The race day jitters started almost immediately after I woke up this morning. I got a decent night's sleep and lollygagged about after getting out of bed. Usually, my morning run is characterized by momentem. The distance between being asleep and running is relativly small. But a race morning like this one involved a giant hours long gap between getting my head off the pillow and the starting line. Enough time to have my mind start playing trick. Although I'd been thinking about this race for sometime, I only signed up a few days ago. I bought the "economy" race entry. I didn't feel wholly invested even though I checked the previous year's stats for my age group and determined there would be a chance of taking the top spot or at least top three.
But I got in the car, hit the road, and showed up with a sufficient amount of time to get a warm up in while trying to minimize the time I needed to hang around in the single digit cold weather.
During my mile warm up, running felt challenging and I noticed my heart rate peaking even while going at what should have been an easy effort. Not a good sign for trying to push the limits during a race. As much as I knew, and have told myself countless time, the first mile is just getting my body prepared, I still felt some very nervous energy. I seriously thought through getting in the car and turning around for home. But I took some deep breaths, bounced around, and pulled myself together. After the prerace announcements, the national anthem, and an invocation which could have been cut in half on account of the cold, the cannon fired and I set my feet in motion.
I started near the front of the pack, thinking there should be about a few dozen runners in front of me, but as things turned out there were far fewer than I expected leading the charge. In the first half mile I felt a touch winded, but only from the briskness of the air. I felt in control and made little effort to advance on the runners infront of me. When I glanced at my watch and saw my pace around 6:40 I knew I'd have to be careful not to accidentally cook myself. I'd let everyone else stay out in front and wait till the halfway mark and see if I could hold this pace.
Throughout the race, like the Volkslaufe this past summer, I'd talk myself through the hills, "ok...here comes another one." As if I were bracing myself for a wave crashing over the sail boat. In many respects, the downhills frightened me more than the uphills. A misplaced step on a bit of ice on flat ground would be tragic enough, but hurdeling downward on a hill would have been far more frightening. As things went, everything turned out alright.
Because this is an out and back course, I counted the runners in front of me. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 I thought to myself a top 10 finish would be great, but also wondered if I timed things right whether I could move up a place or two. I eased past a few of runners and then meet my match. I tucked in behind long-sleeve-runner guy with only the hope of staying with him as a way of pacing myself. I tested him a few times, but bided my time, not wanting to burnout too soon. If we were equally matched, I'd hope to have a kick at the end to take him by a few steps. Then with 1.25 miles I pounded up a hill and created some seperation. Not a big gap, but enough. I heard a spectator give me a cheer and then 4 seconds later cheer for my competitor. I didn't have much left in the tank, but the final .25 mile is a straight shot with a visual on the finish line. I found my next gear and depleted my reserve finishing with a big smile on my face.
It would be a little while later before I actually looked up my time. When I did and saw myself in the 5th position, I felt pretty shocked. I also felt a touch disappointed I wouldn't take first in my age group, but I wasn't even close to the age group winner who also placed second overall and a full 3:17 in front of me. Sometimes placement is all relative to who's running and this happened to be a fast field.
So what started out as a day full of jitters and uncertainty ended with a huge sense of accomplishment. I'll be feeling it tomorrow, but it was totally worth it.
