It’s going to hurt

10 June 2007

“It’s going to hurt,” groaned Joe at SB Running when we discussed the race. “Five minutes of pain.” said Rusty, “No, make that four, the first one won’t be bad.” “It’ll hurt, you know.” said John Brennand as I picked up my race bib.

I know.

That’s one reason I haven’t raced a mile in 30 years. My best mile was a 5:07 when I ran track as a high school junior. Those races hurt.

But I wanted to see what I could do. And a downhill course sounded as though it would be less unpleasant (honestly, I now don’t know why it sounded that way, but it did at the time). I haven’t been training for a mile, of course, no real speed work, but I’ve got a good marathon base, and I expected to do, if not well, then respectably.

Last time I tried running a mile it was ~5:30. That was by myself on a bare track. I expected in a flat race I should break 5:20. On a downhill race, I wasn’t sure. I hoped I’d break my 5:07, maybe, maybe if I were lucky I’d break 5.

Rusty said he thought I’d break 5. Maybe even 4:55. Oh dear…

I was very nervous and didn’t sleep well the night before. Nervous as I waited for my heat to be called. Nervous as we lined up and waited for the start. Heart rate already high.

half-dead at ¾ mile Copyright © 2007 Dennis Mihora

Then the gun went off, and we did too. About 5 people zoomed off ahead of me. I’m not a miler, I don’t expect to place in this race. That’s ok. The first quarter was pretty good, running smoothly, and it’s neat to reach the first quarter this quickly. I could barely hear the guy calling out times at the quarter. 1:09, I think. Rather too fast that, better slow a bit. Then the half mile comes, not exactly painful yet, but the world is becoming unimportant, nothing matters but running. I can’t hear the guy calling the time. I fail to push the right button on my watch. And then that’s past.

My arms are getting tired.

My arms? what are they doing? I’m running on my legs, how can my arms be tired?

And now it feels harder and harder to continue. Not painful, just impossible. The third quarter approaches and it feels easier again, and then it passes (I forgot even to try to click my watch. What did time did the guy shout?) and it’s hard again. Then someone passes me and I find I can run a little harder but he still zooms off as if I were standing still. And the finish line is moving closer and closer. And…

Here. 5:02~5:03.

Wow, a (small) PR. And it wasn’t that bad.

And it is over so quickly!

But now the pain strikes. I can’t get enough to breathe. I can barely hold the plastic bag they have given me. I find a pole and lean on it. And then my throat starts to hurt. I stumble around for a bit with my friend Carrie (who has just won the women’s 40+ race at 5:45). She asks (jokingly, I hope) if she should call an ambulance. Now my lungs hurt. We sit down and eat some yoghurt. Now I’m coughing, but I’m starting to feel a bit better. And by the time the 50+s are coming in, I can actually stand up and watch.

Ug. I don’t like miles.

It did hurt.

But now I get to watch my friends, and that’s fun. Steve Miley (who has been injured with planar fasciaitis for months) ran the dog mile in about a 5:37. Nirmal ran about a minute faster than his mile pace at Vicki’s. Then Laura wins the elite women’s race, giving it her all. Joe came second in the elite masters (Joe is a master now!). And Magnificent Melissa comes in with a 4:47.

I remember now why I haven’t raced a mile in 30 years. I don’t think I need to race another.

Hmmm, warmups matter

2 June 2007

Everyone was running Vicki’s today, so I was on my own for a workout. Rusty told me to warm up, run a 6:10 mile, and then do 4 downhill quarters (the final ¼ mile of Nite Moves, down the hill from Shoreline) in 68-72 seconds. And he told me not to go all out.

I didn’t think I could run that fast. I was scared. A year or two ago I did a 75 second quarter on a treadmill and felt like I was going to fall off. Go faster than that? It seemed impossible, even downhill.

I warmed up. I went to the City College track to run my mile. I helped John get ready for Vicki’s (anything to procrastinate this workout). Did my strides. Ran my mile. I was nervous. 5:46. As though by running too fast now I wouldn’t have to run so fast later.

I jogged up to Shoreline. I did more strides.

Then I stood at the top of the hill and looked down.

I just stood there.

I couldn’t seem to start.

“What,” I asked myself, “is the worst that could happen? I’ll just run more slowly than 72 seconds. So what?” “No, the worst that could happen is that I’d try really hard and fail. And disappoint Rusty. And trying to run that fast would hurt.”

I stood there some more.

Finally I started. I couldn’t seem to run fast. My legs just wouldn’t turn over. I felt really slow. My feet were slapping the pavement in a very inefficient way. And then the slope ended. I felt I was running better now, but it was hard. The level bit seemed to stretch on for ever. Finally the finish line. 73 seconds.

I did fail.

It wasn’t as bad as I had expected, I was close at least. Still I had gone as fast as I could and it wasn’t fast enough.

The worst had happened. I trotted back to the top of the hill and headed right down. It felt a little easier this time, I guessed I wasn’t running as hard. And then I finished: 66 seconds.

Oh.

Wow.

I guess I just needed to warm up. The next two were 69 and 71. Smack where Rusty said I would be.

If running a 5:46 mile and doing a bunch of strides doesn’t warm me up, what do I need to do right before State Street?

Then I went and watched Vicki’s. That was fun. Mellisa broke the course record.