Snowman Shuffle

First let me tell you, I ran my best race yet. They haven't posted results yet, so I don't know how I finished, but planned how I wanted to run it, stuck to my plan, and finished in the time I wanted and in the fashion I wanted. Here's a quick run down.

Weather: 25 degrees, windchill 15, clear and sunny.

I arrived 45 minutes before race time and checked in. Wouldn't you know it, I signed up for the three race Grand Prix at the first race and they failed to get me entered. As instructed I quickly filled out an entry blank and was handed my bib number and free pair of cotton running gloves. By now I'm cold. I'm wearing my running tights under my running pants, because Scotty and I decided a long time ago that a dude in tights only is not a pretty sight for anyone to see, a long sleeve compression T under a short sleeve technical shirt, my Mizuno windbreaker (a door prize from a local race, some day I'll spend the money for a vented running jacket), a knit cap, and the Mizuno running gloves I got this last Christmas. It takes all of 5 minutes outside to feel every layer permeated by the cold.

Back in my car I pin my bib number to my right thigh, place my gloves over the defroster vents and decide how long I'll wait before I get out again. Remembering that I had considered logging miles prior to the race to make up for no long run and being smart enough to recognize that the tightness in my hamstrings could be an issue on such a cold morning, I decide to exit the warm metal cocoon thirty minutes prior to race time and log two easy miles out and back along the first mile of the race course.

The race starts at the top of a large hill, descends sharply in the first quarter mile, then flattens out through the middle 21/2 miles before assaulting you with a steep hill climb between the 2.5 mile mark and the 3 mile mark, a plunge down the back side of this hill and then a steady quarter mile climb to the finish.

As I head out for my warm up miles I let gravity pull me down the first descent and recognize that with little effort I'm able to set a rather quick pace. As I run I notice that the out and back offshoot, added in order to turn the 4K loop into a 4 miler, is not flat, but rather a shallow descent to the turn around and it's rolling grade adds short descents to the return route, negating the felt impact of the return ascent. Memory reminds me that after this out and back comes a long flat portion between two of the parks hills before beginning the climb for which this popular running route is known for.

On my return mile I formulate the following plan. I'll use the initial plunge and following descent to keep my pace in the 7 minute mile pace range, hold that as long as I can, backing off just a bit through the flat portion of the course, conserving energy for the hill and hopefully positioning myself to be able to only fade a few spots as I hit what is for me the biggest obstacle.

At the start I recognized a former collegue and we chatted away the final three minutes before race time, not even hearing the start, alerted by the pack in front of us surging forward. I find myself positioned in with a slower group of runners than I anticipated (some day I'll learn to go to the front) and have to weave my way through traffic before finding a clear opening as I hit the initial descent. I come in under 7 minutes for my first and predominately downhill mile, fading a bit through the out and back, recording a 14:20 when my GPS indicates 2 miles. I'm feeling pretty strong and decide that instead of backing off a bit through the flat to conserve energy, I'll push it to the base of the hill and if the hill kills me, so be it.

The hill proves as daunting and torturous as I expected, but I manage to pass a couple of folks at the beginning of the incline and lose only a couple of spots to others half way up. Near the top my Garmin records 22 minutes at the 3 mile mark and though they protest my legs carry me across the flat top of the hill and I'm able to gain momentum, clinging to my hope of finishing in 30 minutes. Two runners, a female master (over 40) and a younger male pass me on the down hill, I don't care, "Run your race!", I tell myself. As I approach the last climb I glance at my wrist, just over two tenths to go, "Forget pace, maintain same effort, forget pace, maintain the same exertion level" becomes my mantra. Then it happens, I reel in and pass the two runners who passed me on the descent and then pick off one more.

As I rounded the last turn and strode the last few yards of the final incline I realized that as I reached the flat home stretch there would be no 40 yard kick to the finish. If a runner was closing, so be it, I had run my race, I would concede the spot. No challenge was mounted and I crossed the finish in 29:30, not puking, but close, ecstatic that I had not saved anything in the gas tank. Finally, I ran a race exactly as planned, and came away with a time I was happy with.