Race Report Part II

In my mind the first third (14K) should be easy, “The Float”. I posted my splits below and you can see clearly I wasn’t floating but sinking with a long long long way to go. With 30K left, I was searching for my “sustainable pace”. So I started cruising under 5min/K’s for awhile with hope that I’d pick it up soon. I knew 3:10 wasn’t going to happen but sub 3:20, which was my B goal, was still possible.

I find reassessing goals during a race challenging. I also find it hard not to over analyse everything. I had to convince myself that I had not started too fast, was I pushing myself to the right intensity? I even compared previous race splits, long after the finish, to satisfy myself, I hadn’t used the wrong tactics. Why was my race speed slower than in training? Had I overtrained? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Around 15K Keith running a sub 3:20 came by. He asked how my leg was and I could feel pain but didn’t think it was having a major impact. Also about this time started the 7K of hills. Calfs and hills don’t mix. Å little before halfway, I was done, and my race for a goal time was over. In the post game show you can draw a big circle around the hills starting around 16K through to about 23K and see that this finished me off. I stopped analysing race plans, finish times and decided on new goals. For 10 to 15 minutes or so I decided to just run and look around in an attempt to settle into a pleasant Sunday afternoon jog. I even thought to wait for Katy and run the rest with her. My parents were along the route and I saw them for the first time and gave them a wave.

Just after 27K I stopped to walk a bit. I couldn’t run anymore. I never did “run” after that. Stagger, plod, shuffle but not “run”. 27K is not even the distance of what I do most Saturdays. It was earth shattering and I was sad.

I was ready to find an ambulance to take me to the end. I would have sat and waited on the side of the road for Katy right there, but I didn’t think I could keep up with her when she came along.

I have never “not finished”. As the fat lady started to warm up her vocal chords I stood up and stared her straight in the eye and said “Sit down bitch, I’m not done yet”. What I did was picked out 38K as my goal. Rationalising that if I got to 38K, I would finish. All I had to do was get to 30K cause then I would only have 8k to get to 38K. I am not suggesting any of this makes sense, but it did to me at the time. So I slogged it out, in very short steps, which was the full extension I thought I had without a final snap of my calf. There were times when sharp pains shot through it, but it held firm. I saw my parents on the side of the road again around 31K and gave them more of a grimace than a smile, but was glad to see them. At 35K I had 3k to make it to the 38K. I had endured 5K and set on just to keep moving for another 3.

38K came and I felt relieved. I pushed harder over the final K’s and was glad to see a guy with his daughter doing some weird cheer leading, flicking his pom poms around at random. I recognised him as Wobbly and said hello. Thanks.

Onward to the finish line I ran knowing that soon the pain would be gone. This one thought got me there. I went straight through the finish race and sat on the ground in the sun not sure if I would stand again. I was fascinated to watch my calf convulse, as if there was something in there trying to get out. Small movements stimulated some cramping, so I didn’t move. After half an hour, Katy came through, “skippy, skippy, skippy”