I see that it has been three weeks since my last blog entry, probably enough time to lose most of my readership.
It has been an interesting three weeks for me as far as running goes: I got a chance to run with Noah and Dave during their Spring Break (two weeks ago), raced a half-marathon (March 18), and then this Saturday, ran my final indoor race of the season, a mile at the USATF Masters Indoor Championships, held at our own Reggie Lewis Center.
Racing the half-marathon made sense, given my training over the last three months. this winter I chose not to focus on indoor track at all, but instead put most of my effort into building a mileage base. From December through early February, I ran between 60 and 70 miles a week every week, with a token track workout once a week to try to preserve some leg turnover. Like everyone else, I got sick in February, and struggled through a couple of weeks with very low mileage, then ran a 5K on the track (16:25), and three good weeks of training later, ran 1:16:49 for the half marathon in New Bedford, my best time in years.
So why ruin it all by trying to run a mile, a relative sprint, only six days after a long hard effort in a half marathon? Well, I suppose it was an experiment to see just how much speed I had lost by skipping fast workouts. But the real reason is that the national meet is a lot of fun, and seems like an appropriate way to say a final farewell to the indoor season and to the Reggie lewis track for another year.
I believe that the USATF Masters Indoor Championships is the last indoor meet held anywhere in the world. Everyone else has gone out of doors by now. the HS outdoor season is a week old already, with teams shoveling snow off their outdoor tracks to clear a lane for doing intervals. It has been two weeks since the NSIC meeet, four weeks since the Mass. State meet, and six weeks since the Bay State league championships. In celestial terms, we are past the equinox and hurtling headlong toward the solstice. Daylight savings time is in effect and the sun sets after 7:00 p.m. I guess the point I am trying to make, is that it is high time we all went out of doors and got a little fresh air.
Alright, but one more race on the boards -- just for old time's sake. So, leg-weary and feeling like a plodder, I found myself warming up for the mile at the national meet.
The first time I ever ran at this meet, as a 40-year-old, I learned an important lesson: the bigger the meet, the less "time" matters. At these championships, everyone runs for place. It's a funny thing, but I had to turn forty to experience a true "tactical" race, where no one takes the lead and the early laps go by at pedestrian speeds, leading to violent bursts of lead in the later laps. It was an important lesson.
Five years later, in 2003, as a newly-minted 45-year-old, I applied the lesson, and managed to win the mile. That race, too, went out very slowly, but i had learned enough so that I didn't help out the kickers by leading them through the early laps. Instead, I waited with everyone else through a slow first half, and just as all the really fast finishers were dozing, I took off with four laps to go and immediately opened up a gap of fifteen meters. The kickers never knew what hit them. once in the lead, I never slowed down and no one ever got close to me. I ended up running 4:33, running splits of 70, 71, 66, 65. It was one of the most enjoyable races of my life.
On Saturday, I had no expectations of running sub 4:40. I also had no expectations of being anywhere close to the lead, since there were two runners entered who had recent times of 4:29 and 4:32 to their credit. I figured they might as well be in a different race, but after that, the field wasn't too strong, so I hoped to be in contention for 3rd, if all went well.
But nothing is ever certain with old guys. The two really fast entrants -- one from New York, one from California -- didn't show up, and the another guy with a seed time of 4:40 had dropped out of the 3000 the night before and was no where to be seen for the mile. So when the gun went off, there was no one setting the pace.
I felt like I was jogging as we passed the 400 in 73 seconds. And it got slower, as everyone bunched up and no one wanted the lead. Through the 600, I focused on not getting tripped from behind, and I moved onto the outside shoulder of the leader. I stayed there through another lap, knowing how this race was going to unfold. I knew that if it was up to me, we were for damn sure not going to come down to a last lap sprint with everyone going by me. As we approached the 800 mark (2:29 - !), I looked at all that open blue track in front of me and I took off.
The immediate effect of my acceleration was a pleasant feeling of release. I was no longer worried that someone would step on my heel or trip me from behind. I listened for the sounds of pursuit and also to the announcer to try to gauge who was doing what behind me. From what I could tell, I had strung out the rather large pack and no there were three guys chasing me. I knew all of them. I knew that Bob collins would be very hard to shake. I knew that Derrick Staley was an 800 runner and had a nasty kick, if I couldn't run it out of him. I knew that Ted Poulus had run a hard 3000 the night before. I felt great.
After a 73 and a 76, I ran my 3rd quarter in 70 (3:39), and I still had plenty left. This was not a great field, and I didn't think too many people would be able to handle another fast quarter and still manage any kind of kick. I pushed the pace again. With a lap to go, Collins was still right behind and didn't seem perturbed by the pace. The rest of the pack had fallen back. Now into the final lap, I wondered if I could shake Bob, even as I prepared to see him come up on my outside. On the back straight, he made his move and went by. I accelerated but couldn't match him. Around the final turn I looked for a last little bit of speed but it wasn't enough. he crossed the line first in 4:46.9, with me second 4:47.6. The times were so slow! But I had run my last quarter in 68, my last half in 2:18. Another tactical race at Nationals, and an unexpected 2nd place.
So that's it. the end of the indoor season. Time to get back on the roads and forget about the tight turns of Reggie for another year. The next time I race here, I'll be 50, running against a new group of guys. I don't know how the race will go -- fast from the gun or tactical again -- but I'll be looking forward to it.
Now it's time to get some fresh air.