For 5 or 6 years now, my spring season has begun with the St. Pat’s Boardwalk 10 mile run, which runs up and down the length of the Atlantic City-Ventnor Boardwalk. This is a very community-friendly race, that raises money for The Donny Fund.
I love doing this race, as many of my friends from the local running and triathlon community come out of winter hibernation to enjoy a fun and festive day. This year the weather was still in winter mode, with 35-40 degree temps, and a relatively light 10-12 mph northeast wind. Compared to some years, this is great weather. Compared to other years, not so much. It’s relative.
Many of the runners dress in keeping with the St. Patty’s Day theme, and the run is typically the same day as the Atlantic City St. Patty’s Day parade, which adds to the vibe of the event. One group of guys goes all out, with face painting, kilts and Irish flag. And the best part is they are actually pretty speedy, typically running about 8:00 minute miles in this get up, seen below.
Usually, Team U-Crazy will have a full posse represented at this race. This year, thanks to pregnancy, illness, previous obligations and so on, John’s mom Jeanne and I had to represent the full team. Miss Jeanne did her thing in the 5k, and I went for the 10 miler.
I went into this race at the end of one of my hardest weeks of training yet. I had three tough bike workouts in a row and a swim workout that had me gasping for air and drinking half of the pool. By Friday afternoon, I was on the couch, zonked out, thinking: I am so freaking tired. How am I racing tomorrow?
When I foolishly mentioned to Vince that this was a tough week before racing, he responded, “It’s a 10 mile run. I call that Wednesday.”
So, I tried some sympathy from John. “Maria, you want to qualify for Kona. This is what it takes.”
Alrighty, then.
Despite my reservations about my energy level, when the siren went off, I flipped the switch, and I was off running. Tired, what? Who? I feel grrrrrreeeeaaaatttt!
In any race that I do, I have an instinctual desire to pace myself. I think this comes from years when I rowed crew in the stroke seat. I mean, after all, as the stroke, it was my job to pace the boat. It kind of sticks with you.
In an Ironman, this instinct has served me well. In a 10 mile race, when I should be running as hard as I can without worrying about the numbers, not so much.
My strategy was to run the first half with a heart rate of about 160-165 beats per minute. When I got to the 5 mile turnaround, I would increase the effort, ending up at about 170-ish bpm by the time I crossed the finish line.
Within the first half mile or so, I was already up to 166 bpm. While I felt great, I adjusted to get my heart rate down just a few beats. In hindsight, I could have and should have run the entire race a few beats higher. That wouldn’t have necessarily bought me a lot of time, but maybe 1-2 minutes more.
During the run out, we were going into a slight headwind. So, I tried to draft whenever possible. Around mile 2, a guy passed me at maybe 2-4 seconds per mile faster. I figured I would hop on his tail and catch the benefit of the draft, while running a little faster than I was doing on my own.
Trouble is, within 30 seconds of passing me, he slowed down. So, I went around him for the pass. He sped up.
Okay, you want to run faster, fine. I’ll go back to drafting then.
He kept up with the increased speed for a bit, then slowed back down.
Okay, fine. I’ll pass you then.
As I attempted to pass him, guess what happened? Yup. He sped up.
Okay, fine. I’ll draft off of you then.
This went on for maybe 2 miles. No joke.
He slowed down. I passed him. He sped up. I drafted. He slowed down. And repeat.
By the time we got to mile 4 or so, he slowed down, I made the pass and that was the last time I saw him. Poor dude. It was only a matter of time.
Now, if this were a female, I would NOT have played the game the same way. She would have gotten passed with authority. But, because it was a male, and I was only in the first few miles of the run, I made different decisions based on pacing. There was no point in burning a match on him. Plus, I got to draft a bit.
But, in hindsight (again), I would not have played around with him. Monkeying back and forth like that likely cost me some time because it took me out of my own head and my own race. I should have just passed with authority and been done with him. I can handle a little headwind all on my own, thank you very much.
Coming into the turnaround, I could see the people that were ahead of me. So, I started counting.
I was about a half of a mile (give or take) off the first female. Then I counted four more females after her, and then there was me.
Sixth place. This is the best placement I’ve ever had in this race, and I was hoping to nab a slot or two on the way to the finish line. As I was coming into the turnaround, I would have the benefit of the tailwind, and I had plenty of matches to burn.
Let’s go, ladies. Where them girls at?
I turned around the cone and shot off like a rocket. I went from ~7:20/min miles to ~7:00/min miles. I knew in that moment that I had played the first half way to conservatively. I had juice. It hurt, but I had juice. I hoped I’d be able to catch at least one of the other female runners in time.
For the first mile after the turnaround, I didn’t see the 5th place female. But, then, as we came into mile 7, I could see her long ponytail swishing from side to side. I was clearly gaining on her. By the time we got to mile 8, she was just steps ahead of me.
Okay, now is the time to pass with authority. I took 10 seconds to steal up some oxygen, and I surged. I ran past, making certain to keep my form solid, to avoid providing any tells at all that I might be hurting.
I could tell from the way her head was cocked, however, that she was starting to fade. I knew I had her, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I never let up from that surge.
As I approached mile 9–just one more mile to go–I passed another male racer. Guess what he did after I passed him?
Yeah, he sped up.
Side note–>Guys: It’s a pleasure to be out racing together, experiencing the rigors of competition on an even playing field. But, this speeding-up-as-a-female-passes thing is incredibly annoying and transparent–especially when the guy can’t maintain his surge. It really, really, really annoys me during the bike portion of a triathlon, because when a guy does this, it causes a drafting/blocking situation. If you are going to pass, do it. Otherwise, accept that there is another athlete who is faster.
Coming into the final stretch, I searched the horizon for the 4th place female, I thought maybe I could just make her out, but she was already just steps from the finishing chute, and I had about a tenth of a mile to go. Dang it. Clearly, I had made up time, but not enough.
I wondered if the woman I had passed was on my tail. Do I dare take a peak?
I think looking behind as you race is probably one of the worst things you can do if someone is pursuing you. It basically tells the other person you aren’t sure if you have a finishing kick or not. That may give them just the motivation they need to kick it into gear and go for it.
So, I didn’t sneak a peak even though I desperately wanted to. I dug in and moved as fast as I could. I imagined that these were the final moments at Ironman Lake Placid and I was going for the AG win. My top speed in those final moments? 5:49 min/mile.
Boom…Or whatever else such saying the cool kids are using these days.
I finished in 1:11:53, just a scant 27 seconds faster than last year. But, 27 seconds faster is still faster – so a PR time it is. I nabbed 5th place overall female, 1st place age group, and 27th place overall. This is the best I’ve ever done at this race in terms of placement. And, after a hellacious week of training with no recovery let alone taper, it surprised me.
The age group win felt especially good because in the running world, I’m still in the 30-39 age group. They haven’t aged me up to the 40 year old categories, like USAT does. So, being 39 and winning the age group feels good. We really are getting better as we get older.
After the race, it was great to chat and joke with my fellow runners and triathletes about how gross and stinky we are. It was great to share the day with Jeanne, who rocked her 5k, and set her own personal record. It was a great day to be out running–but then again, isn’t every day great for running?
Much love and kisses to the Team U-Crazy members who couldn’t make it this year. We’ll reconvene next year, my fellow loony tunes! Anyone else want to join Team U-Crazy? We are taking applications…
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Do you have a local race that you love to do every year? Do you find that you see the same faces that become friends year after year? What do you like best about community races?
