6:30 mile, so I guessed that
the first mile was marked long. At about 2 3/4 mile I felt a burst of energy
and made a fast surge, passing 3-4 people in quick succession. I then could
see nobody ahead of me, and I realized I was going to have to lead a pack of
runners for the final two miles, which did not seem appealing. I usually surge
strong until reaching the next group, but because I could not find one I had to
decide when to slow down. That decision was made easy for me when I passed the
3 mile marker. I was cutting a sharp left turn on a descent and when my left
foot pushed off the ice it lost its balance and I fell on my left knee, both
hands on the ground, my right leg flat on the snow. I was momentarily stunned,
because I had never before fallen while running. After being down for 2-3
seconds, I got up as quickly as I could, and tried to regain the previous pace,
which I could not do. An image of Lasse Viren falling in the 10000 meter '72
Olympics flashed into my brain landscape. I slowed down a bit, and I waited for
the runners behind me to catch up. I thought this might be a good thing,
because running alone on the windswept course was probably not the best
strategy. One runner was gaining on me, and I could feel myself getting tense,
wondering how I was going to fare during the final mile and a half. The best
thought of the race occurred at this point. I told myself to relax, to feel
this as it was - a run through the winter woods. I became more aware of the
outer surroundings, leaving my inner anguish to itself. My stride grew longer,
easier, and my breath grew deeper. I may have even smiled a bit. When I reached
the 4 mile mark no runners had yet caught me, I was still alone, and I was
gaining on someone up ahead. About 1000 meters to go I was passed by a runner
who was hitting it hard, and I wished I could have challenged him, but I knew I
did not have a 1000meter surge left in the tank. I put my head down and tried
to gut it out. With 400 meters to go I caught the runner I was chasing and he
moved aside to let me pass. However, just at this moment I died, and could not
pass. He turned and looked at me, saw that I was struggling, and he picked up his
pace. We ran stride for stride, crossing 3 more hurdles together. I noticed
someone was gaining on the two of us, and if I did not do something soon, I
knew I would be passed yet again. With 100 meters to go I saw the finish chute
and I instinctively kicked hard. I felt elated to have found an extra gear or
two, and I left the runner beside me and crossed in 39 minutes even, 4 seconds
ahead of him. I realize that a 7:52 pace is quite slow, but I need to remember
that I am currently not in race shape, and with the course conditions being
what they were, I am pleased with my effort. After the race I ran a 1 mile cool
down, ate a banana and a Cliff bar, and drank some water. When I returned the
rental car in Urbana it was 31 degrees and raining. Being 3 miles from home, I
decided to run 2 miles to Carle Park instead of walking in the rain, so I was
able to accumulate some additional mileage. When I reached the park I did 3
sets of strength exercises, stretched again, and walked 20 minutes home. I wish
all days could be like this one.
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