Cold, windy, driving rain and gnashing teeth greeted us at Davis Saturday afternoon the day before the 2008 Stampede half marathon. “I hope it’s not like this tomorrow”, was the mantra repeated endlessly by TTE group during dinner. Hearty we were - the consensus was unless there were severe conditions tomorrow we would run regardless and hope for the best. I fell asleep that night to the sound of rain on the window.
Sunday was one of those beautiful post storm mornings where the air was fresh and the rising sun brilliant against the morning sky. What a great day to run!
Several of us met near the start line 15 minutes before the race to talk weather and wish each other luck. Scott, Jen, John, Layne, Cris and I stretched and pranced nervously while coach Dave, Amy and Phil (he’s still convalescing from the flu), provided the moral support and encouragement.
My plan was to break 1:40 – not a terribly lofty goal since last year’s time was 1:41 but what the heck, it’s better to achieve attainable goals that set them too high and fail. The gun went off and the chips started chirping (what a wonderful device they are) as runners dashed and jockeyed for positions and pace. 1 hour 40 minutes translates to 7:40 miles so hitting mile 1 at 7:15 did cause some concern but not panic, I was feeling very relaxed and well within myself. I also acknowledged this could translate to banked time and as all of us know it’s easier to slow down and recover than to try and chase the clock later in the race.
Davis is a very flat course – the freeway over-crossing being the only real elevation change throughout the race – but it does include a number of turns and two open sections that provide the discerning runner an opportunity for bonus points. Bonus points are occasions where being alert can pay off big dividends in terms of total time or energy savings. The corners beg to be cut and tangents taken advantage of. I’ve never understood why runners will follow an outside line through a corner when yards can be saved by running the tangent. Also, there was a significant headwind from the southwest that a runner could avoid by tucking in behind an available wide-body then waiting out the headwind. So I did those things. A young lady and I echeloned this good natured fellow for over a mile while the course headed west along interstate 80. I literally watched this guy crumble from effort pulling us into the wind before he stepped aside for a break. We thanked him for his effort but didn’t see him again until the finish.
All the while my pace had slowed some and settled at 7:30 per mile - still okay for my goal of sub 1:40. Mile 10 was 1:15 straight up making the math pretty easy - all I had to do was maintain that pace for another 3 miles for 1:38.
The 12 mile sign was a welcome sight and the beginning of “the sprint” (which was really a dramatic increase in respiration and heart rate with a mild increase in speed). But it felt good to know I was almost there and doing my best to quicken the time. I also realized my goal pace was reached (and then some) and that I had completed the race without embarrassing myself by falling or crashing into a traffic bollard or soiling my pants (I am 60 years old) or getting lost or forgetting which race I was in or…the list goes on…
So success was mine, first in the age group, a better than goal pace and didn’t lose any of the belongings I’d come with.
Sunday was one of those beautiful post storm mornings where the air was fresh and the rising sun brilliant against the morning sky. What a great day to run!
Several of us met near the start line 15 minutes before the race to talk weather and wish each other luck. Scott, Jen, John, Layne, Cris and I stretched and pranced nervously while coach Dave, Amy and Phil (he’s still convalescing from the flu), provided the moral support and encouragement.
My plan was to break 1:40 – not a terribly lofty goal since last year’s time was 1:41 but what the heck, it’s better to achieve attainable goals that set them too high and fail. The gun went off and the chips started chirping (what a wonderful device they are) as runners dashed and jockeyed for positions and pace. 1 hour 40 minutes translates to 7:40 miles so hitting mile 1 at 7:15 did cause some concern but not panic, I was feeling very relaxed and well within myself. I also acknowledged this could translate to banked time and as all of us know it’s easier to slow down and recover than to try and chase the clock later in the race.
Davis is a very flat course – the freeway over-crossing being the only real elevation change throughout the race – but it does include a number of turns and two open sections that provide the discerning runner an opportunity for bonus points. Bonus points are occasions where being alert can pay off big dividends in terms of total time or energy savings. The corners beg to be cut and tangents taken advantage of. I’ve never understood why runners will follow an outside line through a corner when yards can be saved by running the tangent. Also, there was a significant headwind from the southwest that a runner could avoid by tucking in behind an available wide-body then waiting out the headwind. So I did those things. A young lady and I echeloned this good natured fellow for over a mile while the course headed west along interstate 80. I literally watched this guy crumble from effort pulling us into the wind before he stepped aside for a break. We thanked him for his effort but didn’t see him again until the finish.
All the while my pace had slowed some and settled at 7:30 per mile - still okay for my goal of sub 1:40. Mile 10 was 1:15 straight up making the math pretty easy - all I had to do was maintain that pace for another 3 miles for 1:38.
The 12 mile sign was a welcome sight and the beginning of “the sprint” (which was really a dramatic increase in respiration and heart rate with a mild increase in speed). But it felt good to know I was almost there and doing my best to quicken the time. I also realized my goal pace was reached (and then some) and that I had completed the race without embarrassing myself by falling or crashing into a traffic bollard or soiling my pants (I am 60 years old) or getting lost or forgetting which race I was in or…the list goes on…
So success was mine, first in the age group, a better than goal pace and didn’t lose any of the belongings I’d come with.
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