St Patty's Day 10K<br>
The Dalles, Oregon<br>
Finish Time: 37:58 PR!!<br>
3rd Place Overall (a small field) <img alt="cool.gif" src="http://files.kickrunners.com/smilies/cool.gif"><br><br>
It was a cool and damp morning as three of my running clubmates and I hopped into the car for the 90 mile drive to the race start. The drive was mostly uneventful except for the big rig that nearly knocked us off the road. Undaunted, we arrived to find partly sunny skies and, amazingly, no wind. Here we were 20 miles from the wind surfing capital of the US and there was nary a breeze. A great day for a run.<br><br>
An hour later, as the gun was about to sound, the wind started to pick up. Drat! It had also warmed considerably (to about the mid 40s). As usual, I went out too fast. The first part of the course featured a slight downhill and I went out on the heels of "The Dude". The Dude is our club's fastest Masters runner at the 5K and 10K distances. He consistently places at the top in almost every race he enters, and he races 60+ times a year. I have no business being anywhere near him after the first 100 yards. I stayed with him for about 400 yards. I kept trying to back off my pace, but between the downhill and a desire to not back off too quickly I was already burning. By the 1 mile point, I had settled into 5th place with the first two leaders hopelessly in front. The third place runner turned around at the 3K turnaround. Cool! I'm in 4th place now.<br><br>
Soon, I caught up with the third place runner. About that time a friend of his rode up on her bike and started chatting with him. After about 45 seconds, she realized that she should probably let him race (ya think?) and promised to catch up to him at the finish. I tried not to laugh. After she left, I figured he's capable of talking at this pace and I need to take my mind off of my burning legs so I started asking him about what Tri's he was racing (He was running in the new Zoot shoes, so I knew he had to be a triathlete). Turns out the guy has completed Kona twice and was looking to qualify again this year.<br><br>
About this time the headwinds started, so in true triathlete fashion, he tucked in behind me. I tried a little gamesmanship by slowing on the uphills to see if he would pass me, but no dice. I was going to have to pull this guy. Our conversation continued in short bursts until about mile 5. Each of us kept the other from missing turns on the course, since there were no volunteers to direct us. As we approached 5.5 miles, I began to doubt whether I had the legs left to put down a finishing kick. I decided that if he went first, I'd never catch him, so I had to lead out. I was NOT going to let this guy beat me after pulling his ass through the headwind and having him steal my tailwind. When I saw the 6 mile cone, I put down a small surge to see if he would follow. I no longer heard him breathing right behind me, so I decided to just go as hard as I could to the finish to keep him away. In my oxygen deleted state, I forgot about the differences between the metric system and the Imperial system. This was a 10K, so I have .2 to go. 200 meters left. Um, no, more like 320 meters. Ouch.<br><br>
I would have loved to see my finish on tape. My form had to be sh--, but I held on for third place by 9 seconds and managed not to puke. When I looked at my watch, I was shocked at my time. I had negative split the race by a full minute. This finish was a 17 second PR for me, but that race had been on a downhill course that's good for a free minute at least. When I got home, I saw that my 10K time has improved by two full minutes in 12 months. I guess this training stuff works. I'm psyched for Boston. I just need to stay healthy until then.
The Dalles, Oregon<br>
Finish Time: 37:58 PR!!<br>
3rd Place Overall (a small field) <img alt="cool.gif" src="http://files.kickrunners.com/smilies/cool.gif"><br><br>
It was a cool and damp morning as three of my running clubmates and I hopped into the car for the 90 mile drive to the race start. The drive was mostly uneventful except for the big rig that nearly knocked us off the road. Undaunted, we arrived to find partly sunny skies and, amazingly, no wind. Here we were 20 miles from the wind surfing capital of the US and there was nary a breeze. A great day for a run.<br><br>
An hour later, as the gun was about to sound, the wind started to pick up. Drat! It had also warmed considerably (to about the mid 40s). As usual, I went out too fast. The first part of the course featured a slight downhill and I went out on the heels of "The Dude". The Dude is our club's fastest Masters runner at the 5K and 10K distances. He consistently places at the top in almost every race he enters, and he races 60+ times a year. I have no business being anywhere near him after the first 100 yards. I stayed with him for about 400 yards. I kept trying to back off my pace, but between the downhill and a desire to not back off too quickly I was already burning. By the 1 mile point, I had settled into 5th place with the first two leaders hopelessly in front. The third place runner turned around at the 3K turnaround. Cool! I'm in 4th place now.<br><br>
Soon, I caught up with the third place runner. About that time a friend of his rode up on her bike and started chatting with him. After about 45 seconds, she realized that she should probably let him race (ya think?) and promised to catch up to him at the finish. I tried not to laugh. After she left, I figured he's capable of talking at this pace and I need to take my mind off of my burning legs so I started asking him about what Tri's he was racing (He was running in the new Zoot shoes, so I knew he had to be a triathlete). Turns out the guy has completed Kona twice and was looking to qualify again this year.<br><br>
About this time the headwinds started, so in true triathlete fashion, he tucked in behind me. I tried a little gamesmanship by slowing on the uphills to see if he would pass me, but no dice. I was going to have to pull this guy. Our conversation continued in short bursts until about mile 5. Each of us kept the other from missing turns on the course, since there were no volunteers to direct us. As we approached 5.5 miles, I began to doubt whether I had the legs left to put down a finishing kick. I decided that if he went first, I'd never catch him, so I had to lead out. I was NOT going to let this guy beat me after pulling his ass through the headwind and having him steal my tailwind. When I saw the 6 mile cone, I put down a small surge to see if he would follow. I no longer heard him breathing right behind me, so I decided to just go as hard as I could to the finish to keep him away. In my oxygen deleted state, I forgot about the differences between the metric system and the Imperial system. This was a 10K, so I have .2 to go. 200 meters left. Um, no, more like 320 meters. Ouch.<br><br>
I would have loved to see my finish on tape. My form had to be sh--, but I held on for third place by 9 seconds and managed not to puke. When I looked at my watch, I was shocked at my time. I had negative split the race by a full minute. This finish was a 17 second PR for me, but that race had been on a downhill course that's good for a free minute at least. When I got home, I saw that my 10K time has improved by two full minutes in 12 months. I guess this training stuff works. I'm psyched for Boston. I just need to stay healthy until then.
