Donor Dash 5k 2010

The year 2000 saw the first Donor Dash in Denver, Colorado. It was a very small race. Today was the 11th running of that race, and it had a record crowd: 3,500 registered participants! Once again, as they have for the past 4 years, my younger sister Sara, my kid sister Maggie and her husband Marty, and my Dad all joined me in Washington Park for this race.

I felt very confident about this race. The mental strength training I've been doing lately with Ashley from Runner's Roost, combined with some tweaks and adjustments to my running form I've incorporated over the last week, left me feeling good about having a strong race and hopefully PRing. Sure, I ran 18 miles yesterday, but I'd spent the rest of the day off my feet and relaxing after an ice bath. I was as recovered as I was going to be. Plus, I had something else on my side: a new course.

Because the race was so big this year, they decided the couldn't keep everyone inside Washington Park for the typical loop-and-a-half 5k course. Instead, although the start line was in essentially the same place on the southeast side, we were routed out of the park at Arizona and ran along the streets: Arizona to Gilpin, south to Louisiana, then North along Downing to Virginia and across to Franklin before entering the park again at Exposition. Then we followed the inner loop east and south, turning in at the crossroad and finishing in the usual place, just north of Mississippi.

I have found that I tend to do better on new courses. I don't know why, but there's something about new scenery that translates into better races for me. Or maybe it's just that I've gotten bored running the same old Washington Park 5k loop. Whatever, I believe that the new course was a positive factor in today's race. Once I got out of the park and onto Gilpin, the crowd loosened up and I was able to move through the pack fairly quickly. I'd attacked the course with some intensity, wanting to set the tone for myself of a strong and fast race. Granted, for the first quarter mile or so, I was limited in how much attacking I could do, just because there were so many people to contend with; but once we were on the wider streets that was easier. I kept my intensity up, fueled by the people I managed to pass as I ran up Downing.

I reached the 1 mile mark in 7 minutes and 22 seconds. My 5k PR in Colorado Springs last year was run at a 7:25 average, so I noted with extreme satisfaction that I was on track for a new PR. I also noticed something very interesting indeed: in the crowd, about a quarter mile ahead of me, was what looked like the back of a familiar bald head! He was too far ahead for me to be certain; but I wondered, could that possibly be my friend Jason? Sure looked like him: white singlet, dark shorts, about the right size (from what I could judge from a quarter mile away), and a shiny, bald head. The shoes were green, and I couldn't remember what color shoes Jason had now; but, I thought, that could actually be him! But if so, what's he doing this far back? He's about a mile and a quarter into the race; after seven and a half minutes, he should be closer to a mile and a half, and out of my line of sight. Unless he's taking it (very easy)...and if he is, maybe I could pick him off! A wild, improbable hope surged within my breast, lightening my feet and pushing me forward. The barest possibility that I could give Jason a run for his money in a 5k put a fresh shot of adrenaline into my legs.

These thoughts flashed through my brain with the speed of a European bullet train. The coldly logical part of my brain told me that it was extremely unlikely that Jason would be at this race, or that I would see him if he was--he'd be too far ahead of me. But because the vision of catching up to him was so enticing and was helping me run, I chose to ignore the logic and go with the fantasy. After another half mile or so I could see that it was not, in fact, my friend; but as chasing him was keeping me at a good pace I decided to continue thinking of him as "Jason."

I ran out the rest of the second mile, grimly determined to catch up to "Jason." As I ran, I checked in with my running style and breathing, working on (but not obsessing about) my form and footstrikes. I made a conscious effort to keep my strides somewhat shorter, which allows me to conserve energy and run a bit faster. Remembering a lesson I learned from Thursday's session with Ashley, and my run afterward, I also made sure to keep smiling (I've discovered that if I smile while running--even if I don't really feel like smiling--things seem to go easier for me).

I was inching my way up the line, drawing ever closer to "Jason" and passing other runners at the same time. At about 1.7, as I was running across Virginia and going uphill, I started to think that I couldn't keep up the pace, that I'd have to slow down. Knowing that I was just over halfway done with the race, I ground my teeth (mentally; I was still smiling) and ignored that voice, concentrating on the rock music playing on my iPod until the voice went away. At 2 miles we turned back into the park. I knew I was on the home stretch at this point. At that point, something interesting happened: my iPod started playing Metallica's "Master of Puppets." This is long song. I couldn't think just how long at the moment, but knew it was at least 7 minutes. I knew I had just over a mile to go, and was determined to reach the finish line before the song was over. I knew I was tired, because I'd been running a hard race the day after an 18 mile training run. I hadn't noticed my mile 2 split, but felt I was still on pace for a new PR. I was drawing closer to "Jason," although he too was still keeping an aggressive pace. I dug as deep as I could to keep my legs moving, and ran and ran.

At 3 miles, we turned onto the cross road to the finish. I poured the last of my energy into forcing my legs to move faster. Two things happened simultaneously as the finish line came into view: "Master" began wrapping up, and I came up right behind "Jason," who glanced over his right shoulder and saw me. As the song's final bars played in my ears, I pulled abreast of "Jason" and, with meters to spare, lunged ahead of him and crossed the finish line.

Sadly, this race was not a PR for me. In fact, I missed that mark by 18 seconds. Turns out I ran the 2nd mile in 7:29, and the last in 7:44 (plus 44 seconds for the last tenth). I hadn't felt like I'd slowed down, and I know I increased speed in the last minutes. I can only put it down to being more tired than I'd thought from yesterday's long run. As such, I'm not losing much sleep over it (apart from being sad and surprised that I couldn't make up that 18 seconds). The race was a good chance for me to use several tips and strategies I've been developing and working on over the past few weeks, and I'm quite pleased with their results.

Official Time: 23:17
YTD Race Miles: 106.1
YTD Training Miles: 669.2
Best part about running with family: They can go get me recovery drinks while I'm having a massage!

Liberty Run 4-mile 2010

Compared with yesterday's heat, this morning was almost letter-perfect! The race didn't start till 8:30 (by which time yesterday I was almost finished with my 16 mile run with Runner's Edge of the Rockies), and it was much cooler than 24 hours ago--although it was a bit sticky and humid. I knew that would slow me down a bit, but I still felt confident that I'd have a good race, and stand a good shot of beating last year's 31:48. But when I went for a warmup jog, I was alarmed to feel some stiffness in my right ankle! I was very upset by this because, after a bad week of running due to pain in that ankle, yesterday's run had been entirely pain free! I held myself to about a 10 minute pace for a short warmup jog, and concentrated on keeping my weight forward a little bit. This combination seemed to alleviate the mild discomfort in my ankle, so I immediately revised my goal for today: I planned to run by feel, hoping just to have a solid race at that pace which I felt I could maintain without exacerbating my ankle issues.

This was actually the first race in some time that I was going to run entirely by feel, as I did not have my Garmin with me. Not by choice: the charging cradle chose yesterday to malfunction, and so I wasn't able to charge the Garmin's battery, which had drained itself on yesterday's run.

It turned out to be kind of an interesting experience, running without knowing how fast I was going. I used to have a pretty good idea of what a 10 minute pace felt like, or 9 or 8 or even 7. Basically it was based on my perception that an 8-minute mile was painful, and difficult to sustain for more than 1 or 2 miles; that anything faster was borderline excruciating; that 9 was what my coach refers to as "comfortably hard;" and that 10 was relaxed and easy. However, as I've improved over the last year and gotten stronger, my perceptions have shifted. Now an 8 minute mile is a pace I can easily sustain for a 5k, although it's still an effort to hold that for a 10k. A 9-minute mile, which is what I'm going to have to run at Chicago in October, is now a pace I can sustain for much longer distances. But I haven't quite adjusted to the different feeling yet.

Here's what I'm talking about: I knew the first mile was going to be slow, and anticipated that the whole thing probably would be, due to the care I was taking with my ankle. Without my Garmin I had no way of knowing, but it felt like I was running about a 10-minute pace for the first mile. After that mile, the stiffness in my ankle went away, and I felt good enough to increase my pace, pushing to what felt like a 9-minute mile, a pace that I sustained for the rest of the race. But, instead of crossing the finish at about 37 minutes, I was closer to 35:15! Turns out, if I'm right about the first mile taking 10 minutes, I ran closer to 8:30 for the rest of the race. It wasn't a PR, but a very satisfying race, especially given how fatigued I still was today after yesterday's long run.

My younger sister was there, too, running her first 4-mile race. I talked her into it after she finished the Bolder BOULDER last year: "It's 2.2 miles less than what you just did! Piece of cake!" I also saw Susan B and Bill McD from Runner's Edge, who also ran the race, as well as Bret S who was there taking pictures after his own 16 mile run that morning. Smart guy, that Bret, avoiding yesterday's heat!

Official Time: 35:18
YTD Race Miles: 103
YTD Total Miles: 599
Thanks, Bret: The pictures look great as always!