Sunday, December 2nd, 2012

Mill Cities Relay.
Sometimes there is little or no tangible explanation for something going right, and this would be a perfect example of that.
I went in to this thing with the hope of merely surviving in one piece (i.e. not pulling anything and wrecking myself for the winter.)
Little did I know that my body was actually looking to pound out my ailments, both physical and mental.
I arrived early (@ 8:20, looking for a 9:13-ish handoff) and ran into Pat Moulton and Martin Tighe, always a good way to start any running day. Ben Ndaya walked up and soon after, Pat, Ben and I went for an easy 20 minute warmup.
My leg felt fine and though the terrain was slick with slush, as the temps were @ 32 degrees, I was feeling like this might be an OK day.

I got my bib from Paul Doe a few minutes before the handoff from Kenny Warren, got the baton and was out, running a little conservatively as I negotiated the icy bends and turns coming out of the exchange area.
The first mile was quite controlled and I hit the mark in 5:35, which, given the conditions, I was OK with, though I still wanted to at the very least go under 5:30's as long as I could.
It had been a while since I'd been in a distance race (and I don't include the marathon, as that's not racing so much as running at a controlled pace for way too fucking long,) so I was trying to figure out what effort felt most like a 10 miler. I dialed it in pretty good and thought I might see a 5:30 or 5:28 for mile 2.
5:21.
Ok, I like the looks of that, but what if I'm kidding myself? I've had crap training coming into this and I've been a combination basketcase/zombie as far as how I perceive and approach my training and running for the last 2 months. All of this apparently aside, I hit mile 3 with a  5:22. Alright, I suppose it's on.

I passed Ephraim (running well for our Seniors team, who won as well) around this point and as I was going by him, the footsteps I'd heard coming went by me, coming from the speedy feet of Pat, who made my pace look like a stroll as over the next two miles, he must have gone right to straight 5:00's or better. He disappeared in the distance so quickly it's frightening.
Lap 4-8 went 5:25 (where I took a slight wrong turn,) 5:21, 5:21, 5:28, 5:24 and as mile 9 came on and I was feeling like this was close to my limit, I was still able to nail down a 5:25, which I held for the remaining .6. I finished with a 52:01 for 9.6, handed off to Paul Doe and felt no worse for the wear. Went for a quick cooldown and then gave Ben a ride back to his car, enjoying great company and conversation along the way.

The awards party at the Claddagh was epic. 269 teams and two floors of loudness to the point that I can't believe I still have my voice. I also found a new love of brick.
We won the Masters in both the Men's and Women's, the Seniors in both, and the Open got 2nd in both. Not a bad day at all.
The majority of the team was there and I learned that we won the Masters team title by a mere 42 seconds. The last guy from GCS, (who had a new Master named Ethan Crain running for them, who was beast in college and is again running like one on my leg and he was just ahead of me) apparently took a slight wrong turn as Paul Doe was closing on him. Paul alerted him to this, but he didn't immediately hear him. Nonetheless, Paul is as straight-up a guy as one could hope to meet and if he says he was closing on the guy to the point that he would have overtaken him regardless, I believe him. Plus, if you throw in my slight wrong turn way back, it's all a wash.

In the end, knowing that my job was to run the long leg and be the fastest guy on the team to try to put as much time in the bank as possible and that I did it is the most satisfying running-related feeling I've had in a long, long time and man, I needed that.
If I'd run 5:30's, we may have got beaten, but for whatever reason, I had one decent effort left in me before shutting things down for a bit.

Once again, it occurs to me that I love running with this team, for this team. I love running in New England, where I actually know and run with people I consider rock stars in this weird sport.
And I should never count myself out (unless of course it provides me with, seemingly paradoxically  the relaxation and the motivation to actually do well.)
Whatever it is, it leaves me with the perfect ending to a weird but ultimately good season and now I get to go into Boston training with a much, much clearer head.

M- 10
T- 0
W- 7
Th- 3.5
F- 6
Sa- 0
Su- 13

week- 39.5 miles