At the 8-mile mark of the race, I was feeling good. Even pace, legs strong. Then this short stocky guy burned past me like he was in a 100 meter sprint. And he just kept going!
I knew he'd burn out eventually, but I decided I'd chase him. Let him get a bit ahead and then go after him...
Sunday was the "First Half" Half-Marathon, so named as it's the first official Half-Marathon of the year in Vancouver. The morning started icy cold, at least by Vancouver standards. It was -3C so i decided to wear a thin long sleeved shirt. I usually hate running races in long sleeves or tights cuz it gets so damn hot. But this morning was damn cold. Nevertheless, I stuck to my shorts. Of course, the cold weather also gave me a great excuse to break out my brand new Boston Marathon jacket. I'd ordered it a few weeks back fearing they'd be sold out when I arrived. It came just last week and I haven't had many opportunities to wear it. Of course, a race event is the perfect place...as I could see from the number of jackets worn from previous Boston Marathons.
I arrived late for the race and had to scramble to fit in a short warm-up. Then off to the start. After a terrible rendition of the Canadian national anthem (at least it was heartfelt), the horn went and we took off.
I was aiming for something under 1:30. My PB in half marathons was 1:39 but I knew that wasn't a true indicator of my abilities. I'd run this course last year but wasn't at all ready for the race. I was tired, undertrained and a little sick. This year, I'm in the midst of my Boston training. So I felt I'd do well. In the back of my head, I'd decided on 1:25 as my goal. The logic being if i can hit 1:25, then I'd likely have a sub 3-hour marathon within grasp.
At the first mile I was running 6:34. Faster than I'd planned, but it got me away from some congestion. I slowed it back to a 6:47 pace and kept that consistent for the next 7 miles. It was easy locking on a pace as most of the course was very flat along Vancouver's sea wall. I quickly realized at this pace I'd never hit 1:25, but I felt solid and wanted to finish strong.
So at the 8-mile mark, the little running gnome burned past me. I took a mental picture and let him go. About 15 seconds later, another guy burns past me. A short black guy...It's always the short guys. At this point, I'd had enough. When I was running Victoria, I'd discovered the utter thrill of flying past people towards the finish. It was intoxicating to pass people without a single runner able to catch you. But having them run past you? Not so fun.
So that was it. I made my move and picked up the pace. I started passing runners. The short black guy was making good time, but i was patiently gaining on him. Eventually I pulled even for a very brief while, felt his look to me, then continued on...the stocky gnome now in my sights.
He took a bit longer to catch, but eventually he was staring at my back. And I carried on, locking on runners up ahead and quietly cruising past them. Man, it's a sweet feeling. The best is when you pull up along someone who absolutley does not want to let you run past them. They speed up and hold pace with you...side by side you run for several meters. I just stick to my plan. I don't speed up or slow down. I just keep running what i'm running. And then...at first so gradually...they start to slip off pace, unable to maintain the speed I've set. And then they suddenly drop away and I'm on to the next one.
I think those people are my favourites. They make me feel stronger. They're trying to keep with me but they just can't do it. I'd continue to the end of the race without a single runner passing me by.
I'd been running the last bit of the race at a comfortable 6:34 pace and cranked it a notch at the 12-mile mark. Now into the home stretch, I realized I'd run the entire race with an eye to my splits rather than my overall time. In fact, it was only coming up to mile 13 that I even started considering what my final time would be.
I'd decided at the start of the race that I wouldn't run with a pace band. I'd run according to how I felt, always pushing myself a bit faster than what was comfortable. And I couldn't complain about the results. I was rounding the final bend, the clock in view, trying to jettison everything left. I wasn't quite spent and i need to find a way to cross that line in pain, barely able to move at the end. I'm guessing I could have done a bit better. Nevertheless, i'm very happy with a new PB of 1:27:50.
A good indicator for Boston.
No comments:
Post a Comment