I always arrive early to races. I would rather get a good parking spot and close my eyes in the car than sleep an extra 30-60 minutes in bed. I despise race day traffic. This tradition continued and as the sun rose and completed my visualizations and watched other runners park and walk to the start. I used the distance of just over a half mile to do some warm ups to get my legs ready for work right off the gun. No getting into the groove on the course. At only 4.2 miles I had to fly from the start and not let up if I was to make my perfect race goal of sub-30 minutes.
To hit my goal I needed to be in the 7 minute pace group. I wasn't sure if could maintain that pace for the whole race but it was a great place to start. I walked straight to my starting coral and avoided eye contact with people. I wanted to stay focused on my race. My only distraction was that I was surrounded by people half my age. An ASU co-ed stood by wearing an outfit more fitting a jog into a yoga studio than holding a 7 minute mile pace. Another wore a bulky backpack. My confidence was shaking that I was in the right spot.
My HRM was showing my at over 110 bpm, just standing there waiting. The race was delayed for 20 minutes so more people could get to the course which meant more 20-somethings in my coral. So I closed myself off and meditated for several minutes, controlling my breathing. I looked down at my watch and my heart rate was back under 80. The waiting actually calmed me.
As soon as we our wave was released, it leaped from the enclosed pen and onto the road. After a few minutes of jostling around in the crowd I was able to look at the pace on my Polar 400 and it was 6:30 per mile. I felt good, relaxed in my breathing, but it was very soon the race and I was afraid I had set to harsh a pace. I found someone in front of me hitting 7 flat like a metronome and stayed there. The first rise in the flat terrain came crossing the Mill Avenue bridge and my pacer slide back. I maintained the pace and started reeling some runners in. I love running over this bridge and have done so for years.
It was at this point that realized a major step forward in my endurance pursuits. The crowd had thinned a bit. People were no longer leaping left and right or surging between runners to find their spot on the road. Everyone sort of had their perfect line and pace and it was just the rhythmic sound of hundreds of shoes pounding the pavement. I never thought I would hear that noise again. Be able to contribute to that cacophony of meditative bliss. For runners it a beautiful pitch and I revealed in it for the moment it lasted.
Curry. It's not just a spice it the name of the road that presents the only real vertical challenge around Tempe Town Lake and another stretch of road I have been up and down hundreds of times if not more. I found that my pace dropped here to a low 8 and some very lean rabbits were jumping past me. I pumped my arms, tucked my chin and vowed to reel in at one person with a consistent pace. I knew with my eyes closed where the real top of this incline was and I used that to my advantage going up and heading down the back.
At the bottom of Curry I passed the 2 mile marker and my pace dropped dramatically. I pulled mid-6 for most of mile, not an easy feat for me but thankful for the extra time bank. I was starting to feel the effect in my lungs, my legs were still strong and I had no aches. However at this point I noticed my mouth was dry and I began spitting what I could not swallow.
The forth mile is flat and then the last .2 miles is a fast incline into Sun Devil stadium. With a mile to go I was being passed by runners I had not seen so they must have come from the back. They had made a fatal mistake in their surge. The stadium is massive and appears much closer than it is so they started sprinting early hoping to make up time. These people needed to wait at least another half mile before putting in the surge they were showing now. Here my experience prevailed over my ego and without a change in my race strategy I pulled ahead of all of them. How strange that I was using my mind for positive positioning instead of killing myself to compete with others.
It is estimated that between 25,000 and 30,000 people ran this race. As I stated earlier, I was in a coral right up front and had no idea how many people were behind me. So it was a mild shock to turn the final corner and see thousands of people still in their corals waiting to start a race I am moments away from finishing. It started my sprint at this point and of course the extra effort produced a gag reflux. Being used to this I held my pace but I just kept thinking, "Don't puke here, not here." And I didn't.
The final climb into the stadium produced a bottle neck and runners started to slow to navigate some turns. Once out onto the football field and the finish line I was able to see the race clock read 30:21. I pushed hard and thought to myself as I crossed line at 30:57, "Well I can say I finished in thirty minutes. Good time."
I slowed to a walk and unconsciously pressed the stop button on my watch. What is this! Of course. The finish line clock starts when the first coral leaves. I was in the third coral. Each coral was sent off at :30 second intervals. I actually ran the course in UNDER 30 MINUTES. In fact the official results show 29:52. My God. Amazing. I ran my perfect race time.
I doubted myself for weeks. I didn't know if I could hold that pace. I didn't know if I was worthy of the positioning. But I kept visualizing it. I kept making the time my reality. No matter how much I doubted my ability I trusted what I was doing was working and I would see results. I feared the clock until the gun went off and then I didn't even look at my time until the finish line. I didn't even look at my heart rate, just pace. I ran hard but not over my ability. This day was a realization that I can still race in some capacity. Praise God.
I am not going to just exist. I am going to live.
Today I lived.
As soon as we our wave was released, it leaped from the enclosed pen and onto the road. After a few minutes of jostling around in the crowd I was able to look at the pace on my Polar 400 and it was 6:30 per mile. I felt good, relaxed in my breathing, but it was very soon the race and I was afraid I had set to harsh a pace. I found someone in front of me hitting 7 flat like a metronome and stayed there. The first rise in the flat terrain came crossing the Mill Avenue bridge and my pacer slide back. I maintained the pace and started reeling some runners in. I love running over this bridge and have done so for years.
It was at this point that realized a major step forward in my endurance pursuits. The crowd had thinned a bit. People were no longer leaping left and right or surging between runners to find their spot on the road. Everyone sort of had their perfect line and pace and it was just the rhythmic sound of hundreds of shoes pounding the pavement. I never thought I would hear that noise again. Be able to contribute to that cacophony of meditative bliss. For runners it a beautiful pitch and I revealed in it for the moment it lasted.
Curry. It's not just a spice it the name of the road that presents the only real vertical challenge around Tempe Town Lake and another stretch of road I have been up and down hundreds of times if not more. I found that my pace dropped here to a low 8 and some very lean rabbits were jumping past me. I pumped my arms, tucked my chin and vowed to reel in at one person with a consistent pace. I knew with my eyes closed where the real top of this incline was and I used that to my advantage going up and heading down the back.
At the bottom of Curry I passed the 2 mile marker and my pace dropped dramatically. I pulled mid-6 for most of mile, not an easy feat for me but thankful for the extra time bank. I was starting to feel the effect in my lungs, my legs were still strong and I had no aches. However at this point I noticed my mouth was dry and I began spitting what I could not swallow.
The forth mile is flat and then the last .2 miles is a fast incline into Sun Devil stadium. With a mile to go I was being passed by runners I had not seen so they must have come from the back. They had made a fatal mistake in their surge. The stadium is massive and appears much closer than it is so they started sprinting early hoping to make up time. These people needed to wait at least another half mile before putting in the surge they were showing now. Here my experience prevailed over my ego and without a change in my race strategy I pulled ahead of all of them. How strange that I was using my mind for positive positioning instead of killing myself to compete with others.
It is estimated that between 25,000 and 30,000 people ran this race. As I stated earlier, I was in a coral right up front and had no idea how many people were behind me. So it was a mild shock to turn the final corner and see thousands of people still in their corals waiting to start a race I am moments away from finishing. It started my sprint at this point and of course the extra effort produced a gag reflux. Being used to this I held my pace but I just kept thinking, "Don't puke here, not here." And I didn't.
The final climb into the stadium produced a bottle neck and runners started to slow to navigate some turns. Once out onto the football field and the finish line I was able to see the race clock read 30:21. I pushed hard and thought to myself as I crossed line at 30:57, "Well I can say I finished in thirty minutes. Good time."
I slowed to a walk and unconsciously pressed the stop button on my watch. What is this! Of course. The finish line clock starts when the first coral leaves. I was in the third coral. Each coral was sent off at :30 second intervals. I actually ran the course in UNDER 30 MINUTES. In fact the official results show 29:52. My God. Amazing. I ran my perfect race time.
I doubted myself for weeks. I didn't know if I could hold that pace. I didn't know if I was worthy of the positioning. But I kept visualizing it. I kept making the time my reality. No matter how much I doubted my ability I trusted what I was doing was working and I would see results. I feared the clock until the gun went off and then I didn't even look at my time until the finish line. I didn't even look at my heart rate, just pace. I ran hard but not over my ability. This day was a realization that I can still race in some capacity. Praise God.
I am not going to just exist. I am going to live.
Today I lived.
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