Donor Dash 5k 2009

My July 5k was the "family tradition" race, the Donor Dash in Washington Park. This race--which was, incidentally, my first 5k--is put on by the Donor Alliance and honors, as you might guess, organ donors and recipients. Now, most races support one cause or another; and while I believe that is honorable and important, it's never a determining factor for me. But this one is different because I have a personal connection. Since my mother was an organ donor, I feel this is an important race for me and my family to support; which is why we've run it almost every year for the past 4 (we missed 2007 because we were in London).

One of the interesting things about doing a race over and over again is watching things change, particulary the number of participants. The BolderBOULDER is a great example of this, because each year more and more people sign up for it (upwards of 50,000 this year!). And, although it has a long way to go before even approaching those kind of numbers, the Donor Dash is similarly exploding. When we first ran it in 2006, there were 952 registered runners. This year, they had over 3,000! If things continue like this, they may have to move it out of Washington Park in a few years.

The night before the race, I was at my alma mater, Regis Jesuit High School, for my 15-year class reunion. That was a fun opportunity to catch up with several friends I haven't spoken to or even seen in the past 15 years (even with Facebook, I've connected with only a very few, and that very casually). The food was great; and, while not my usual pre-race meal, it certainly fit the bill. And as the evening wore on (a lovely expression. With your permission, I'll say it again: "The evening wore on."), I enjoyed hearing stories about what my old friends had been up to for the past decade-and-a-half, and regaling them with stories of my own race exploits. I even spent some time trying to convince one of them to come out and join Runner's Edge of the Rockies for a Saturday morning run (c'mon, Goody, you know you want to)! But about 9:00 I figured it was time for me to head back home, to get a solid night's sleep before the Big Race.

Sunday morning was cool, but the lack of clouds in the sky promised that it would get pretty warm pretty quick. In spite of that, I felt confident that I would have a good race, and could even be on target for another PR. After my family and I walked over to the starting area, I set myself up close to the front, ready to go. At just after 8:00 (a slight delay caused by the huge number of race-day registrants), the horn sounded and we were off! I set an aggressive pace to start, and with first Aerosmith and then Guns N Roses blasting in my ears, I covered the first mile in 7:13 (as I confirmed later. I wasn't going to look at my watch this time. The volunteer calling out times said "7:24" when I passed, but it had taken me a few seconds to cross the start line).

Unlike at most 5k races in Wash Park, the water station was set at about 1.3 miles in (it's usually halfway). As I approached, I wrestled with the decision to stop for a drink and eventually did so. I felt like I was still on pace for about a 7:15 second mile, and a few moments' walking didn't seem likely to hurt much. I worried a bit about making it through the rest of the race if the water station was set this close, but reasoned that there might be another one at about 2.5. Sure enough, there was. Good thing, too, as my pace had started to slip thanks to the sun starting to warm things up. My walk break through the second aid station was slightly longer than the first, but I still felt that I was making good time so I wasn't too concerned.

5ks in Washington Park run one and a half loops around the park. As I came around to the south side of the Park on my second lap, I began passing walkers about halfway done with their first mile. Just as the course turned towards the finish, a bit before the 3 mile mark, I heard someone call my name. I glanced to my left and saw my kid sister Maggie(!) and her husband Marty, who waved. I waved back and turned into the last tenth of a mile, turning up the juice as much as I had left. In the distance I could see the finisher's clock, just turning over 23:30. Determined to come in under 24 minutes, I cranked up as much as I could. All of my attention was focused on that clock. Just before it read 24:00, I crossed the finish line.

After I finished, I walked along the course to look for and cheer on my family. My dad, who after the Father's Day 5k last month has been training (on the Stairmaster. Dad, if you want to be a faster runner, you should train on the track!), came over the 3 mile mark some time later. I hollered for him to pick up for a strong finish, but he didn't hear me--his iPhone was cranked up too loud! Ah well. About half a mile away from the finish I met up with my sister Sara. As I'd promised, I ran the rest of the race in with her, encouraging her to a strong finish as well. After that we waited in the shade for Maggie and Marty, who were walking with Sara's dog.

Everyone had a really great time at the race. It was nice for me, after spending an evening among old friends, to spend the morning with family; and nice for us all, I think, to do something to honor my mother.

Official Time: 23:59
Total Races: 15
YTD Race Miles: 109.7
YTD Total Miles: 666.7
Prerace beers (at reunion): 4

Liberty Run 4-mile 2009

I signed up for this race at the urging of my friend Bret, who said that we could probably run it in 32 minutes. I eagerly accepted the challenge, because a) I believed it was possibe, given the way my races turned out in the Spring, b) the chance to race with friends is always appealing to me, and c) it would allow me to say that (with one exception) I ran a race every weekend between Memorial Day and the 4th of July.

Leading up to the race, I began focusing on my performance, developing my strategy and visualizing the race, and feeling the adrenaline surge that happens every time I do that. Four eight minute miles, even along the flat course that is Washington Park, would require focus and determination, but I knew I was up to the challenge. As today drew closer, Bret and I swapped encouragements and positive vibes. How could we fail?

This morning we met at Washington Park, ready to race and race hard. Bret and I set ourselves towards the front of the pack, while his wife Carol and daughter Lauren (who was running her first race EVER) also insinuated themselves into the pack. There was a pretty good crowd for a holiday race (my friend Keri, who was organizing it, told me there were upwards of 400 participants), the sun was shining but there was still some cloud cover, and despite a fair amount of humidity (thanks to last night's rain) I still felt that this was going to be a good race. I knew I'd be able to come in under 32 minutes.

I was determined not to look at my Garmin in this race--I have decided that I do better in short races when I don't. I even set it to the map screen in case I couldn't resist the temptation to glance down (to which, I'm very happy to say, I only gave in as I finished each mile). I was going to run this race entirely by feel, and push as hard as I could. When the race started, I let myself get pulled along by the adrenaline rush of the fastest runners. I kept the lead vehicle in sight for the better part of the first half mile, though, so I know I was setting a pretty blistering pace for myself. That's appropriate for my shorter race distance strategy--set a strong beginning, then ease back (slightly) to what I like to think of as my "hardly comfortable" (as opposed to "comfortably hard") pace which I'll hold for the rest of the race. One of the challenges I've faced as I've tried to develop and fine-tune my strategy is knowing when to start pulling back from that strong beginning: too soon, and I can lose the mental edge that I create; too late, and I burn out more quickly.

I finished the first mile in 7:13. I was still feeling very strong and pumped along by my music and the excitement of racing, but knew that it was time to pull back (only a little) and settle into my "hardly comfortable" speed. I drew up to the aid station at the halfway point at 15:29, clocking 7:30 for the second mile. I hoped I could hold that pace for the rest of the race, after a quick break at the aid station.

The race organizers this year had a special treat: instead of cups, every racer had been given a HydraPouch at the start of the race, and carried it with them to fill at the aid station. It's a novel idea and a decent product, and a way to eliminate a lot of waste at races. I'm sure the volunteers love it. It holds about six ounces of water, weighs next to nothing, and clips on your shorts. Unfortunately, I dropped mine as I tried to re-clip it after the aid station, and just kept running rather than pick it up. Oh, well. It's not like it cost me anything but time.

However, the fierce pace I'd run for the first mile was starting to take its toll, as well as the heat and humidity, and I was feeling the effects as I ran through the third mile. It was noticeably slower; and although I didn't walk any of it (except at the start by the aid station), I was still going at about 8:00 pace--still on target for my finish goal, but no longer as aggressive as I'd started. I focused on my cadence, using the music as a metronome for my footstrikes. I gave myself a short walk break as I finished the third mile, intending to crank up again and really push through the whole of the last mile. But as I've noted before, if I let myself walk once, it's easier to let myself walk again and again as the miles continue. Sure enough, with about a quarter mile to go, I slowed once more to a (thankfully, very short) walk.

(This only applies to shorter races, I think. As you know, I ran the OKC marathon in April using regular short walks--once per mile--as my strategy. And I reaped a huge reward from that, stand by it, and will continue to use it for the forseeable future. But as anyone who's ever run one knows, what works in a marathon is very different from what works in a 5K or--in this case--a 4-mile.)

If nothing else, the two short breaks in the final mile let me recover enough juice to have a very strong finish. I saw Bret's older daughter Sierra as I came up to the finish. I gave her a quick smile and then focused all of my attention on the clock, which read 31:25. I pushed my pace as hard as I could, counting down from 35 (the number of seconds I had left to hit my goal) with my footstrikes. This is something I do when I run on the treadmill: I pick a period of time (say 5 minutes) and count down footstrikes until I hit zero, then glance at the clock to see how much of the 5 minutes is left and count down again from that point, and repeat until the time is up. It's a mild OCD trick, but it helps me focus. Interestingly in this case, I crossed the finish line just as my footstrike countdown reached zero, but before the finishing clock read 32:00. I'd cut it rather fine, but had made my goal.

Official Time: 31:48
Total Races: 14
YTD Race Miles: 106.6
YTD Total Miles: 626.5
Lost: One HydraPouch, looking for replacement