Race Day Weather – 40 degrees, cloudy, windy. I
woke to gray skies, but mild January weather. I ate a banana, oatmeal, kiwi,
and drank 2 glasses of water 3 hours before race time, then drove to Kickapoo
State Park near Danville and arrived about 75 minutes before race time. After
registering I started my warm-up at 10:00am. I ran to the Mountain Goat Hill
course and traversed 2 of the larger hills. I felt comfortable and strong, and
was confident that I could put in a good race effort. I was surprised that nobody
else was using the Goat hills as a warm-up, but I always seem to seek out the
places which afford the most solitude, so I was happy to run alone, focusing my
thoughts on the upcoming battle of wills. Although it was 40 degrees, the stiff
wind made it seem colder, it felt about 30, so I needed to wear gloves, and was
uncertain if I should wear a hat for the race. I did not wear a hat during the
warm-up, and I felt ok without it. After 30 minutes of easy running I did
4x150m strides, then stretched in a dry picnic shelter with 10-12 other
runners. When I returned to my car it was 15 minutes to race time. I was jumpy
and energetic, which was a good sign. At the last minute I decided to wear a
hat, and I emerged from the car wearing shorts, 3 light shirts, hat and gloves.
I made my way to the start line, listening to the muffled voices of the 476 assembled runners. I stayed at the
edge of the large group, focusing my eyes not on the faces or landscape, but
upon my emotional reaction to the minutes leading up to the start. I saw the
group moving towards the start line, and as I began to follow, a young runner
kicked mud at his friend, missed, and it splattered on my shorts and legs. I
looked at him, and then said, “well, by races end it is going to be a lot worse
than this.” Relieved, he laughed and resumed his mud play. I inserted myself
into the middle of the throng, for the first time feeling warm because the wind
could not reach me. People talked, stretched, and I jumped up and down
continuously, feeling a solid mass of energy which needed to be spent. The
starter finally sent us on our way, and we circled a large field which would
also be the finish, and made our way into the woods. Upon reaching the single
track path, mud began flying in the air. My shoes sunk into it and sprayed the
runners behind me. At a narrow, steep descent a line of runners came to a
complete stop, and each runner in turn had to stop, then resume running. I
found myself muttering “come on” as I waited to resume.
My pace during this initial mud slog was quite slow, I was in no particular
hurry, because I knew 56 more minutes of running awaited me, and I would have
plenty of time to put in surges and go as fast as my legs would carry me. I had
set my iPod to count down from 60 minutes, so my goal was to come in at 59:xx,
which was around 8:00/mile pace. I had run this same course 2 years ago in an
autumn race and averaged 7:30/mile, but with the mud and the cold and the wind
I believed 8:00 was about all I could hope for. The first half mile a few
people passed, which did not bother me. I was feeling relaxed and strong, and
knew when I finally decided to make my first move that I would begin to pass
numerous people. When we finally emerged from the first set of woods onto a
400-600m straightaway, I made my first surge and passed quite a few runners.
The mud however, never let up, it was going to be a constant throughout the
entire race. Entering a second woods the single track began again, and I did my
best to maintain the surge pace. A lot of curves had to be carefully navigated
because of the slippery conditions, and it reminded me of running in the snow,
it seemed about as difficult, but more pleasant because of the warmth. We
exited the second woods and came out into a large meadow, which is about 800m
in length. This was the only part of the course which was not very muddy, but
there were numerous ice puddles and potholes to contend with, so it was not
that much easier to get a firm footing. I continued passing people, my pace was
continually getting faster, and nobody had yet to pass me since the ½ mile
mark. After the field we entered the third woods. For about 1-2 miles it was
more slogging and trying to find a good pace - I would surge, then upon
reaching a runner who was holding a comparable pace, I would tuck in behind and
slow down to his/her pace, which allowed me to recover, and when I felt strong
again I would push myself past and look for the next runner to surge to.
Sometimes I would surge by as many 5 or 6 runners within a 100m distance. The
woods began to get quite hilly, and it was here that a good sense of balance
and strength had to be maintained so as to avoid falling and injury. Some of
the smaller hills were ridiculous because of the mud and uneven, sloping narrow
paths. One particular hill which sticks in my memory consisted of an almost
vertical 6 foot descent, followed immediately by a 6 foot vertical ascent. One
comes upon this situation with only 1-2 seconds to decide how to navigate it. I
slid down trying not to fall, but having to immediately begin the uphill upon
reaching the bottom, I reached out with both of my hands and dug into the
mud, but I stretched the top of my body too far forward and my lower back
suffered a slight spasm. I have had these spasms before, and sometimes it can
take weeks to recover from them. As I came out of this dwarfish mud canyon my
back felt stiff and within a few seconds I would know if I had to crawl, walk,
or run to the finish. Fortunately the stiffness seemed to ease as I continued to
run, and so I pushed ahead, not seeming to lose any of my speed or momentum.
More of these types of hills continued to appear, and they forced my mind to
concentrate on things other than my back. One of the hills was longish and
steep, and with absolutely no traction. I had to lean forward and pull myself
up the hill, digging my hands into the mud, similar to climbing a ladder. I saw
2 runners decide to try a different route, hoping for an easier go of it.
However, one of the runners let out a loud scream, and then “!@#$#@!” I watched
him crumple to the ground in obvious pain. Fortunately a race volunteer was
nearby and rushed to give aid to the fallen athlete. I soon forgot about my
spasm and just kept running hard. I was about 4 miles in and still feeling
strong and energetic. My lungs felt at full capacity, and were in control, so I
knew that I would most likely be able to maintain this kind of surge/relax
style of running for the remaining 3.5 miles. At about this time I saw Matt,
who leads the Wednesday speed sessions in the summer. I was surprised to see
him walking, and said hi to him as I passed, wondering if he was injured or
just taking a short walking break. In most races he finishes ahead of me, so I
took that for what it was worth, and kept running hard. When I reached the only
asphalt area of the race, about mile 5, I remembered what Melinda had told me
while we ran at Clinton Lake last week– “when you reach the parking lot you
have 2 miles to go, but it seems a lot longer than 2 miles.” I heeded her
advice, and told myself it was probably going to feel like 3 miles. It felt
nice to have a firm surface to run on and my pace immediately picked up, and
images of running 200m repeats floated through my mind. I passed 4 or 5 runners
during this 400m stretch of parking lot, they seemed to be laboring, not being
able to take advantage of the only firm surface on the course. Seeing runners
lagging, out of breath, slowing down, made me want to go faster, so I continued
surging. Off the parking lot and back into the woods, I soon approached a
runner who looked familiar. His bare calves were encrusted in thick brownish
mud. I could not see his face, but I thought it might be Andrew, another
Wednesday speed session runner who runs 18:xx 5k’s. I have never beaten him in
any race, so I was thinking maybe it was not him. I slowed down a bit and
decided to follow him for a while. He was moving smoothly, but I could sense a
bit of struggle in his pace. After 200m I felt recovered and decided I needed
to surge again. As I passed I saw that it was Andrew and I said hi. I don’t
think he knew who I was, but he returned the greeting. Passing him gave me more
confidence, and I began a long final surge which I was able to maintain until
the end of the race. I passed numerous runners during the final mile and a
half, yet nobody had yet to pass me. With a mile to go the best thought of the
race occurred to me – “all the runners near me at this point in the race have a
similar running level to myself, therefore, the only runners who are going to
pass me in this final mile are the ones who have worked harder than me – the person
who has run for 50 consecutive days; in ice and snow storms; in below zero
winds; run hill repeats on ice; practiced surge pace in 4 inches of snow;
worked on their speed with 200m repeats. If they have done this and more, well,
then they can pass me, but they are going to have to prove it!” I started to
run loose and wild, with passion, following a strong runner ahead of me, slowly
gaining on him. During the final steep hill ascent which the runner ahead of me
walked, I was directly behind him, trudging up the hill. I said to him as we
crested the hill “this is it, we made it, this is the home stretch.” He nodded
in agreement, and I followed him for about 150M, then passed him with 800
meters to go, running as hard as I could. I was gaining on 2 runners ahead of
me, but with about 100m to go they took off in a wild sprint, battling each
other, arms flailing, it was fun to watch, and I followed them into the finish
shoot about 5 seconds behind. The runner I had passed finished 20 seconds
behind me, which made me feel good about my final effort and kick.
Unbelievably, I finished in 59:35, which is an exact 8:00/mile pace. In the
race results it reads 7:60.0, which made me look twice, and then laugh – I had
hit my race pace goal spot on. After the race I recovered quickly and ran a 1
mile cool down. I then stretched and realized my back had tightened since the
race had ended. It does not seem too serious, so hopefully it will only take
7-10 days to fully recover. I will be careful with it, doing special stretches
for it. Running seems to help it, so I probably will not have to alter my
training in any way. My overall place was 62, and in my age group 6 out of 50.
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