The Alpha Delta 5K Run
September 29, 2007
-- Ocean View, Delaware
3.1 Mile Run.
http://www.seashorestriders.com
Following the PDR record, my first serious 5K attempt in a decade.
Originally Published to TRI-DRS on October 1, 2007.
Every great song, every great book, every great work of art, begins with a
single spark. A thought. A flash of inspiration. A spark that takes a gathering
confluence of potential, and unleashes it to parts unknown.
As I sat in a training classroom on some idle Friday morning, Joe Bator started
it. In looking at my splits from the Philadelphia Distance Run, he noted that my
last 5K took 23:05. He wrote, "Your 5K PR is 22:31. It's SOFT. You can break
that."
Then Mark Seale upped the ante. "I bet right now, you can get under 21. Can you
find one this weekend and take care of that for us? The pressure is killing me."
For ha-ha's, I took a look. St. Lynda, Katie, and I would be heading down to
Bethany Beach, Delware for the weekend, and there always seemed to be a race
nearby. Sure enough, wouldn't you know it, there would be a 5K road race nearby.
Less than 2 miles away! I had to go for it. I hadn't really run at all during
the week, so I'd certainly be rested. I HAD to go for it.
Once I put that out there, the reaction of the fast was, well, fast. Joe wrote
back to me with a most exquisite, detailed, and complete battle plan:
---------------
"Okay. Clearly it has been, oh, a decade since you last ran a 5K, so take this
as some friendly advice for your next one. Warm-up. Ideally run the course as a
warm-up. You get to see where the turns, and hills and finish is. At a minimum
run 15 minutes before the race. Plan to finish your warm-up with 5-6 very fast
strides finishing the last one hard."
----------------
I liked the suggestion for a good warmup, so I ran the 2 miles to the start, and
then ran the course as a warmup. Nice and easy, but with the striders that he
talked about. I felt good - the weather was cool and perfect, and the course was
typical Southern Delaware: Flat, flat, flat.
I arrived at the start line at 8:57AM - three minutes to spare, and ready to go.
----------------
"You found the race, what were the times the last couple of years? Where would a
19, 20, 21 minute finish put you in the field? How close to the top woman? Line
up based on that. If the above suggests you will be in the top 50 or better.
Line up in the front, second or third row."
----------------
The field was small - 53 starters. What was funny was that when we were called
to the line, nobody lined up at the front. Everyone stood 3 feet back of the
"START" marked with chalk, so I just pretended it was perfectly normal for me to
be there, and stepped right up.
I put my right foot right on the line, took a breath, and got ready to go. After
I got up there, I was joined by 4 other men and one woman. They looked fast, but
that didn't worry me. So did I. They didn't need to know this was all new to me;
if I acted the part, I was the part.
-----------------
"Plan for a fast start of 200 yards and then settle down to a hard but not (I'm
about to die - you'll need that later) pace. DO NOT WEAR A WATCH. Look around
you after 200 yards. This is your group. How many people are
in front of you? How many women? Is it the right number? Good."
------------------
"Runners ready? Set?"
BANG.
I hit the start hard, and found myself in the lead. "Well, this is certainly
different..." I thought through the first corner. I didn't need to worry too
much - I was passed by two men, and they took off. For the next few hundred
yards, I could feel the field behind me. I could hear footsteps and hard
breathing, but nobody wanted to come past me.
I just worked to find my groove, 'the settle' as we call it in the Dragon Boat.
The warmup had worked - I knew I was running really hard, but it felt fine. I
was hurting, but I was control - right where I needed to be. As I found my pace,
two more people went by me - one man, and the lead female. They settled in about
25 meters ahead of me.
And stayed there.
------------------
"This is the glide part of the race. Smooth fast on the line. Water is only to
wet your mouth (if you don't need to you are going to slow). Concentrate on the
person in front of you. About 13 minutes in you will feel like you
are about to die. Since you won't be wearing a watch this will be the 2 mile
point (or so). Assume every mile marker to be off so when they yell out splits
smile and know they are for amusement only."
------------------
From my pre-run, I knew the course was basically an out and back: Out Central
Avenue, two neighborhood loops - one after the other - then a return on Central
Avenue. As we worked through the first loop, it was very quiet. In my mind, I
was running a 20-minute time trial. The lead two guys were gone - horizon job.
But third and fourth place?
Right there - right ahead of me. One male, lead female. They had gapped me in
the beginning, but I'd been able to hang right with them through the end of the
first loop. Out onto Central Avenue for the short stretch before the second
loop, I had a thought. "Right now, the podium is two places away." I knew if I
could just keep them in sight, I might have a shot.
Just like Joe had predicted, I felt like I was going to die.
I was right where I needed to be.
The guy was sitting right on the lead female's shoulder - right next to her. I
noticed that he was also CONSTANTLY checking his HRM. He'd run 10-12 strides,
then glance. Run, glance. Run, glance. As we turned off Central onto the second
loop, he glanced again.
"He's got to be worried..." I thought. "She's running her race, and he's hanging
on, trying not to get beat...by a woman."
I took a quick look behind me, and there was nothing. Nobody. Sixth place was at
least 30 seconds back - no pressure from behind. For me, the race was all about
what was up the road. I hadn't seen a mile marker, but that was fine with me - I
didn't want to know, and I didn't need to know.
---------------
"Now you are tired, about to die, and have just a fast finish to go. Do not let
anyone pass. Look at the person up ahead and imagine they are the last one under
20 minutes. If you beat them you get it, if not, you don't.
GET IT. You are an f'ing runner.
The last mile is less than 7 minutes long and you already spent a minute
thinking about the last mile. You can do anything for 5 minutes! Remember that."
---------------
As I watched the guy look at his heart rate again, and again, I remembered Joe's
advice. The gap had remained the same - they hadn't been able to drop me. And
now as we turned onto Central Avenue for the drive to the line, I knew it was
time to really suffer. "It won't kill you - it won't last forever. CLOSE THE
GAP."
I had been in this position on my bike 100 times in races. The break is right
there - I've been working to bridge it, solo, hanging in the wind, dying with
every pedal stroke. Now I knew I would either get up there, or die trying. "Not
all at once - creep it. Creep it. Easy."
One step at a time, one inch at a time, the gap closed.
20 meters.
15 meters.
10 meters.
The cars going past were just enough to hide the sounds of my footfalls; as the
gap closed, neither she, nor he, looked back. I could taste the adrenaline in my
mouth - I was going to catch them. Now I was certain of that.
5 meters.
3 meters.
They still don't hear me.
2 meters.
And then, there were three.
I slotted in right behind the two of them, with less than a half mile to go. The
guy was still looking down every few strides, but he had slipped back a bit; he
was just off her left shoulder, sitting just out of sight...and I knew why. He
was going to try and make his move soon.
And that's when I knew what I was going to do.
"When he goes, you go. If they don't know you're there, you'll get 'em both."
And as soon as I finished that thought, he went. He opened his stride, darted
left, and pulled alongside of the lead female. Then he looked over at her...
...which meant he never saw me coming.
When I pulled even with his shoulder, it was his look I remember. His head
swiveled a bit to the left, then whipped all the way over in a startled
double-take.
So did hers.
And right then, right there, a single command appeared in my mind.
"GO."
In that moment - in that microsecond where they both looked over at me, 20 years
of bike racing - 20 years of cat-and-mouse chasing, took over. I found whatever
speed I had left in my body, and buried myself. This was the moment I knew I
could break them - surprise had them reeling, and now I needed to take whatever
hope they might have had of catching me, and bury it.
I didn't look back - I didn't dare ackowledge them. If I had, they might have
seen the panic on my face. They might have seen the pain. But since they didn't
know I was new to this whole racing-at-the-front thing, there was really no need
to tell them. I just kept right on pretending this was exactly what I was going
to do all along...because I wasn't really pretending anymore.
I was doing it.
I locked eyes with the volunteer at the next corner, and leaned around him like
I was cornering my bike. I imagined both of them trying to hang on to me, but
knowing they just didn't have it. I've been that guy - the guy who's hanging on
for dear life, but who knows with every step...it's over. Now that I was the one
making the move, I didn't dare let up.
There was nothing left for me to do - I knew I was running as fast as I could. I
had no idea what kind of time I would see on the finish clock, but I knew it had
to be good.
My lips were tingling - my teeth were numb. My breathing was getting desperate -
but I knew it was okay. Not long to go now. I couldn't have run the race any
harder than I had - I was sure of that. I felt like I was going to pass out at
any second.
Through the last turn and onto the straightaway behind the Lord Baltimore
School, I couldn't hear anyone, so I took a look back...
...and there was nothing.
The lead female was 10 seconds back, and the guy? Gone.
In one pass, I'd done it - I'd made the top three! Holy cow - it worked!
I'd done it!
I'D DONE IT!
I'D DONE IT!
HAAAAAAA!
Just when I thought my smile might break my face, as I turned the bend towards
the line, I saw the clock for the first time. I hadn't looked at my watch the
entire way; partially out of fear, but mostly out of the desire to concentrate
on what I was doing.
I couldn't believe what I saw.
20:52
20:53
20:54
I crossed the line in 20:56 - a new 5K PR by 1:34. I'd averaged 6:44 per mile
for the entire distance - my first race of any kind under 7 minutes per mile.
Third overall.
First, then second, then Bob.
Third overall.
----------------
"After finishing do a cool down of 10 or more minutes. You will be glad you did.
Then get your age group award."
---------------
And that's exactly what I did. Second in 30-39 earned me a nice engraved medal
that I folded into my pocket. I shook hands with the race director, thanked him
for having me, and turned to start my run home.
Because Joe said so.
Hurricane Bob
* Joe Cool. *
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