Media Challenge, final race

The Media Challenges have been cancelled so many times this summer due to crazy heat that I don’t even know which one this was supposed to be, the third maybe? Whatever–it was the last one of the year, which meant it was my last chance to run a best time for the season, and maybe to set a new PB for the distance. I was so rushed after work that I left Little G at home, forgot to check my course times, and had to hustle to get to the starting line with only two minutes to spare. Defaulting to my If I’m not going to win, I may as well look cute in philosophy. I wore my red London Marathon tee, spandex shorts, and my adiZero racing flats. Spontaneously, I decided to race with my nano so as to avoid aggravation (the music distracts me from idiots).

There was an annoyingly large contingent of big guys from the New York Times–all in their royal blue team shirts–mucked right at the front of the starting line. I decided to stand smack in the middle of them, a lone red dot in a swarm of blue papermen. And then we were off. I smugly held myself in check as everyone else tore off full speed down the hill. Honestly, haven’t they figured out by now that killing the hill early kills them for later? This happens every race! I was pretty tense  from my work day, and could feel my shoulders up around my ears. I tried to lower them but gave up after a mile or so, deciding to concentrate on quick turnover instead, since that seemed to be what my body wanted to do: short rapid steps. I liked that, it felt good. A little past the halfway mark, the timekeeper called out my split for slightly more than 1.75 miles — 13 minutes plus. The second loop is slightly shorter than the first, so I was curious if I could possibly break 26 minutes, but then somewhere around Mile 2.5 I could feel myself working twice as hard to run a little bit slower than I was in the first 2 miles. I thought of DT, who theorizes that the third mile is the most physically painful and the most mentally challenging in these 3.5 milers. It’s the point where we start to seriously wonder if we can hang on until the finish line. I definitely fell off my pace; I can’t say by precisely how much since I was running watchless. I had stopped passing people, but I didn’t care since I’d passed plenty in the first 2.5 half miles.

Later, on my walk to the subway, I called my dad to tell him about my race. He commented that the distance was a walk in the park for me, but I had to clarify that the effort was quite the opposite. My legs were burning, I had an awful cramp in my side, and my vision was blurry. My dad laughed for a moment and then said, “Well butter, it sounds like you had a fun time.” I had to giggle too. Running: sublime, yet ridiculous.

So there I was, at the crest of the final hill before the lovely decline that drops into the finish line. I was pushing it. Dig deep, woman. You are actually only at the beginning of a long hard road, and I know you’ve got more grit inside. Carry yourself forward. I opened up my stride, but frowned when I heard “26:31” come through the finish line bullhorn. I didn’t even come close to breaking 26.

Regardless, I was still satisfied with my effort: I gave everything I had that day and got in my speed workout for the week. It was only later, when I got home and checked PF for my 3.5 mile PB, that I realized I’d set a new course record for myself. 26:31 is a 39-second improvement over my best time from 2 years ago. And, that 7:35 pace is my fastest per-mile pace in any race (not counting the Fifth Avenue Mile).

YOU GUYS! I am super excited to see what’s going to happen next! How fast can I get? Just how freaking fast can I actually go?