Rabbits at the Fish Hatchery Run

Both falling asleep and waking up with a scratchy throat and lots of post-nasal drip, I knew that today wouldn’t be my best running. Sometimes I go out thinking I will halfheartedly race, but I never do. When I run a race, I give the best I’ve got for that day. Pace varies based on how I’m feeling, but I always give what I’ve got.
Matt and I ran the two mile race as a warm-up. Running at my most recent marathon pace, I couldn’t remember when an 8:30/mi felt so hard. How was I going to race twice this distance at a harder effort? This race was a free club event, and it seemed that most of the field had the same idea of running the 2 miler as a warm-up. We finished in just under 17 minutes, 8:30/mi, right on the nose.

We had about ten minutes to stretch, grab some water and line up for the race. I felt good enough that I didn’t totally dread the 4 mile race. Still sniffling and coughing up phlegm, we were off.

The sun had come out as we climbed the first hill, just feet from the start. After that .25 mi hill, it was mostly downhill to the turn-around. Almost impossible to NOT go out too fast. I watched dozens of people sail by me. I had to check my Garmin to make sure it was them speeding up, not myself going out too fast. At running near my tempo pace (read : top speed I can manage without crapping myself), I really have to be smart. Crashing is no fun no fun no fun. That’s what I kept telling myself as we kept going downhill. The first two miles were comfortably easy because of that.

At the turn around, it was fun to see the slower runners and cheer them on. Most of the time I can only manage a “hey! good job!” as someone overtakes me on the course. At mile 3, I was still holding steady, but the effort definitely was forced. As I passed an older male runner, he said, “I knew I went out too fast when YOU were behind me.” “What do you mean?” “You beat the pants off of me on longer distances, like that 1:45 half you ran in August,” he explained. When I race, I usually have another club member that runs just ahead of me that I use as a pace rabbit. I never imagined that I was a rabbit and pacing guide for someone else. Having sporadic (at best) attendance at club races, I was surprised that he recognized me at all. It was flattering to know that someone uses me as their own gauge for pace. :)

The last mile was the steepest uphill, the same place that I was being passed on the way out. As I passed Tanya (one of the two women that I almost pooed myself to catch at the Hammond Half) and said, "This hill seems bigger than before, doesn't it?" "Sure does, what the heck?" she replied.

As I struggled to keep up the pace that I run comfortably for a half marathon on a good day, I never felt so happy to hit the crest of the hill. My stomach churned and had to slow a little to keep from soiling myself. Then, out of nowhere, I hit a pocket of energy and sailed down that last .25 mi. with Garmy showing me a big “6” out in front of my current pace.
The best part of that race was stopping at the finish line. I'm not gonna lie, I was glad to be done. While running it was fun, but wow, I really loved stopping.
Matt finished in 27:10, 6:45/mi, and 10th of 101 people.

Finishing just a hair over an 8:00/mi, I crossed the line at 32:03.
Photo credits above : Y. Kim, 6RRC.

That bested my previous 4 miler PR by almost 11 minutes (40:50, 10:12/mi). Why such an improvement?
It was January in Alaska, much hillier, and thirty degrees BELOW zero.