AM: 10-mile race, 52:41, 24th place, 16 miles
The drive to the race this morning with Valerie was awesome, taking only two songs. Her new place is near Del Ray and fortunately a stone's throw from the Pentagon. She found a last-minute number and was game enough to race off of minimal training, but our Arcade Fire pump-up session was short-lived, in a good way.
When Murphy and I made our way to the start line of the race this morning, it was obvious that there was an horde of chuckleheads in front of us who weren't about to let us anywhere near the starting line. "Surely we're not losing to the guy in the Steelers hat," I quipped. On account of all of the traffic, I assumed that my race plan to go out in a conservative 5:20 was safe.
And with that I'd be wrong. After weaving in and out of people, I nonetheless hit my first mile in 5:06 trying with all of my might to stay totally relaxed, and yet I was dumbfounded at the number of people ahead of me. In fact, I'd only barely passed the women's leader at that point, who was literally running under world record pace for 10 miles and clearly going out too quickly. I then began the process of patiently pulling people back to me for the next six miles. Before the race, Jarrin, who crushed his PR today over just about every distance beyond 2 miles, slammed a Red Bull that some soldiers were handing out. He apparently wasn't the only one, because for a 10-mile race, everyone seemed to be going out like a rocket.
Over the Memorial Bridge, I passed an unidentified runner from Pacers (Taylor, who I'd never seen or met before), gnashing my teeth, spitting on his shoe, and elbowing him in the ribs as I ran by on the open road (not really). Until about the 7th mile, we both tried unsuccessful moves to drop each other while pulling more and more runners back in, including a few guys I recognized who have beaten me pretty soundly before. Just after mile 5, I heard a William Wallace-esque "Peeeeeeeee Arrrrrrrrrrrrggggghhh!" which turned out to be Ryan McGrath. While I tried to think of something clever to mutter, I just ended up stifling a laugh and pressing forward, where I soon saw Dirk on the long straightaway of Independence Ave, which was filled with people. It got me pumped seeing some familiar faces along the course after being gone for a while in NC, especially during a good race.
Finally, heading toward the 14th Street Bridge, I started to slip during what were my only two bad spots in the race, miles 8 and 9. Klim gave me a piece of advice the night before: run like it's an 8-mile race. That's a great piece of advice, and one I'm glad I followed, but this also has the inherent problem of leaving two more miles of racing. My 8th mile was my slowest, and for what I think was the first time all race, I was passed, starting with a runner from the strong Brazilian Army Team who I thought I'd left in my wake around mile 6. He apparently rallied because I was still passing guys when he passed me like he was trying to catch a train (
I immediately thought of this song...), putting more than 30 seconds on me in the last two miles. Take note: when passing the Brazilian Army, make sure they're really done.
The slow mile 8 represented more a lapse in concentration than really dying because I was able to find another gear and pick on my pace over the 14th Street Bridge: by far the hardest mile on the course and the only bridge in the world with multiple rolling hills. My place was even here as I was passed by one guy and passed another while chasing the pack of the master's winner and PacerX. I didn't catch them, but I managed to hold off runners closing on me and came back to earth with a last mile back on pace. I was shooting for a place somewhere in the 30s, so getting 24th was a nice surprise. I got in a cooldown with Bain, DaveO, Murphy, and a little bit with Valerie, taking in both the perfect racing weather (cool and dry in the high 50s/low 60s) and later a Ray's Hell Burger.
I knew I felt strong coming into this race with eight 100-mile weeks behind me, and there's still some room to improve because I definitely could have and should have been under 52:30. My workouts were going well, and despite the heavy volume, I felt fresh and just unbelievably strong. For some reason, I seem to race well off of high mileage, relatively speaking. I can't for the life of me quite figure that one out, but it seems to work at anything over 5k.
A 10-mile PR with plenty of good marathon workouts behind me is getting me pumped for the City of Oaks Marathon on November 1. After today's test, I say bring it on.
Splits: 5:06, 5:19, 5:14, 5:12, 5:15, 10:28 (missed one), 5:26, 5:22, 5:16
