Bolder BOULDER 10k 2009

This has really been my year for PRs. I set a 10 mile PR in February, a 7k PR in March, a 5k PR in Colorado Springs last month, and shaved 15 1/2 minutes off my marathon PR at Oklahoma City. Going into the Bolder Boulder this year, I was confident that another PR was not only possible, it was extremely likely.

In the days leading up to today's race, I mentally prepared myself by reading and re-reading the "Go Zone Racing" article that Runner's Edge of the Rockies Coach David had emailed in early March, that had been so inspirational at Runnin' of the Green and in Colorado Springs. I also watched the Bolder Boulder course video, narrated by Frank Shorter, from the race website. Each time I watched it, I noted aloud how much time would pass for me to hit my splits. My intent was to finish the race in 50 minutes, so I'd have to average 5 minutes a kilometer, or 8 minutes a mile. No problem! I could feel my adrenaline surging every time I watched the video, and knew that if I could hold on to that feeling during the race, I'd be all set.

Last night, I couldn't sleep. That's usually kind of hit or miss for me: some pre-race nights I have no problem falling asleep, and others (like the night before the Disney World marathon) I'm up to all hours. Last night was one of those--it was nearly midnight before I fell asleep. When my alarm went off at 4 am, I almost went right back to bed! Fortunately, once I got moving, I was awake and ready. Besides, I got up to Boulder early enough that I was able to take about an hour-long nap (of sorts--I kind of drifted in and out) in my car.

When it was nearly time, I made my way towards the starting line, working in a one-mile warmup jog on the way. I reviewed my race strategy in my mind: run fast at the beginning, run fast in the middle, and run fast at the end. ("Why don't more people do that?" "'Cuz they're stupid.") As the start time for my wave inched closer, my adrenaline began to surge. I was strong, I was confident, I was ready. The D wave started out...then DA...DB...DC! It was Go Time! The shot was fired, and we were off! And then...

...tragedy struck! Fifteen feet out of the gate, someone trod on my left heel, forcing me to walk right out of that shoe! For a split second I toyed with the idea of kicking off my other shoe and just running in my socks; but the realization that my timing chip was on that shoe forced me to stop. I also briefly debated the idea of just going back to the starting line and going out with the DD wave; but discarded that idea when I concluded that my timing chip would not reset and I would thus lose precious minutes (really it's amazing how many scenarios played out in my mind in that instant). I grabbed my wayward footwear, shuffled off to the side, and hurriedly re-shod myself, tying the lace again as a precaution. Fortunately, the whole of my wave had run past me and I had a few precious seconds before the next wave started. I managed to get myself straightened out and picked up my running. Unfortunately, I was severely rattled by the experience--although it would be another two miles before I realized how much.

I pushed my pace for a while in an effort to make up my time. I had to reach the first kilometer mark in five minutes to make my split. I did so easily enough, and wound up covering the first mile in exactly eight minutes as well, according to my Garmin. The next three kilometers were also pretty much on pace, and I was still feeling confident that I would finish in my anticipated time. But shortly after that--about 2.5 miles into the race--I started to feel it. I'd pushed hard in the beginning to make up my lost time, and could feel myself starting to tire. Ignoring it, I pushed on, telling myself I'd give myself a brief break at the water stop at the end of the third mile (I hadn't originally planned on stopping at the water breaks, but was just going to run right through them).

After I reached the halfway point--5 kilometers in--my pace started to slip. I was feeling the effects of four hours of sleep the night before and the loss of my mental focus at the start. I ground my teeth and told myself to keep going, and began picking off points in the distance: run to that tree, now to that lamppost, now to that corner. But about halfway through the fourth mile, I slowed to a walk for about 800 feet. I knew it was a mistake--once you let yourself walk once (not counting aid stations), it's easier and easier to let yourself walk again and again. I knew this, but walked anyway.

I started running again before making the next turn, though. Then something interesting happened: I brushed against a female runner--very gently you understand--as I passed her. As I did so, she muttered, rather snidely I thought, "Geez, the whole road's wide open." Now, it was of course unintentional. It is a very crowded race, and I had bumped into, or been bumped by, other runners a handful of times already. And I might have let the matter slide and just kept running, but for whatever reason I chose to respond. Blame it on my lack of focus and frustration at letting my pace slip. "Yes," I said, "But you're over here. And I was going to chat you up for a bit; but now that I see you're a total bitch, I'm going to keep running." Now (gasp) granted (gasp), it loses (gasp) some of its (gasp) sting when (gasp) it comes out (gasp) like this (gasp), but I think she got the message.

I kept running, but by now my pace had definitely slipped and I was no longer going to come in under 50 minutes. I knew I was still in good time to set a new PR, but I was definitely hurting by this time. I gave myself another walk break of just over one tenth of a mile before I finished mile 5; and unfortunately, one more just after I finished it. But with a mile to go, I told myself I would have to keep running. I felt like I was going at a sub-8 minute pace, but in reality I covered the rest of mile 6 at about an 8:10 pace. When I turned the last corner, though, I pushed my pace as hard as I could to cover that last 0.2 miles.

My final time for the race was 51:42.78. So even though I didn't get the time I'd wanted, I still shaved almost 2 minutes off my 10k PR.

After I collected my snack bag, I connected with several members of Runner's Edge to compare notes, including Martha, Kelly, Angela, Ann, Tinka, Jen, Steve H, Stevie Mac, Bret, Carol, Michelle W, Holland, Sarah H, and MoMo. Then I made my way to the Expo area to see if I could find Olympic marathoner and Boston 3rd-place finisher Ryan Hall. I'd heard the announcer in the stadium say something about Ryan being somewhere to sign autographs, but hadn't paid much attention. Worse, everyone I asked in the stadium and field house had no idea what I was talking about. It wasn't until I got to the Expo area that I got my answer--from the giant photo of Ryan Hall at the Nissan tent! ("Oh, he must be over here!") I joined the line and was informed that Ryan would be over to sign autographs in a few moments, after a quick television interview.

So I got to meet Ryan Hall and get his autograph on my race bib. He asked me what my next race was, and I told him I will run the St George (Utah) marathon in October. "Nice!" he said. "Will that be your first marathon?" "No," I replied, "seventh." "That's more than I've done," he commented. "Yeah," I observed, "but I'm not nearly as fast as you." Then I shook his hand and got my picture taken with him. Good times, good times.

Official Time: 51:42.78
Total Races: 9
YTD Race Miles: 85.4
YTD Total Miles: 518.55
US Elite Marathoner Autographs To Date: 3