We found a good parking space in the downtown, not far from the race's start and finish lines and made our way toward the boardwalk to queue up at the start line. The race got underway, the sun rose, and it did wonders to warm me up.
I started near the front of the pack and went off strong with the fast runners through the downtown and into the residential area. Within the first three miles, I found a comfortable pace and a solid spot in the ranking as the fast folks darted out ahead and the pack thinned out a bit.
In the third mile, we headed toward the beach before a turnaround sent us back onto the main road. This turnaround would end up being significant.
To my pleasant surprise, around five miles in, the course headed into a park and onto a trail. I had neither watch nor Ipod, and there were no mile clocks. All I had was instinct and my training. I was shooting for a 6:36 pace and I could feel - I don't know how - that I was right on target, maybe even beating it. This is where the interval and pace training comes in handy - the body and brain remember what the pace feels like.
Before we got on the trail, a guy passed me. He looked like he was close to my age, so all I could think of was whether he would beat me out of an age group award. Rather than be competitive about it (yet), I offered words of encouragement.
The trail was awesome. The surface was a nice change from the pavement - soft enough to notice a difference, firm enough not to slow me down. It offered a woodsy visual that I didn't often have with races. The course went off the trail and onto a road where we half-marathoners turned around while the marathoners kept going.
Approaching this turnaround, I was able to count the runners coming back at me and know exactly where I was placed. Somehow, I managed to get myself into the Top Ten. I pushed on. On the way back through the trail I saw Kevin and gave him a shout and wave. Because the way back was more direct than the way in, the 10 mile marker came as we got close to the end (beginning) of the trail. I knew I had been running strong, certainly within PR pace and it was starting to wear on me. I knew I could coast in from there, but with three miles to go, the desire to push through the fatigue took over and I gained that focus and drive that only (but not always) comes at this point in a race.
I gunned it, picking up speed and passing the guy that overtook me earlier as we got back on the road, never looking back. With each mile marker, I pushed harder and actually felt like I was running faster, not merely maintaining. Finally, we were on Rehoboth Avenue and I knew the finish line was around one of the coming corners. Determined not to make the mistake of starting my sprint too late because the finish line was not in view, I sprinted the entire last mile.
I could hear that guy coming up behind me again. He must have been working hard to pass me again because a woman on the sidelines shouted to him, "You can get him!"
What? No. Freaking. Way.
That person's sideline cheer for the guy behind me became cry of war for me. How dare she root for that guy when I'm pouring every last bit of my soul into finishing fast. So I pushed even harder. It hurt, but it was worth it.
I rounded the corner to where the finish line was and could not believe my eyes when I saw the clock. I knew I had beat my best time; I felt it. But FOUR WHOLE MINUTES??? I crossed the line at 1:22:26 and was so overcome with surprise, joy and pain, that I screamed "PR!!!!," dropped to my knees and kissed the ground.
Finally, my 2008 PR from Harrisburg was beaten. Demolished, even. I went into the tent, grabbed some water and headed back out to give encouragement to the runners still coming in, waiting for Kevin so I could take his picture and cheer him to the finish.
Once Kevin came in, we headed into the tent to revel in the spoils of a job well done. The food spread was amazing - pancakes, eggs, bacon (I may be a vegetarian but I looooove the smell of bacon), bagels, etc. Lots of carbs and protein to go around.
As we filled our faces with copious amounts of food, we started hearing rumblings throughout the tent from people who had GPS watches. They were saying course was short. Many admitted that the GPS units were not always exactly accurate to the decimal, but never this far off. Some readings were 13.0, some 12.6, but none reached 13.1. And they all said the discrepancy was in the third mile.
It was that turnaround by the beach. Kevin and I went back to the spot with the car and deduced that the turnaround point came three tenths of a mile too soon. So much for the four minute PR breaker. Still, I did some math and determined that had I gone the extra .3 miles at the same pace, my time would have been 1:24:30. That still breaks my PR by two minutes. Still satisfying!
I had come in eighth place overall and ended up winning a beautiful trophy for placing third in my age group. And that guy that was chasing me down in the end? Not even in my age group after all.
It was an incredible weekend, a great race, and a momentous personal record breaker. Let's just hope that next year they put the turnaround in the right spot.
No comments:
Post a Comment