Race 4: Success and failure in Boalsburg

For those of you who slept in this morning, it wasn't raining when the sun and I got up. That started just as I got to the starting line in Boalsburg.

This is a big, crowded race: over 300 runners, and lots of spectators. I don't think I ever ran a race with spectators: that was weird.

The race started out fairly level. In order to hit my goal of 30:30, I needed to keep a pace of 7:38, which is really pushing it for me, especially for a course I didn't know. I'd heard the last half was mostly downhill, so I wanted to negative-split. I crossed the first mile marker in 7:45, which was just about where I wanted to be. Then the first big climb began.

The race ran up to the top of Main Street and then back down. I struggled a bit, but I made it, and turned around to see a vast sea of runners still climbing up. I settled into a good rhythm on the way down, and crossed the 2 mile maker at 8:05. So I knew I needed to get moving if I still wanted to make that goal. Then came Bailey Lane. This is a long, long hill that many had warned me about. In fact, someone had mentioned that it's a gradual climb, and then it has a steep bit right near the top. Apparently I forgot about this...

I started up the hill feeling pretty good. I had a good stride going, and I was tired but still strong. I pressed on and on, and soon I could see the turn-around for that road ahead of me. Then I hit the steep part. I totally lost it. I just could not get the air into my lungs. For the first time in my life, I had to walk for a part of a race. I walked about 20 steps, just long enough to get my lungs back, and started running again.

When I hit that turn-around, I knew it was all downhill from there. I had time to make up, so I started to quicken the pace. Just past the bottom of the hill was the 3-mile mark. Somehow, I'd covered that section in 8:06, despite the huge hill and my momentary muscle failure. I kept going, fatigue plaguing me, struggling to keep the wheels turning.

Just then a petite woman passed me, going at a good clip. I realized that she was doing everything right that I was not: she was standing up straight, shoulders up, and lifting her knees. That was just the reminder I needed to pull my form together, and close out strong. (I found her after the race and thanked her, BTW.) Suddenly I found myself passing people again, my strides getting longer and quicker. I turned the last corner and could see the finish. I heard someone coming up behind me. "No way," I thought, and found another gear. I heard him say to me "you got it," and he was right. In the last hundred yards I found still another gear, and passed a few more people.

I crossed the line in 29:53. I was in disbelief. I checked my watch: 6:05. Could I have really run that last mile in 6:05? Could I have really finished so far ahead of my goal? Soon enough, I had my answer. I finished in 101st place, 13th in my age group, in a field of over 320 runners. They had calculated my pace at 7:52. So the race was in fact shorter than four miles: it's more like 3.8 miles. Had I kept that pace for a full four miles, my final time would have been about 31:15. But then again I was accelerating at the finish, so who knows?

I do know that the fact that I finished so strong meant I was more than strong enough to run the entire thing. My failure to do that proves again that running is as much about mental toughness than about physical condition. I won't make that mistake again.

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