I'm fairly new to running, and just ran my first 13.1 mile race at the Horsetooth Half Marathon 2 weeks ago. It was an extremely hard and mountainous course (Is "Mountainous" a word?....Because it was at that race!), but I was still very upset with my time (2:13). I knew I could do better, so I entered several drawings last week in an attempt to gain entry into today's race, which had closed in December. I got lucky and won a sponsor's entry from Geico last Friday, so I was determined to make my sub 2 hour goal happen today.
To be fair, this is an easier course than Horsetooth, but it is still at altitude (5,200 ft) and I was still wondering about running another race this far so soon, so I tempered my enthusiasm. All in all, I was cautiously optimistic heading into the run.
This race is a point to point starting in the Poudre Canyon West of Fort Collins and ending at Old Town Square in downtown FC 13.1 miles away.
I started out along with 1,500 other runners and eased myself down the first 4 miles in 33 minutes. I felt great and kept banging away at roughly 8:45 miles along the river. I really did not know what to expect, and I thought that I'd hit a wall like I did 2 weeks ago around mile s 8-9, but I was able to maintain pace and ended up at the 12 mile marker in range of my goal. I did some calculations and realized that I had slowed a bit and would need a sub 9 minute last 1.1 miles to hit the goal. So I gave up.
What's that you say? Yes, I gave up. And I decided I was going to be happy with a 12 minute improvement from 2 weeks ago and cruise into the finish unharmed at 2:02. I knew I had fallen into the 9:30 range for the last couple miles and just did not think I could pick it up any faster. I was content to improve so drastically in a 2 week span, and I convinced myself that 2 hours was an arbitrary goal, I did not need it anymore, and I was going to enjoy the end of this run.
I'm not sure what happened next, but I basically had a wave of euphoria come over me and I decided that since I was within a couple minutes of my goal, I should go for it. So I just ran as fast as my 200 lb. 39 year old frame would take me. I passed one group, then 2 groups, then I saw Pete Stevenson, a fast local runner and the De Facto leader of the Fort Collins Trail Running Club at the last aid station. He was volunteering, and I had this random thought about how cool it was for runners as talented as Pete to be out supporting the race and it buoyed me to keep going. As fast as I could.
Rounding the 13 mile marker into the LONG finish chute, I looked at my watch and saw that I had just cranked out a sub 8 minute mile. So I ran that 12th mile at my stand alone 5k race pace! I felt like shit, but I kept kicking and crossed the line in 1:59:33 official time.
I was overjoyed at this development. My wife Kelly met me at the finish, and I think she was trying to take a picture, but I just showed her my watch and then I had to find a wall to lean on to catch my breath.
Post race I said hi to some local runners and ended up closing down the beer garden with Ken Banwart, 3rd OA masters runner, and a fast dude.
Not to get into hyperbole, but how many times in life can you get instant feedback and instant gratification from something so healthy and honest as running a race in a time you were not sure you could hit?
That's where I went today...to a fleeting, temporary, personal achievement bliss that nobody else much cares about...... But I'm as happy typing this as I have been about such a small thing in a long time.
Thanks for reading!
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