Wednesday, November 02, 2005

On the Road Again

Sunday I had my first hard run since the Okanagan Marathon on October 9th. I went out with my good friend, Michael for what was supposed to be a sociable 5.9 mile race, the James Cunningham Seawall Race, in say... around 48 minutes. Hah!

Michael has had a frustrating year, and having had a few of those I can certainly empathise. He ran a 3:26 - in his first marathon - in Vancouver this May and had hoped to BQ in Kelowna. He needed a 3:10 and he certainly has one in him. But after Vancouver Michael was plagued with bad luck, running injuries and a mountain-biking crash, all that left him unable to train for long periods of time. Before he knew it, it was the middle of the summer with the fall marathon season fast approaching. Michael never was able to get the big mileage in that is so necessary for a solid aerobic base, but that certainly wasn't going to stop him from making the effort. He was on pace in Kelowna for the first 20K and then was hit with brutal cramps. Hugh and I passed him around 35K and he was limping along like the paratrooper he once was. He ended up being ten minutes slower than his first marathon, but it was an amazing feat given the actual amount of training he'd been able to do. Of course, Michael, much like someone else we know, tends to overlook such details and I know that all he is thinking about these days is running a 3:10 and BQing.

At first we kind of kept to our plan. We did the first mile in 8 minutes flat. Right on marathon pace. However, Mr. Loer was chomping at the bit. I tried to keep Michael in check for the first 8K and then pretty much gave up. He just wanted to run and forget about Kelowna and forget about Boston and forget about a 3:10.

I tried my best to tuck in behind him, nagging him every few hundred meters about how we'd feel the next day. I forgot my chest band for my Polar heart rate monitor so I had to judge my effort by my breathing, which was pretty comfortable. I felt great. And was very conscious of not wanting to get carried away. When you're out with a race horse sometimes you just get dragged along. With a little less than 2K left, Michael and I made for the finish line.

I was shocked to see the Race Clock at no more than 43:30 and my actual chip time was 43:26, for an average mile pace of 7:30. Which just happens to be the pace for a 3:10... Hhmmnnn, Michael!

I am so looking forward to Las Vegas and some sunshine. Here in Vancouver it has been raining steadily. Grey skies, grey clouds and an endless downpour for days on end. You go to work in the dark, come home in the dark and run in the dark. Thank God for Sunday mornings.

I remember why I don't like running in the winter... Cold, wet feet... Fun, fun, fun!


Blogger Scooter said...

Cold, wet feet and running in the dark. Isn't Boston prep going to be fun? Glad you enjoyed the race and didn't get too stupid out there.

2:40:00 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home