New Balance Pacesetters 15km

My first race report of the year! It has been months since I last did any kind of race. I have been having some challenges with my shins, I have been travelling a lot for work and I have been a little bit lazy. But all of that is behind me. It is early Monday morning as I write this and 24 hours since the race.

Pre-Race
I have not been training very much over the last month as I have been trying to rest my shins. Previous posts indicate that I still seem to have a fairly good level of residual fitness, but my legs are not that strong. Definitely something to work on for my big "A" race this year (Singapore marathon -December). I decided not to run at all this week and let my shin rest completely so I had a couple of 45 minute evening walks but no running.

The night before the race was a catalogue of things you shouldn't do. Beer (three or four!!?!?), margaritas (just the one), spicy fajitas and not enough water. I was in bed by eleven. I set the alarm and crept between the sheets feeling slightly anxious about the fact that I finished the night with two pints of water on top of the beers and with all that liquid hadn't needed to pee for about 5 hours. I did have the sense to get my race bag ready and pin my number to my top which helped me to mentally check off a bunch of what-could-go-wrongs-in-the morning.

The alarm went at 5:45 and I got up immediately. Lauren never stirred. I had been in a deep dream about something work-related which i continued to think about whilst I made a PB&J and guzzled a litre of water. After liberally applying Vaseline to the chafing bits, i was dressed and out the door with another PB&J in hand, Polar strapped to wrist and cap on head.

I was pretty sure I knew where the race site was and where to get some parking, but little did I expect to have to go from car-lot to car-lot in the park trying to find a space. Mental note for next time. Malaysians like to get there early! All in all, it wasn't that far from where we live and by the time I found a space and walked down to the start tents, it was about 6:30.

The race started at 7:15 and I used the 45 minutes I had to warm up and stretch and stretch and stretch. I was psychologically beating myself up at the potential damage i was about to do to my shins if they weren't quite ready and I was determined to do everything that i could to prepare them for the day. There was a great water station in the tent and I slowly supped on water for the 45 minutes. By 7:10, after a quick pee in the bushes I was on my way to the start line with legs that couldn't be any warmer. On route, I met, SC, a colleague from work, who told me that this was going to be hot and hilly, really hilly.

The Race

This was always going to be a gentle training run so I had no expectations about time and I was in no hurry to get to the front of the crowd. I just found a space somewhere around two-thirds of the way from the front of starting chute. I checked my laces, checked my watch and said good luck to SC*. The horn went and we were off. It was fully light by then and starting to get warm.

The first couple of kilometers were un-eventful, some long but not too steep uphills and downhills and wide streets with plenty of space. Then, things changed. The gradients got steeper, and the hills got longer. By the time the first water station appeared at around 4.2km I was really feeling the effects of beer and fajitas and was hot and thirsty. I hit the water station in 23 minutes and felt good, believing momentarily that I was on for somewhere around a 1:20 race.

By the time the 5.5km point hit us, we were on an unshaded steep ascent. I looked at the temperature on my Polar (which is never 100% accurate but is normally a good ball-park) and it read 31 degrees (that is 88F in American money). The hill in front of me was enough to immediately switch to a run-walk strategy. In my head I thought three things: I am burning too much energy trying to run this monster. I tend to train on the flat or small hills and am just not good at hills. Walking with a powerful long stride will get me up this hill faster than most of the people around me will get up it "running".

So, my strategy, walk the steeps, shuffle run the moderates and 'run' the downhills to make up the time. All in all, a few people passed me on the uphills, but most people were so burned out by the time they hit the top that they had nothing left, even for the downhill so I was taking out dozens and dozens on each of the downs and the (minimal) flats.

At the 10K mark, I was at 1.01 and hot,  but feeling quite strong.  At 10k-12k there was what I remember as the only decent flat bit of the course and i extended my stride and increased my pace to something nearer to 5 minutes km's than 6, but it was hard to tell as I had never seen the route before and the distance-signs were not always easy to spot.

With 3km to go, I was starting to feel the lack of training in my legs, and started to notice the hills again. This slowed me right down and I was back into the walk-run. I noticed that many other people had also decided to adopt this strategy, but I am not too sure how many of them planned for it and how many of them were just feeling beaten by the ever increasing temperature and the killer undulation.

With 1K to go, I really had to dig deep and find some mental strength to keep going. It was really hard as I would normally have picked out a pacer at this point and stuck to their shoulder to get me through but I was obviously far enough back in the pack that most of the stronger runners had finished.

I crossed the line feeling hot and dehydrated, but really really happy to have finished without any sign of a pain in my shin and in a time of 1.31 . I spent so much time stressing about my shins that I forgot how much I love to run (even when it is TOUGH running) and I love the atmosphere of race-day.

I read lots of running blogs these days and I love the way different runners describe the high of crossing a finish line. To me, it is like nothing else. It is emotion and pride and joy and relief and exhilaration and pain and punch-the-sky happiness all rolled into one.

By the time I de-briefed with SC, drank about a litre of fluid and gorged on a big juicy watermelon, I made my way back to the car where I changed, stretched for 20 minutes, ate the spare PB&J and set off with a grin on my face. I was back. My shins held up and I felt great. The pain and suffering from an hour before on a particularly gruesome hill had faded into a distant memory and I had another medal around my neck. The temperature control in the car read 36 outside (97F).

By the time I got home, Lauren (unusually for her) has just got up and had a fresh pot of coffe on the go and a big loaf of Sourdough on the board. I could tell it was going to be a good day!


*SC is not a pet-Blog name I have for my work colleague. His name really is SC.