So I told Coach that I wanted a sub 23. Former PR was a 23:28. Not really all that great, and so I felt fairly confident that I'd be able to beat it. Keeping in mind that the race I ran that in was mostly all downhill, lol, albeit I was just coming back from the hell of the 2012 season where I did nothing for 9 months. So of course he puts 21:59 on my plan. Gotta love how he sets the bar high. I guess that's what coaches are for, right?
I got to the race site, to run my pre-race 45 minutes. It was freaking cold, below freezing, and windy. I was, not surprisingly, the first car in the parking lot, and even the race organizers were barely stirring. It was hard to get out there and start running, but I knew that within a mile, I would warm up. As I ran along part of the route, and saw the hills, I started to doubt my ability to do sub 23, never mind what MR had called for. Partway thru the warmup, I stopped to get my number, and found a bunch of my teammates. As I chatted away with them far longer than I should have, Coach came along and looked at me. "You should be running!" he said. And so off I went. This time I ran the actual route, and my confidence plummeted a little further.
Warmup done, I made my way back to the track where the race would start. Everyone else was wearing some serious winter gear...I had cropped tights on. I said to Erin, wow, you really have some serious winter tights on...she looked at me like I was from Mars (...or Canada...) and said "Ya! Everybody does! It's cold!" It did take a little longer to get going than I had hoped. I had timed my warmup to mostly coincide with the start, but unfortunately it did start late, so I had completely chilled by the time we got going. The assisted wheelchair athletes went first, and we cheered them around the track. We then lined up in behind and were off.
I went off hard, and then continued that way. By the time I did the track loop and hit the road, my hands were absolutely frozen, to the point of hurting. Chance told me later that was a sign of going all out, since the blood is shunted away from the extremities. There's a bit of an uphill in the first mile, and I remember looking at my heart rate which was solidly in Z4 - as it should be for a 5k - and thinking, ok girl just keep this going. Mile 1 - 7:05. Check. Mile 2 has a massive hill in it, and we were also heading into a surprising headwind. I passed the one aid station at the top of that hill, and tho I briefly thought about grabbing a cup, I couldn't bear the thought of water splashing on me, not giving up the precious few seconds it would cost. Come on, it's a mere 3 miles, and if done right, only 22 minutes, so I ran right by.
The turnaround was at mile 1.9, and my plan had been to imagine I was at the end of a 70.3 and drop the hammer. Always practicing for future race days ;) ...so I rounded the pylon, and hit the gas. And I never stopped. I knew one girl for sure was in front of me, in white shorts, who was solidly ahead of me, and wasn't sure about others. Sure enough, there was one other, and I passed her with conviction. Coming up to the hill on which the aid station rested, I pushed up that hill, noting a distinctly different approach to hills since training for Choo. They did not frighten me as much. About halfway up this mother of a hill, off my left shoulder, I could see the girl I passed a few minutes earlier now trying to pass me. All I could think was "there is no damn way you are passing me now", and I recalled some things I'd been reading in various tri champions' books about the mental game, and I really don't know where it came from but I found another gear, GOING UPHILL. I knew it had to be convincing, and so I made it that. Every other time I've been presented with this situation I have been the one beaten by that mental game. But not this time. And I could both see and feel the forward surge, going uphill. I set a new max heart rate in that moment. 203. TWO HUNDRED AND THREE. I didn't think that was possible in this old body of mine. I'm pretty freaking impressed with that, truth be told!
Of course I knew I had to keep that going through to the end now. Thankfully there was a blessed downhill, and even though it hurt my quads, it gave my thumping heart a bit of a respite. I rounded the corner, and turned into the schoolyard, trying to find yet another gear to finish it up. Matthew was there in the final stretch as I could feel myself starting to slow, nothing left. He just looked at me, pointed to the finish line, and said "Go get that!" And so I did. I managed to pull in a 6:33 in that last mile. Just never imagined that possible before, let alone on a hilly course like that. Looking at the file, I can see that surge in pace too, which is always a cool thing to see. Ok, well, if you are a data geek like me, I guess. :)
And so, in the final analysis, I not only PRed, not only did sub 23, but I actually surpassed even Coach's target in a convincing fashion. 21:39 was my official time. I told Matthew afterwards, that I love it when he puts a goal out there, that I don't think is possible for me, and yet by the fact of him putting it out there, I start to believe it might be possible, and then I go achieve it, or sometimes if the gods are smiling, smash it. Of course that belief is possible only through the trust he has worked so hard to earn. And for that I am the most grateful.
It may seem silly to have such a long post for such a small, and seemingly insignificant, race. The crazy thing is, I'm almost as happy about this race as I am about Ironman. Hilarious right? And as I contemplated that after the race, I realized why. It really isn't about the distance. It isn't about how prestigious the race is. It isn't about how big the race is, or where you place. It's about putting it out there, and doing your absolute best, no matter the distance. Ultimately, we do only race ourselves. I think that's why I'm so proud of this small race. I left everything out there, and I conquered my fears. I started out full bore, maintained that, and had my last mile as the fastest mile, and by a long shot. I ran that hill, and really believed I could do it, and passed someone going uphill. I finally understood the mental game, and used it to my advantage, rather than being conquered by it. I set a new MaxHR, by almost 10 beats! All of these things I can take with me, in triathlon and out of it. It's about being the best me I can be in that moment, as is everything in life, and I believe I accomplished that in those 22 minutes. And it's a good feeling knowing I gave everything I could.
And now the season is "officially" over. I postponed my "time off"...the unstructured time that we take after an A race, to now. And as I sit here in the warm ocean breezes of the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica, I feel proud of the season I've just completed. I'm super excited about what next season will bring. And I'm really looking forward to the cross training I have in front of me - yoga, rainforest hikes, zip lines, and surfing. And I get to share it with Kayla. Happy Day.
Happy training,
Kat
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