From
the Rage Archives
Truth
is found through devotion,
and intensity is the only true measure of devotion.
Subject:
Dream On
Date: 14 May 00 16
As
I warmed up for the 2000 Corporate Challenge (5k), I noticed
this year's field looked a little thin. Not only were there
fewer local companies participating, last year's men's and woman's
winners, Rick and Jill Mestler, who finished first and fourth
last year were not there. In 1999's race, Jill pulled away from
me in the last half mile as I faded badly. Thing is, what was
probably a so-so run for her was my PR. While she does not even
know who I am, she taught me a lot about how to run a 5k. I
was disappointed she was not there to show her what she taught
me last year. While I joked that he was probably ducking me,
Rick might have shown up if it was not for the fact he was running
the steeplechase at the Twilight Meet at Hayward Field later
the same day.
I remembered
I placed fifth overall last year, and thought that with less
competition, I might be able to do better today. However, there
were a few other runners I'd never seen before who looked strong.
There always is. Nevertheless, I thought T-Bone and I maybe
could snag a couple of top five spots for our team and pull
down some major team hardware. When you run like I do, top tens
are hard to come by and it usually means a lot of good runners
don't show up. I planned on running a "fast" first mile (for
me, anyway) and see what happened. When the race started, T-Bone
darted out with his usual, patented "jack rabbit start." He
tucked in right behind the strong runners I suspected might
be in the lead pack. As usual, I let them all go and focused
on getting into my own groove, while T-Bone pulled away with
the leaders. Gradually I moved up as I settled into a pace that
felt on my anaerobic threshold, and slowly crept by T-Bone into
fourth place. The leaders were running in tight group, already
about 20 seconds ahead of me three quarters of a mile into the
race. They looked like they were not even working at it. I glanced
at my watch when they went by the first mile check point in
about five flat. I reached it 26 seconds later. I knew it was
fast for me, but it felt good and I tried to convince myself
I could handle the pace.
I celebrated
the fact that I still had the lead pack within my view, which
was rare for me. However, it was not too far into mile two before
I had to face up to the reality that I could not hang on to
a 5:26 pace and the lead group continued to pull away. In fact,
while I knew I was slowing down, as I passed mile two, I was
disappointed in how much I had slowed down: 5:53. I tried to
shake myself out of my denial that my stride had broken down
into a short, choppy survival mode. "Enough of this," I thought
to myself. I am going to finish strong. I caught a nice gentle
downslope and used it to get my stride going again. Absent an
official mile marker, I estimated mile three at about 5:28 and
picked it up the last tenth mile to match my PR at 17:27, but
still a distant fourth place, with third at 16:11. T-Bone finished
just behind me for fifth. The winner ran 15:21.
Reality
is harsh sometimes. While we did what I thought we might be
able to do team wise, I was privately embarrassed for even thinking
that I might be able to run with those guys. They were very
good and there is no way I could run with them. Speaking of
good...I mean, great: That night, I took my nephew and son to
the Twilight Meet. Marla Runyon ran the second fastest time
in the world for the year at 15:07 for the 5,000 meters. The
last place finisher in the field was at 16:45, which would have
been finished before I got into the final turn with my time
earlier that day. I also watched Rick Mestler run a solo steeplechase
in a gutsy 8:58, after the two other competitors scratched.
To further remind me of where I stood, the middle school girls
winning time for the mile was 5:15. My son was trying to impress
my nephew about his dad's fourth place finish earlier in the
day. As I tried to explain how big of difference it is to run
73 second laps versus 84 second laps, he still kept coming back
to "but Dad, you got fourth place." I love that kid.
