Avis gets a 10k PB (miracle!)

[Avis]

I apologize for the length of this, please feel free to skim...

Please bear with me as I ramble on a bit about my 10k race this past Sunday, the annual Run for the Cure event in Sherbrooke. About 900 people participated in the various events; about 85 of us ran the 10k. The 10k was to follow an unfamiliar route for me—a bike path along the Magog River. I had only the vaguest idea of this route; I knew it was an asphalt path, I knew it would take me over hills on the way back. In the days before the race I had nightmares of getting hopelessly lost in the outskirts of Sherbrooke, so far behind the other runners that I was forgotten.

The morning of the race arrived, cool, cloudy, and dry. The park which was the centre of the event was a sea of pink and white; a small knot of us gathered around the 10k sign. I nervously surveyed the other 10k’ers. They all looked younger, lankier and swifter than I. My nightmares might come true! What was I thinking? I really was worried about getting separated from the group and lost during the race. I half-joked about this with a woman standing next to me, and she kindly led me over to the race organizer who assured me the way was well marked and staffed. I calmed down after that, and tears came briefly into my eyes (that always happens to me before a race.) I had paid my money, I had done my training, fair and square, I had a right to be here! With that, I remembered to start my Garmin, the countdown began, and we were off.

I had a “plan” for this race. I was going to do 5:1’s, unless: 1) it was downhill (then run fast no matter what), or 2) it was uphill (permission to reduce the length of the running segment, if necessary), or 3) I felt unduly tired (then switch to 2:1’s until the feeling passed). Other than that, my time goals were vague, as I really didn’t know what to expect. My 10k PB was over three years ago (1:14:55), my most recent 10k race was two minutes slower, and I really didn’t expect to beat either of those paces. I told my Support Staff, C, to be at the finish line at an hour and fifteen minutes; I should be there no later than 1:20.
I started out according to plan, and folks passed me, as they do. The women with the baby joggers, the late starters, the heavy-set –all passed me. I came to be running behind a thin, middle-aged woman who was walking very briskly with a cane. Every once in a while, she would start to run a bit, and she was fast! Her walking was faster than my running. I was simultaneously impressed and disheartened. I finally passed her around the first water station, and I told I was impressed with her speed. I could hear her clicketing along behind me for quite a while.

Here is what was new for me in this race: it was my mental state. Once we got onto the trail, I just ran. I noticed the flowers, “Oh, those asters are pretty.” I noticed my mouth was dry, but I didn’t fret. I almost missed a bend in the trail, but I didn’t. I followed my plan, and took inventory: no tension, no pain, not breathing too hard. When I passed a runner, I said hello. I stopped briefly for a swallow at every water station, thanked the staff, and ran on. My Garmin dinged the kilometers off, and sometimes I looked, and sometimes I didn’t. When I did look, my paces surprised me: 7:00 here, 7:20 there, yet I wasn’t running hard. “Hmm,” I thought, “I could maybe get a new PB at this rate.” It was a happy thought, but not one that spurred me to change my plan or speed up, which was probably a good thing.

I must have been in some kind of zone. The 4k water station was on one side of the river. I know I crossed the river (and it is a good-sized one), somewhere around 5k. I have absolutely no recollection of crossing a bridge. I remember running gleefully downhill, and passing a runner who was blowing her nose. That must have been the river bank, and the bridge must have been after that. It bothers me that I don’t remember the bridge. C tells me to go back there and find that darn bridge, if it bothers me so much. I just might do that.

Around 6k was when I noticed that the kilometer markers along the route were way off from what my Garmin said. When the marker said, “7,” and my Garmin said, “6.75”. I pondered the moral dilemma: if I got a PB on a course that short, shouldn’t I keep running after the finish to make it a full 10, and a true PB? I sure hoped I wouldn’t have to, for at this point we were starting to hit the first real uphill slopes, and I was feeling it. My bad toe was starting to gnaw, and I was taking more walk breaks. I was trying to stick to the plan, but geesh there were a lot of uphills. I passed a couple who had been running in front of me for the last few kilometers.
The 8 kilometer marker aligned with my Garmin, so I didn’t have that dilemma anymore, just the hills to get over, a toe to ignore, and two kilometers til my new PB!

At last I could hear the crowds yelling and knew I was almost to the park; the final half-k was all uphill. As I approached the finish, I could see a solid knot of white-and-pink, filling the roadway and blowing horns. These were the 5k walkers, and I would have to get around or through them to get to the finish. I spotted a narrow path between the walkers and the curb, just enough for me to squeeze by. “Runner coming through on the left!” I gasped, for by now I had started my final sprint. Just as I stepped into this gap, a walker directly in front of me took a step to her left. I collided into her from behind, we both stumbled, but thankfully, neither of us fell. I leaped over the curb and onto the grass. A surge of irrational anger filled me with adrenaline, and it fueled my run around the group, back onto the road, and all the way to the finish line.

Later, I felt bad about that collision, and thought perhaps I should have at least slowed down to apologize. I don’t believe the woman was hurt at all. My only excuse is that, at that point in a race, my mind is in a state of oxygen deprivation and not working normally.
In the end, my chip time was 1:13: 40. Garmin time was a little longer, because, as usual, I forgot to turn it off. C hadn’t even arrived to meet me at the finish yet, so we have no photos of my moment of triumph. The woman with the cane finished in 1:19, and I was there to cheer her in and tell her bravo.

In summary, the best part of this race was my positive mental state. Not once did that whiney side of me show up and ask why are we doing this. When my foot started hurting, I just told myself, well it’s bound to, it’ll be fine. When I got tired, I told myself I was supposed to be tired, and that everything was going to turn out just right. And so it did!

[marymac442]

Great job, way to keep up you positive attitude throughout.
Too bad about the collision with the walker but no harm, no foul. It is a drag when folks don't make room for runners at the end of these combined races.

[Habs4ever]

What a great attitude throughout the whole race.
Congratulations on your PB!

[Spirit Unleashed]

Very cool!

It is surprising how emotions suddenly come over us during races and we feel the tears.

[Robinandamelia]

Awesome PB....nice when it comes together Congrats.

[chunkymonkeymelonhed]

Oh my goodness this report makes me

[purdy65]

Oh my goodness this report makes me

+1 ! Congrats!


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[Darth Tater]

[La]

Way to get your mental on, Avis!!

Just as I stepped into this gap, a walker directly in front of me took a step to her left. I collided into her from behind, we both stumbled, but thankfully, neither of us fell. I leaped over the curb and onto the grass. A surge of irrational anger filled me with adrenaline, and it fueled my run around the group, back onto the road, and all the way to the finish line.

I wouldn't call it irrational anger. If you're running and in the zone (especially that close to the finish line) and someone steps out in front of you without looking, it's totally rational to be angry about that! Good that you could use the adrenaline rush to get you through the finish.

Someone did this to me around 35K of the marathon on Sunday. It was a slower runner ahead of me who took a 90-degree turn on the course right in front of me to greet a friend by the side of the road. He didn't look behind him before he did this and we nearly collided. I yelled "Look Out!" as he almost took me out and we avoided colliding.

[Jwolf]

Nicely done! Congratulations.

[Ken B]

Love the report and so happy for your PB. Congratulations!!