This past Saturday I met my goal of setting a new PR (personal record) in the 5K. I ran the PTI 5K On the Runway, a race literally held on an airport runway. Races don't come any flatter than this one, folks. Add in to that sunny skies and cool temps in the low 60's at the start of the race, and it was the perfect combo. Runners were setting PR's right and left and our hands hurt when we left from high-fiving each other so much.
My best 5K time was set at this same race last year. Then, I ran a 21:37, which is a 7-minute/mile pace. This year, I wanted under 21 minutes. I trained using my beloved "Run Less, Run Faster" Furman program for a 20:50 race finish. My final time?
For all the joy of a PR, there's always (for me) the "if only" nag of what could have been better. In this case, I went out way too fast. (For longtime readers: I know, I know. What are the odds??) My miles were a 6:28, 6:48, and 6:54. Pretty sure if I had started off with a more reasonable warm-up pace of 6:50, I could have run the last 2 miles closer to 6:35 each. I do much better when I force myself to run a negative split (second half of race faster than the first.)
Next year. :)
There is one good story from the race. I was following one guy for most of the race. He was about 10 steps ahead of me and we were almost identical in our pace because he never got away from me, but I never pulled closer. Finally--with maybe a half-mile to the finish--this guy grunted then threw his hands up in the universal, "I quit!" gesture, and started walking.
No! As a fellow runner, you want everyone to do well. (Unless it's a female I suspect is in my age group. In that case, bite it b**ch.) I wanted to say something to him like, "You're so close! Stay strong. Keep going!" So as I pulled abreast of him, I looked over and said these words of encouragement:
Exactly. I hadn't taken into account that I was running my little heart out and had no breath to spare. This poor man probably thought I was getting ready to hurl on him. Motivational? Only to encourage him to speed up and get the heck away from me.
I have no idea if my words had any effect as I passed him and continued on. But I like to think that once I was safely past, he picked up the pace.
Field Placement: 52/693
Age Group: 2/54 (Winning woman beat me by a good 30 seconds. She was flying.)