BolderBOULDER 10k 2010

I don't usually suffer from pre-race jitters, at least not so badly that I can't sleep the night before. But last night I didn't fall asleep until almost 11 and was up by 4:30. I think there were a couple of reasons for this. One was excitement for my sister, who was going to run her first 10k race. The other was excitement for myself--I was feeling pretty good about my chances for breaking 50 minutes this time. Of course, I was steadfastly ignoring the voice in my head that repeatedly pointed out that I'd run a marathon two weeks ago. And I refused to think about the last time I'd run the BolderBOULDER two weeks after a marathon--in 2007, after Colfax. After all, this year I haven't run at all since Cleveland, except for two very easy short Saturday runs with my friends. I was going into today's race rested and determined. But you know what they say about those who don't learn their history...

On the drive up this morning I discussed strategy and logistics with my sister. For one thing, my race started at 7:10 and hers at 8:55. Which meant that I would be done nearly an hour before she would even start! We agreed that she would position herself on the sidelines near the start to cheer for me when I went past, and I told her I would meet her at the 2k mark during her race, and run the rest of the way with her (at least, I told her I would try. I didn't know how much I'd have left after my own race!). When we got to the starting area (using a primo parking space suggested by a friend of hers), I gave myself a quick warmup mile and stretched. We hugged each other "Good luck" and I made my way to my corral.

As the clock inched towards my start time, I tried to quell the nervous energy I felt radiating through my arms and legs. I didn't want to let myself start too quickly and burn out. I tried to remember the lesson I'd learned last year, when I'd flared out after the first two miles following the angry burst of speed I'd used at the start to make up time (on a related note, I had learned one lesson, and double-knotted both of my shoes). I still intended to run an aggressive race, but I wanted to maintain control this time.

Even so, I let my speed get away from me a bit at the start of the race. Caught up in the excitement, I let my pace creep slowly up to around 7:30 for most of the first mile. I eased off a bit to finish in 7:44. It was a touch more aggressive than I'd wanted, but I felt confident that I could hold the 8-minute pace I wanted for the rest of the race. My split for the second mile was 8:13, which meant I'd lost all the extra time I'd built up in the first mile. At the time I figured I'd be able to maintain a steady pace and could still come in under 50 minutes. But as the course turned onto Glenwood and the 4k mark, the fact of my sleepless night (combined, I guess, with the fact that I was more tired after Cleveland than I thought) began to tell on me. My splits for miles 3 and 4 were both just under 9-minute pace, thanks to some (thankfully, short) walking breaks.

I have to admit, I was depressed. I told myself I'd let myself down, that I should have been able to keep my pace. I was still pointedly ignoring the voice in my head that was still pointing out that I'd run a marathon two weeks ago. In fact I rallied a bit in the 5th mile, which I finished just under 8:14 (8:13.99 actually). But then I slowed again, crawling along at about 9:15 pace for a quarter mile or so. I just couldn't get my legs moving any faster, and was resigning myself to a slow finish after all when I heard someone call my name. I looked and, coming up next to me, was Laura from Runner's Edge! Somehow, out of all the 50,000+ participants each year, she and I always manage to find each other. "How are you doing?" she asked. "I'm dying," I replied. But, somehow, seeing her (again!) gave me my third wind, and I increased my pace slightly for the last hill on Folsom. I turned onto Stadium Road, drawing on everything I had left to finish as strong as I could. That last little rally helped me run mile 6 in 8:55. I kept pushing as I ran through the stadium, finishing triumphantly in 52:30. It wasn't a PR, but it was my second fastest 10k.

After spending about 45 minutes recovering in the stadium and chatting with some friends, I made my way up Folsom to meet Sara at the 2k mark as we'd agreed. As it happened, I got there just in time and still nearly missed her. She called my name and I joined her on the course. We ran along at what was, for her, a solid effort that she'd have to work to maintain for the whole race, taking regular walk breaks. Personally I was glad for the breaks...In due course we made it to the last hill up Folsom. At the 9k mark (bottom of the hill), I told Sara, "Okay, that's it, no more walking. We're going to run out this last 'k'." "No problem," she said.

As we turned onto Stadium Drive, I exhorted her to pick up her pace even more. This, however, proved problematic as for some inexplicable reason people were walking! Seriously, I don't get it. And I'm all about the walk breaks. I understand making them a regular part of your run (I've done that in my last 4 marathons and PR'd each time), and I definitely understand doing that when you're tired (that happened to me 3 times today). But when you've got less than a quarter mile to go? Why would you walk? Slow down if you need to, but come on! You're so close! Sara and I bobbed and weaved our way into the stadium as I continued to urge her to run as fast as she could. She did, giving herself a very strong finish for her first ever 10k!

Official Time: 52:30
Total Races: 6
YTD Race Miles: 85.9
YTD Total Miles: 502.3
Most Inspirational Moment: The first three finishers of the Men's Elite race, all from Team Ethiopia, crossing the finish line together, hands clasped and raised skyward in victory.