Eek, it's been awhile since I've written about running. Today I ran the Capitol Hill Classic 10-K in Washington, D.C. with my running group, and I learned three very important lessons in running:
1. Training with a group makes racing and training MUCH more enjoyable. I was new to D.C., so I joined the group in March and made some great friends who don't mind me obsessing about negative splits and finding the right running socks. It's nice to look around at points in a race where you want to die and see a familiar face slogging it out with you. Plus when I wanted to walk, one of the coaches wasn't having it and came to get me. He got me through the last 1.5 miles.
2. You CAN get faster. I thought I never would. I just thought I was slow and that was that, but looking at last summer/fall when I was running 11-minute miles (10:30 when I was lucky) to 9:20 miles is a feat I never thought would happen.
3. If you fold the top of your water cup during the race it's possible to run and drink.
Here's the recap:
I set a goal when I first joined the group of finishing the race in an hour. My first and only other 10-K race was in 2010, and I ran like an hour and 15 minutes--BAD. I was feeling more confident this time around, especially because my running group raced the route via sidewalks last week, so I knew the course and knew I could finish. I managed about 1:01 last week, so the under-hour mark was in sight.
On race morning, my husband, who I signed up for the run last week, and I made our way to the park to meet with my running crew. We did some stretches and then headed to the start. One coach, dubbed "Big Guy" shuffled us up closer to the start line saying, "We need to get out ahead of the plodders." I was thinking, "Umm, I might be one of those plodders, but OK." He then told us we'd run pretty even 9:30 miles, and we'd be fine.
But once we cross the start line, that was not what we ran. We did the first mile in 9:22, the second in 9:20 and the third in 9:13 and the fourth in 8:55. By the close of mile 4, I was dying. My throat felt chalky, I was running up a hill and the finish still seemed far away. I looked left and I saw people heading in the opposite direction and thought I must be nearing a turnaround. I keep on going and realize the course ahead seems endless. Where is this effing turnaround is all I can think. Then I started counting to 100 to distract myself from wanting to stop. The curb was looking mighty appealing from my vantage. But Big Guy saw my struggles, came to get me and motivated me the rest of the way.
So as you can imagine mile 5 was slower--10:08. So much for negative splits. Mile 6 was 9:24. I was trying to dig down deep to finish fast, but it was like my legs were done listening to me. I managed to get up to 8:14 for the last .2. Aannndddd goal accomplished! 59:09 time! A PR as well! Hmm, speaking of PRs, can I count this as a 5-K PR too?
Oh, and that turnaround I kept looking for in mile 5 wasn't a turnaround--it was people about a mile behind me just heading into that part of the race. Since I was generally a back-of-the-pack runner and not a midpack one, no wonder my brain couldn't process it.
Definitely gearing up for my second half-marathon this fall. Does anyone else say things to themselves while running a tough race like "I'm never running again," but minutes after the race is over you suddenly find yourself talking about what race is next?
