After a couple weeks reevaluating my training and stuff, I've been feeling good and ready to start racing and going after a good spring season. I needed to do a few things to start it off right:
- A 2-mile time trial to give coach some data for writing training
- A re-rust-buster race to get me back in the game
Last Tuesday in the Cities was not ideal TT conditions. a straight 25 mph wind gusting to 40 was blowing from the southwest. I was frantically trying to figure out how to make this work, until I remembered my beloved Metrodome was still open in the evening until the last week of March. Also, the 640m laps add up evenly to 3200m, or nearly two miles. I jogged over and got warmed up. There were only two or three others running in the dome, since it was beautiful outside, except for the wind. I got out fast and held on to run 8:51, which was faster than I expected, and actually quite a relief, since I'd felt pretty sluggish since my big mileage weeks in early March.
On Thursday I flew back to Raleigh to hang out with Bobby and go down for the Cooper River Bridge Run in Charleston, SC. They do a good job taking care of elites and the course is a serious test, with an enormous bridge right in the middle, usually accompanied by strong winds.
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| Taylor Hicks sang the National Antherm. He forgot some words, but it was still better than The Fray |
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| Waiting at the elite start, complete with the ubiquitous interlopers |
The first mile was an awkward warmup for the whole lead pack. I doubt any of us had raced after standing still for 40 minutes before. We came through in 4:49, which was fine with me. The bridge loomed in the distance, the largest thing visible from any direction. The leaders looked at each other and weaved around on the road sizing each other up, while I sat at the tail of the pack, hiding from the wind, which was much stronger than I anticipated. Halfway through the second mile, we started up the ramp to the bridge and some of the leaders sprung forward. I expected this to be an early break and braced for it, but immediately we hit the brakes, hard. Everyone looked around for reconnaissance, but we continued slowly up the ever increasing gradient. We came through two miles in 9:40 and three in 15:00, now cresting the bridge. I managed to hang on the pack, though the pace quickened slightly. At four miles the Kenyans/Ethiopians/Moroccan-Americans had had enough and decided to throw down. I didn't get the memo and suddenly was twenty yards back of the lead pack of ten runners. Then I felt the wind. It hit me hard in the face and took me off my stride for a few steps. I closed my left eye as it hit me from the bow to port (nautical terms!). My tactical error had been made. The right decision would have been to put all I had into regaining contact, but I floated backward like a Wal-Mart sack in the breeze.
Now completely alone, I was determined to finish respectably and inject a big surge as soon as we got off the bridge and out of the wind. Coming down into Charleston I surged hard, but was only able to get to five miles in 24:44. I feared what might be coming behind me as the will to compete drained away. Large women cheered from the sidewalk in a motherly "Oh my gosh he looks so weak and sad" kind of way. I could almost sense their urge to sit me down at a table and fill me with soul food. I could still see the leaders about a block ahead, but knew there was no chance to catch them at this point. I put in another dig in the last few blocks and came through in 30:37.
As I walked through the finish chute, I saw Bobby talking to a TV reporter. I knew he had been with the leaders at least until the last couple of blocks, and I know how fast he can finish. I asked two volunteers in the chute if he won, and they told me he did. I was pumped! A friend winning over a bunch of Africans in a big race would have totally made up for my poor showing. Like an idiot I started jumping around and waving to him behind the camera. A few minutes later, I discovered he had not won, though he finished well, and the trombone goes "wump...wuuuuh" again. To make things even better, when we went to the awards presentation, it was confirmed that I had gotten 11th overall (prize money to top 10) and 4th American (prize money to top 3) But the race covered travel and everything, so at least I didn't lose anything on the deal.
So,
Reflections----
I know exactly what I did wrong, so hopefully, faced with similar circumstances in the future, I will make the right moves. As far as the time I ran, it's not worth too much exploration. The course isn't super fast, and it was a slow year, as last year's race went about a minute faster. I'd guess I'm in shape to run about 29:20 right now under good conditions and with a warm-up.
I don't really fault the race for the start mix-up (except for the terrible music) they were cramming 43,000 people into a town that isn't much bigger than that, and s*** happens. A lot of people were unduly bitter about it. I don't understand why hobbyjoggers complain so much after races. Every race website is full of comments from people complaining about the smallest details as if they are some horrible offense. Take it down a notch, it's distance running. I mean, it seems like half of the people who run road races nowadays wear something akin to a halloween costume while participating, so how serious do you really take it?
Back down from the soapbox --
My transition to be coached by a smart person is going well, and my next action will be in the 10k at the Mt. Sac Relays on April 19, in which I can hopefully drop a fast time and make it worth the trip to LA.
