This blog is now retired. My new site is at: Predictably Irrational.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Run for the Oaks 5K Race Report

Wow. This race is something I do nearly every year, at least the last seven years! I like it; it's my cue that Spring is here (whether it is or not).

I wasn't nervous about it this year. I was not going into it trying to PR. I wanted to get my feet wet for racing; for recovery from injury; recovery from a long break (to me) from my running routine.

But it apparently was on my mind as I had a dream about running "a" race...not necessarily *this* race.

I remember that I started the race really s*l*o*w. The attribution would be to my workout with Brittany (a kick-ass-and-hot instructor that had me do sprints this past Wednesday). So the start of the race was to go really slow, so slow that it is uncomfortable. And that's what I was doing in my dream, thinking about Brittany's workout (still in my dream).

Then the next mile, I 'feel' from the dream, was going faster. And I ended up on a familiar race route (not a real-life one, but it was familiar to me in my dream) and I took off. And suddenly, I heard $Bill telling me "Just Go!" and we were running together, with him a slight lead ahead of me, egging me on to run fast. And I was. And I seemed "veiled" from the finish, like I couldn't see it. And I could hear $Bill just telling me to keep pushing, that we were close to the finish. And he was right! We finished and I looked at my watch and I saw that we had finished the 5K in 23:xx...the last two miles being 7:0x miles. Of course, this appears to be the average overall, but hey, it's *my* dream and I am just telling YOU what my dream said!

And I was floored (still in the dream). How the hell did we just run 7 minute miles when we started so uncomfortably slow? It was an amazing feeling: that I ran faster than I ever had in my entire life and it didn't feel bad. Of course, the amazing feeling faded fast when I woke up and realized, it was all a dream.

Overall, the race, for me, was great. I didn't PR. I didn't do the speed I would like to think I would normally do. But I ran hard and I ran the entire way.

I could reminisce last year's race (and the year before that) and know exactly where someone I knew tried talking to me; or where I decided to sabotage myself and take off a sweatshirt. But not this year: I kept on running. The entire way. Up the hills (and many of them). And not feel like I had to stop.

I mean, I thought about how nice that would be...and how nice it would be if the race would be over NOW. But overall, I had a positive energy about me. I didn't let the heavy breathers and stompers and walkers bother me.

I didn't let the heat bother me (I was in shorts and my Turkey Trot shirt, with a tank underneath, but never stopped or slowed down to take it off...I ran through it).

I didn't care that I was behind, what I thought was, a slower time than what I should be.

I just ran. And tried to enjoy the burn.

And I don't know if I can say that I enjoyed the burn, I can say that I stayed focus.

Well, for the most part. I did see the route as a bit disheartening. I would think: hey, I'm on Blount Street. I'll be finishing soon (in the third mile). And then I would see a turn OFF Blount and then I would sigh. And then I would think "that's the turn to the end!" and then I would see more runners, ahead, turning BACK onto Blount street. And then I would sigh louder.

But it didn't stop me. And that's what I'm thankful for.

My final chip time: 26:39. My PR on *this* race (but different course) is 25:30, when Mark ran with me (BTW, my first blog post EVER). My overall PR is 24:59.

I am pretty happy with it, given the fact that I saw 26:57 as I crossed the finish. My gun time is 27:01 and I would like to think that I can, at the very least, run under 27 even without great training.

The course was tough. I ran with Tim for about half of it. Then he upped his pace a bit as I slowed mine down.

It's funny because my first mile, as hard as it felt, was approximately an 8:44 pace. I thought it was just like my dream! Although it was uncomfortably faster than an uncomfortably slow pace.

I did about an 8:17 second mile then slowed back down for the third mile. Still, I ran. I ran hard. I had to count: 1, 2, 3, 4, BREATH...1, 2, 3, 4, BREATH. I had a good rhythm.

So, overall, I'm pretty happy. As the neurotic me would say: I wish I was faster. But if I had ran a 25:30 with walking, or even just the hurt, I wouldn't be happy.

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