Analyzing the race afterwards, I knew that I hadn't put out an effort anywhere close to what I was trained for. Physically I had a lot more to give, but mentally I knew I had completely forgotten what it takes to push through pain and adversity in a race. It's really not that hard in training. Typically you're only training one sport at a time, and it's not that hard to keep running till the end of the prescribed time or pedaling through the last interval because you know you be done after, or get a break before, going hard again. There are no breaks in racing, and I seemed to have forgotten how to handle that.
Realizing this, coupled with the fact that I was forced to make a dramatic change to my season's race plans and pull out of IMMT due to some family issues, I decided that the rest of my season will be shorter events where I can focus on going hard all the time and re-learning how to push through the pain that is racing. I'll be doing a few road triathlons, a couple Xterra races, and mixing in some road and trail running races as well.
Which brings me back to the Leadville 10k. A 10k at 10k+ feet of elevation sounded exactly like the kind of race where there would be some guaranteed suffering. The course is an out and back, with the first 3.1 miles dropping down roughly 400 ft in elevation down to the turnaround then reversing course back up to the finish line. It wasn't a straight drop, but it had several rollers and one longer climb about a quarter mile into the race.
I ran down from the start line and up the climb in the pic above for a warm up and knew the race was going to hurt like hell when an easy jog up the incline was already making me feel like I was in oxygen debt.
Standing at the start line was a wonderful feeling. It's been far too long since I've competed, and even though I didn't have any expectations of placing, I couldn't wait to run hard with zero worry about the injuries of the past year. With the first section downhill, it was a fast start. I settled in by the time we hit the first climb but ignored the watch since I didn't want to know what pace I was running. It's probably not a good sign, though, when you're a quarter mile into the race and your lungs feel like they are going to explode and you're trying make your breathing sound more normal so no one around you thinks you are getting ready to die. To make me feel even better I was passed by a tall blonde on the first hill who was carrying on an easy conversation about the weather with another runner as they cruised past. The first mile flew by pretty quickly at a 6 min pace as the front of the race started to stretch out. About 1.5 miles in I heard footsteps behind me and a man and another woman started to pass me. I'm in nowhere even decent running shape and haven't run a 6 min mile in well over a year but I had to see if I could go with them -- even more so because they were both at least 50. So 50 isn't close to being an age where you start to slow down, but I couldn't let myself be blown off the road again. At least they were breathing hard.
I hung in with them for another half mile before I started to let a bit of doubt creep into my head that I couldn't keep holding 6 min miles and be able to run the last half without completely blowing up. Doubt is the biggest enemy in racing and something I've got to learn again how to block out. So I got dropped by the 50-year-olds. I looked them up post race and apparently they are pretty legit. I still got my ass kicked my someone almost twice my age though, which is awesome.
They both killed me and she ended up beating him by a few seconds and almost catching the lead female who had passed me earlier.
The next couple miles went by at a fairly hard pace but not all-out like I should have been. Passed a few people and was passed by a few more. At about mile 4.5 I was faced with my second chance at not losing an in-race battle. I had completely failed at beating up on the 50+ year olds so when that fails the next logical choice is...
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Children!
With all his Newton gear, he's obviously an 11-year-old sponsored superstar, so I shouldn't feel bad about the fact it took me 4.5 miles to even get him in sight. Angie saw him warming up before the race and in typical supportive fashion noted that he was most likely going to beat me.
I was gaining on him, but slowly, and it probably took me another quarter mile to get close enough to pass. Passes need to be decisive to make the other athlete think there is no way they can go with you so I went hard by and heard the footsteps start to fade back....and then start catching up. Shit. Why isn't he dropping back? I'm going to get re-passed by an 11 year old. So much for blowing him away. He ran back up next to me and pulled around in front. At this point I'm faced with two options: a) stop and walk; We're about a mile from the finish and there are cameras at the finish, including Angie's, and there is no way in hell I can allow the possibility of losing a sprint battle at the finish with this wunderkind to be caught on film, or b) run harder.
I seriously contemplated "a" for about 5 seconds before ramping up the turnover and passing again. For at least a minute the footsteps stayed right with me while I considered the fact that pictures of me barely beating this kid weren't much better then pictures of me losing. Fortunately the sounds behind me slowly faded away, and I could bask in the knowledge that even if I can't outrun old people, I'm still better than the 8-13 age group.
I managed to hold off one more late charge at the line by another runner to finish is the top 30 overall. It hurt but it was racing again, and I wouldn't have wanted to be doing anything else. I've got to remember to block out the doubt next time and stop thinking so much, but this was a good start back. This weekend it's up to Steamboat Springs for the olympic distance state championship triathlon. Been a long time since I've had a crack at this distance as well, so looking forward to 2+ hours of racing hard.
Last half mile.
Finally a downhill.
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