After a very easy 3 miles Friday, I was looking forward to finally running a race again.
-Is it wise to run a race a mere 2.5 weeks after being cleared to run again? Probably not.
-Is it smart to run an all out 5K when my weekly mileage going into the race was 4, 4, and 17? Definitely not.
-Was it realistic to try and run with the leaders from the get go after having not done a lick of speedwork for over 7 weeks? Hell no.
It's a good thing I make my own rules. The Fiesta 5K is a local race that starts and ends at Powerplant Live in downtown Baltimore. The race is actually for a charity that raises money for ALS research. A good friend of mine had quite a large team put together of about 60 people that had raised nearly $12000. Even the race fee goes to the charity and counts towards the total. Normally, I'm extremely anal about race registration, race preparation, and race attire and would not sign up for something like this.
However, I threw all that out the window for this just because of how important this was to my friend. His father, who was a sub-2:40 marathoner in his heyday, has ALS. There was really no way I could pass up running under their banner, even if it did mean wearing a cotton T-shirt that was too long, that almost covered my short running shorts.
Furthermore, I was out somewhat later than usual Friday and had a few beers. It doesn't get more out of routine than this! Regardless, the weather in the morning was perfect. It was about 50 degrees with no wind. It was cool in the shade and comfortable in the sun.
I lined up front of a very crowded start area. The race was chip timed, so it certainly was not a small time event. I didn't really care if I belonged at the front or not, I knew at the very least no one would be running over me for the first mile. After the gun went off, I darted out quick but controlled. I immediately identified the only runner in the pack of 7 that was for real and just waited for all the little girls, college guys that thought they were hot shit, and other dudes claiming they could run 5 minute miles to all drop off before the 0.25 mile mark. Clearly, my sixth running sense is still right on!
I ran alongside "guy in green" and he mentioned he wanted to go sub-17 and asked me what pace we were running. Of course, I had no freaking clue. This was the first time I was running hard since March 13th, and kind of blurted that fact to him. After running a few more strides side by side, I encouraged him to push harder and not hang around with me. He listened, and I was quickly alone with runners hot on my heels.
We ran towards the water, cutting through Harbor East and eventually ran down Aliceanna street towards Canton. I got passed by a pack of 4 runners on that street. I was feeling somewhat sick and my body clearly was not used to running this fast so I initially just let them go. As we approached Boston Street, I just did my best to keep the group of 4 in contact. After a short stint on Boston St, we turned around and ran up to Fleet Street to circle back to Power Plant Live. I had not seen any mile markers, but knew for the most part that I was running a decent pace.
Then, something strange happened. The pack of 4 ahead of me was starting to string out, with the leader of the pack going after the overall leader, "guy in green" that I let go early on. I knew 1st was out of the question, there was not enough time left and I felt way too crappy. However, the other 3 runners in front of me weren't increasing their lead on me, and I didn't feel any worse than I did towards the beginning of the race. I was expecting my chest to be burning badly at this point, as it usually did when I was really out of shape. However, it was fine, and if it wasn't for the fact that I felt like puking, I probably could have been running faster.
So the following thought went through my mind: "I don't finish fucking 6th at local 5Ks, I place overall. I am not going to place outside 3rd." With that thought I picked it up, not dramatically, but enough. I passed the first two runners with ease, but had to battle with the final runner for third.
After running the straight shot down Fleet, we turned onto President. The other runner was hot on my heels. In fact he clipped me once or twice (by accident) so I knew it was close. The leaders were still visible but too far off. Based on my watch, it looked like I'd actually be able to break 17 if I held on. As we turned again onto Lombard street for the final stretch, part of me wanted to give in and just let that other runner pass me and kind of dog it to the finish. I was thinking that this had already gone so much better than expected, that sub 17 and 3rd vs over 17 and 4th didn't matter much in the grand scheme of things.
However, another voice, a voice of reason wouldn't have that. It told me, you are breaking 17 and you are finishing 3rd. There was no other option. It's those little moments in a race that define a person. Truthfully, it made no difference, but I wasn't going to settle for less. So I threw down what little surge I had left, put space between me and that other runner, and comfortably beat him by 3 seconds. I crossed in 16:53, and proceeded to puke on myself.
In the past, I was actually quite ashamed after puking, and almost never ran well when that happened. This time though, I was fired up. After one very fluid vomit motion, I just kept walking and spitting, taking it all in and feeling rather awesome.
With so much time off, I had just matched the times I was running early in the year, and truthfully have not lost a whole lot. Speed is the first thing to go, so if I'm only 30 seconds or so off my PR which was on a fast course, than I clearly have not lost a whole lot of anything.
Most importantly, standing in the power plant live area in my Brooks T6s back on March 13th after a 5K eventually resulted in excruciating pain in my leg. This time, even after a couple of hours, there is absolutely no pain at all, and I'm not lying either! This is probably the best news I've had in almost 2 months, and now I'm eager (but still patient) to get back to the shape I was in when I ran that 1:16 half marathon.
Time to take back what's mine!
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