A few lessons in “how NOT to show up for a race and expect to run fast”
… all mixed in with a, “I don’t care because being home was great and OH<3<3<3”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I don’t usually have a problem with the time change when I go back to Ohio – my internal alarm clock is so busted it doesn’t care what time it is. Until this weekend.
I was pretty disappointed when I found out there weren’t any 3am bonfire ragers being planned in my honor and people had “things to get up for in the morning”, but it was good because each night I found myself head-to-pillow at a respectable time.
Like the mature adult I
am pretend to be.
what do you expect to happen when there are buschy pops and low-hanging branches??
Except I COULD NOT shut my dang brain off! The whole trip! I don’t care what we’re having for lunch or who’s pitching Sunday or what the capital of Mumbai is or what the course record is or when season two of Nashville starts!
NO! DON’T GOOGLE THAT!
*opens hulu+ app and watches season finale*
For a self-proclaimed “controlled narcoleptic”, it was like my only super power (being able to fall asleep, at will, wherever and whenever) was broken. And as I watched the clock tick all the way through the 1am hour with a 3:30am race day alarm set, I knew I was in trouble.
spoiler : IT’S NOT
Thanks to never committing to full REM sleep, I went through my morning routine feeling alright. Peppy even. Dance-party-in-the-parking-garage and delirious energy had me thinking maybe ZZ’s were over-rated and I’d have a great race as we walked up to the start…
mel, mom, spectator/driver gram, and cousin soaking in the magic of one of the worst franchises in NFL history…
We had plenty of time before the race, so I busied myself chatting with everyone and bumping into 1) an old softball coach, 2) an ex-boyfriend and his new wife who doesn’t like me, 3) a few friends from high school, and 4) the boy I got caught making out with on the back porch with in 10th grade. Luckily mom doesn’t remember that as vividly as he does. (still scarred, he says)
Anyway let’s fast forward – pee x3, half start, pee, warm up, 10k start.
I lined up in front of the 7:30 pace flag, knowing the crowd would undoubtedly be slower than my 7:25 goal pace. I was probably 50m or so from the front? It’s usually a fast field (lots of prize money) so I figured I was good.
WRONG SO WRONG OMG WHEN ARE PEOPLE GOING TO LEARN HOW TO LINE UP AT A RACE?!
We started uphill and I plowed over 100* people in the first 100 meters, and continued throwing ‘bows at WALKERS 1/4 mile in. Excuse me for the F-bombs I littered Lakeside Ave with, Cleveland.
*possible exaggeration but not by much
foolproof way to make sure you don’t go out too fast – a start line hill and front-row walkers
Anyway, the short of the race is this : Feel like crap from mile one (despite eventually getting some space to open up and stretch out), try to believe crazy erratic breathing and lead legs mean you’re doing it right (ignore being :30s off pace),swear off 10Ks forever, swear off Ohio running forever, barter with “you can walk through the next fuel stop!” (which never came, thankfully), and praise the
lord race director for a downhill finish, without which I most definitely would NOT have PR’d.
Cleveland 10K, 5.19.13 – :47.43 (*New PR)
Yeah, there were a couple hills, a seemingly never-ending cross/headwind, the route was boring as shit, and I didn’t sleep. I managed a 20ish second PR and felt like absolute hell the whole time.
To quantify my ”I know I can do better” disappointment, I ran only :01/mile faster this weekend than I did for the half at Eugene. (more than twice the distance) Soooooo YEAH. I’d say “go get ‘em next time!” but truthfully I have no desire to run another 10K anytime soon.
Or run on 90minutes sleep again. Unless it comes with a big white van and slap bracelet.
The good news is, the day was salvaged simply by being in Cleveland. We got to celebrate a bunch of great races including my mom and cousin’s first 10k, I met some cool people (hi Kaitlin, Leah, Christy, and Allison!), and I got to do something I love. Even the not-so-great races are better than no races, which I
sometimes frequently need reminded.
Oh and there was baseball. AUTOMATIC WIN.
Love ya, CLE.