I've had this one on the calendar for a while. Over the past week since my first big marathon-focused workout, I tried to log miles with the goal of feeling better each day than the one prior. I logged several days with decent minutes, 70-80, and was feeling good to work out. But then, I bagged a Thursday workout because I had friends willing to make the trek to my place and run. At that point I had no excuses left for today's race. I should have been reasonably fresh and ready to run hard.
Similar to the An Ras Mor 5k two weeks ago, it was starting to rain and in the mid-40s as I started my warm up with Sam Wood. We jogged the first and last miles of the course, which helped me remember and visualize what that last uphill before the massive downhill to the finish was like. I felt confident that if I could get over the last long, gradual hill in lead position that I'd be able to take the win. So, in a way, it was like a 4 mile commitment in my mind, with a downhill 5th mile as icing on the cake.
As we warmed up, I saw fellow UNH alum, Andrew Van Hoogenstyn "Hoogie", Nate Huppe, and someone far off who I suspected was Nacho Hernando, the up-and-coming young buck hailing from Spain who notably crushed several races on snowshoes this winter. Last time I toed the line with Hernando or Hoogie, I was beaten badly; Hernando by over 1 minute at a 4+ mi snowshoe race, and Hoogie by 9 minutes or so at the Cape Cod Marathon, 2012.
But... I wanted that win today. I drove to Dover to win; not to play softball with a close competitor and let it come down to a kick (which I'd probably lose, especially to the wheels of Hernando). Former roommate and long-time trusted training partner Marc put it like this to me yesterday, "Trust your VO2. Lock into that rhythm and trust your VO2 to drive you through". I took that advice and rolled with it.
I lined up with 2 minutes before race start. The gent keeping runners at the line told those who were listening that they had re-certified the course, pushing back the start line about "50 yards" back from past years. Before I could calculate how much time that would dock me as I was attempting to better last year's 26:15, the gun fired.
It was very sudden. There was no National Anthem like last year. I was so surprised that I think I got off the line quicker than most of the lead group. The exception being the dozen or so middle and high school aged kids furiously sprinting the uphill start. The last poor soul I passed was a tall lanky fellow wearing what appeared to be a full backpack, around a 1/4 of a mile in. Then it was Nacho and I stride-for-stride. He looked good and fit. He said before the race he wanted to run about 26". I told him I wanted a little quicker than that. I had wanted to hit mile 1 at 5:05 and was disappointed to hear 5:10. Immediately upon hearing the split, I amped up the pace. It was go-time. This was now a 4 mile race and 5:10s would probably keep Nacho in the game all the way.
No one called splits and I didn't see my watch at mile 2, but in retrospect it was probably a good thing, as Garmin tells me I hit 4:53 for that one. All alone, I cruised through the first aid station around 2.5 miles and no one was cheering. There were probably 15 people standing there, all holding water cups, and I'm not sure anyone said anything. I started laughing to myself, thinking about how intense I must look to scare volunteers into silence, but then a few people at the top of the hill past the aid station gestured a few kind words. Around this point, the race becomes very winding. I recalled how Dave Dunham had razzed me last year about not running the tangents, so you better believe I was darn sure to run the clearest point-to-point race possible, while still allowing cars on the road a chance to get by.
Unfortunately, I saw the split for 3 miles. 5:14. ****! To my knowledge I'd run a 5:10, a mystery number, and a 5:14. I was feeling kind of negative and my legs were pretty beat, but at this point I was also leading and the distant cheers for whomever was in second urged me onward. I cruised through the last aid station around 3.7 and hit the long gradual uphill as hard and smooth as I could. Someone at 4 miles was reading the total time. He said something like "43, 44, 45"... Was that 20:43 or 21:43? I didn't know. My 4 mile split rang and it showed a 5:22. Confusion set in. Where am I in this race? Was everyone running slowly? Was Nacho on my tail? In hindsight I would have been a whole lot more excited if I had set my watch correctly to display the running time. *palm-to-face*.
I hit that last mile as fast as I could. It's hard not to go fast there. There is roughly 100m of climb before an insane downhill begins, incorporating a few undulating plateaus to the finish. I felt stronger and more composed there than last year. I saw the finishing clock and to my relief I was well under 26:00. I finished with a 25:33 and a 4:51 last mile for the win.
Garmin data here.
Overall Results here.
I felt pretty sick after finishing. I normally don't feel that way but, after New Bedford and now today's race, I've felt like I might puke. Maybe I've figured out how to run hard again? I linked up with Hoogie, Huppe, and Carolyn Durfee for a long cooldown along the course. There was a very brief awards ceremony which, apparently, I missed. I met up with dad who had run slower than last year, but still good enough for 2nd place in his age group. We celebrated by grabbing some grub at an Irish pub downtown before parting ways.
I'm very pleased with this race. As I've been primarily training for the marathon, I still have legs to move quickly. I knew I didn't have much time for marathon prep in this cycle, and so it's good to come off a hard 20+ miler and race well. I have an an over-distance long run planned for later this coming week, and probably a 4x2 mi @ 5:25 somewhere in there as well.
In the meantime, good luck to everyone with their final preparations for Boston! It's looking to be a race unlike any years past.
No comments:
Post a Comment