Ups and Down

I ran the second running of the Rock and Roll San Jose half-marathon. So far I've run 'em all, but I guess that won't be semi-impressive for another 8 years or so. I met up with a friend of mine, who was going to be "just glad to finish before the walkers." He finished with a 1:54 last year on his first attempt, so I knew better. Somewhere in the same corral was a former running partner of mine (we used to run during work, until I quit that place), who was thinking last week about getting bumped back in a couple of corrals, because he was discouraged by recent training runs.

Me, I felt great. I've never felt so prepared for a race. I've been running my training runs fast (7:30-7:45 pace for 4.5 miles), my last long run was the weekend before (17 miles, since I've got a full marathon coming up), and my legs feel great. I started taking potassium and magnesium pills once a day, and I swear they're making recovery significantly faster. The day after runs, I might feel sore, but I feel like I can always run. I'm eager to see if I can break out of my 1:50 rut (my last three half finishes have all been in the 1:50 minute), or beat my PR (1:48:50), or even meet my goal of 1:45, which has been my goal since my very first half. This would be my sixth attempt, and I mentioned it to one of my current coworker running partner, who wondered why I didn't try for 1:3something. We're a group of macho, competitive name callers, and some times that's the kind of encourangement we need.

The weather was perfect. 8am start time, and the weather was cool, but not chilly. The 1:45 pace sign is in the corral ahead of me. Mr. Finish Before the Walkers and I talked about starting pace, and I said I was thinking of 7:45. He said something about 8:45, and commented about maybe we can run a bit at the start. I step on the start mat, and take off. I pass the 1:45 pacer after about 2 minutes, and I'm feeling good at a 7:40 pace. The bands are low-key at the beginning, and pretty decent. I'm battling mentally with pushing the pace, and keeping proper restraints so I don't crash. Well, "the pushing the pace" side must have won out, as I hit the 5k mat at 23:25. That's too early to tell anything, but when I hit the 10k at 46:51, I decided to 1:3something is well within grasp. The bands get louder, but not necessarily better. After the half-way point, I start to slow down, and have to mentally push myself. It's not that I'm fatigued, I just settle into a slower pace.

My imaginary push of a sub 7-minute pace doesn't happen with 3 miles left to go. Or 2 miles left to go, when it becomes evident that a sub 1:40 is well within grasp. But I do blow through the last .1 at sub-6, though. I cross the finish, before the clock hits 1:39, with a chip time of 1:37:53!

I watch the runners cross, watching the clock, thinking about how many of them beat my last year's time. Mr Ex-Co-Worker comes in 1:48, and I somehow miss Mr. Finish Before the Walkers crossing over at 1:49 (but we meet up later). That's three PRs all round, and everyone is feeling great. Mr Ex-Co-Worker was thinking of hanging up this running thing, but is suddenly inspired.

I head home on my motorcycle, and decide to enjoy the weather and the day taking a little canyon road that I love. I think about the rain from last week, and try and remind myself that patches may be gravelly from it all. But I put it out of my mind, and decide to push the pace. I round a corner, and it's one big patch of gravel. I instantly go down, grinding/shattering the left controls, and my clutch cover. A car and two motorcycles pass me before one stops to help me get my bike upright, and in functional order to get home. My arms are bruised up, but my legs are fine, at least. A really frustrating way to bring down the runner's high.

Turns out, sometimes you got to listen to that voice in your head when it tells you to slow down after all.