If you really race a 5k, there is no happy place. Simply put, the run is all about pain! At such a relatively short race distance, you rev your engine up into redline territory and hold it there. You have to come up with some kind of mental trick to justify the lung searing, back aching, hamstring straining pace you're maintaining for a short, but still relatively asinine, amount of time. In other words, if I were to hurt in the marathon as bad as I hurt in a 5k race, I would probably stop for a walk break (i.e., how did I get out of my happy place, time for a break!). Though 5ks are more common and easier to train for than the long races, a race that you run with purpose, regardless of the distance, is quite an accomplishment; my hat is off to the finishers.
Running this morning were V, James, Leon and I, with Crystal subbing in for Rachel as the flu that knocked Eugene out of the run settled upon her on Friday. As has happened before with this race, the start was delayed by 10 minutes; a previous year brought a delay because of poor race morning management, this time, it was a nasty wreck of US-59 that made the crowd slow arriving. So as 8:10 showed on every one's timing devices, we sallied forth in 47 or so degree weather and an overcast sky.
Pre-race, James stated that he wanted to break 25 minutes, but thought he could break 24. We headed out with Leon in tow and I cut a path through the crowd for about a half a mile or so, then James left me. Other than some guy with the most wicked mullet I've ever seen, it was fairly uneventful. My times were:
- Mile 1 - 8:38
- Mile 2 - 8:03
- Mile 3 - 7:58
- Last 0.1 - 0:47
- Total Time - 25:26
I was disappointed with my first mile's speed, as that pretty much sank any chance of breaking 25 minutes. I'll have to chalk that failure up to not running fast much anymore; I guess I just overestimated my speed. I'll take it though, as it's still well under the old barrier of 25:50, a PR that I thought I might never break.
Then the Rocket's Run let us down a bit. The after party was outside (as was advertised, but what if it had been raining?) and, get ready for it, there was no beer!!! This run is known for it's pizza and beer post race, and though the pizza pies were flying, the taps were dry. As someone pointed out, it was a Sunday morning, and that means no beer service until noon, so I suppose the day of the event may have forced their hand.
Tonight was where the race becomes a bargain at $25 entry fee; you get a ticket to the Rocket's game. Best of all, it was a good game as the Utah Jazz came to town. As has become habit, the Rocket's lost, but at least the race organizers picked a weekend with a good game; it actually turned into a rare Rocket's sale-out!
Then Leon almost died. Yep. I figure there are a lot of times you almost die and don't know it, but this time it was evident. We were driving out of downtown, last light before reaching Allen Parkway. As I'm entering the intersection, I look over my left shoulder to clear the way for a lane change as I knew the lane I was in was ending. When I look forward after the lane check, there's an SUV just BLAZIN' through the intersection, about ten feet in front of my car. Half a second later, and Leon would have been on the hospital side; one second later, it probably would have been the death side. The "almost accident" is somewhat my fault, as I should have waited until after clearing the intersection to check for the lane change. However, given how late the guy entered the intersection, I'm not sure I could have done more than I what I did; just stare as he flew by. Don't run red lights, especially in downtown, and don't assume the intersection is clear just because it's green.
By the way, SW won the race. If you stay up to date on your Houston running blogs, I'm sure you'll hear about that soon!
Check those intersections, and take care.
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