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