Avenue of the Giants 10K Race Report

It's not even light outside when I pull out of the driveway. In exchange for my race entry, I've agreed to volunteer all day both Saturday and Sunday. Since Avenue of the Giants is put on by my moderately-sized running club, it's one of several events each year that is an "all hands on deck" affair. For me, it means I get to run even more races for free. I'm so spoiled. I try to remember that last part as I yawn my way down the highway.

I yawn through packet pickup. The last of the marathoners pick up their bib numbers with sleep in their eyes too as they head to the starting line. I pass out numbers to both over-excited runners and nervous runners alike. Before I know it, Rachel is pulling me away to warm up.

Y. Kim, SRRC photo.

As I pinned my bib number on back home, I couldn't help but notice my confidence. I knew I was going to PR. Not typically so confident in myself, it made me uneasy. Since I have so few 10Ks on my resume, I've been running back to back unofficial 10K PRs in half marathons for awhile. It was time to make it official. I even left my PR singlet at home, opting for the club jersey instead.

This year, the 10K begins with the half marathon. I adjust my starting position accordingly. I'm toeing the line with the lanky speedsters whose fit leg muscles alone are quite intimidating. The race begins and it's less than five seconds before I cross the timing mat. And crap, I'm still stuck behind slower runners. Luckily my speedy takeoff leads me out of the chaos pretty quickly.

Mile 1: 7:17

I've raced and trained on this stretch of road no less than twenty five times. I know all the twists, turns, inclines, and descents. Today, they're going by quickly and in a blur of green. Even this abbreviated version of our redwoods course is breathtaking. My head is so clouded in the fog of discomfort, I try to force myself to enjoy it. For most on the course today, this is a destination race. I get to live in this forest paradise.

Most of the racers nearby are running the half marathon. It's humbling to share a few miles with those who will finish in a time I can only dream of achieving.

Mile 2: 7:03

The course dips in and out of the sunshine. Where is the darn turnaround?! I tuck in behind a guy who has to be running the half because his form and breathing are calm and relaxed. I'm everything but that. I imagine him as the greyhound and myself as the loping bulldog. I'm snorting and wheezing and probably sound like I'm actually dying. I'm sorry you have to listen to this, guy, I think to myself, I'll be gone soon.

Mile 3: 7:06

In addition to this being a familiar course, I'm intimately familiar with the turn around. Most years, I'm the person who spray paints the arrows and mile markers on the road. But today, I'm waiting and waiting and it's slow to arrive. Once I spot the turn around, on one of the steeper downhills, I spot the paint, but no turnaround cone. I make a u-turn on the green paint and begin my return trip.

Once I've resumed my pace, I notice that I've just run a twenty-two minute 5K. I try not to freak out. In fact, my goal for this race was to not freak out. I knew I could beat my previous best of 47:13, but I wasn't sure what time I was capable of running. My 5K time is just thirty seconds faster than my first half split. Do. not. freak. out. Your 5K PR is weak too. No big deal. There are no walls in the 10K. So what if you need to slow down?

Now, I'm facing back into the half marathon pack. I begin hearing cheers. Everyone is shouting my name and that I'm second place woman. All the excitement is exhilarating and I feel like a super hero. My pace increases.

Mile 4: 7:11

Before I know it, I'm back at Weott and running in the full sunshine. Wasn't I just here? When I run the half marathon, it's over an hour between visits to this point on the course. Today, it's less than twenty minutes.

By now, I've glued myself to the only other runner in sight. He's leading, I'm drafting. Then I return the favor. In between labored breaths, I squeeze out a "Thanks for pushing me today. I really a-ppre-ciate it." Words are hard. Especially those with multiple syllables. No more talking.  He's equally breathless in his reply: "You too. Mile 5. Tough part is over."

Mile 5: 7:18

We push one another along until the hill. It's in all my marathon and half marathon reports: that darn bridge over the freeway. It rises just thirty feet but I try to cheer myself up as I stare at it: it feels exactly the same in a marathon or half. Let's see how it is in the 10K? It will be fun!

The bridge. Taken on a rainy hike in November. Return trip is from the top of the photo to bottom.

As I climb, I try not to slow down but WHAM! A WALL! In a 10K?!?! Is this for real? It's as if I'm running through knee-deep mud. Legs. Won't. Move. That's when the girl waiting in the shadows behind me makes her move. She springs into action and bounds over the bridge like a frolicking bambi.

I catch up to my racing buddy again for a moment. Then he turns to me and asks me to tell him when we're one half mile from the end. I reply with "here" right away and clearly that's the wrong thing to say to keep your racing friend because he kicks it up another notch, one I don't currently possess myself and I watch him pull away. I try to pick it up, gaining on him and the second place female but now they're dueling and I'm just trying to keep up. I get one last cheer from Yoon as he snaps my photo.

Mile 6: 7:13

I burst out from the forest and into the sunshine. The arch! It nears! I float over the smaller river bridge and make the final turn just in time to spot the finish clock. Knowing my time is pretty close to gun time, I know I have to hustle. The sting of running a 3:30:01 at Boston still fresh in my mind, I'm determined to make it before the minute ticks by. I'm not having that again!

44:40....:41.....:42.... Augh!!! Pain!! Legs!!! Death!!!

Mile 6-finish: 1:31 (6:11/mi.)

Done!!!!

44:39
7:10/mi.
3rd lady, 1st F30-34

A new PR by almost three minutes. Good job legs! I introduce myself to my racing buddy. His name is Cameron and he's a local too. He'd later ask to be my Strava buddy.

I take a quick cool down, change clothes, and then head back to work. Stuffing my face while manning the t-shirt tent isn't as satisfying as it is when I've just completed the marathon, but the new PR has me smiling the rest of the day.

Over the last few weeks, I've felt my summertime racing plans shift. This 10K has a lot to do with that decision. Maybe I need to scrap the triathlon idea and see what I can do with shorter distances this summer? For now, I'll let the thoughts marinate. I've got a five mile race next weekend to help me decide. :)