Fall City 10k

I am "comped" for Saturday's Fall City 10k.

This suggests that the race directors expect me to be a somewhat "elite" runner (my entry code is ELITE2014), and I feel an obligation to run the race with a bit of intensity.

But I don't start the race with particular intensity.  My first mile split is 5:55 which is a slower than I expected, and I find myself in 7th place. 

It is a flat scenic course with long straight stretches of roads through farmland, and the morning sun is rising over the Cascades and burning through the patches of low fog clinging to the Snoqualmie Valley.  I tell myself I feel strong and somehow my body believes me.  I pick up the pace and catch up with two 20-something guys and a spectator yells out that it is a battle for 3rd place.  My 5th mile is even faster and I mange to drop the two young guys.  My 6th mile is my fastest mile of all at 5:43 and I cross the finish line in 3rd place. 

The 3rd place finish means I am on the podium for top overall finishers which I have to assume is worthy of being comped.  The 3rd place overall finish also means that I am not eligible for podium in my ancient age-group class.  I had met these old guys in my age-group before the race and I wander over to congratulate them.  They were eager to tell me how they battled each other and how triumphant they felt.  One of the guys, unaware of my age, asks me how I did and what age division I am in.  I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of superiority, but am reluctant to even admit I am in their division (especially as I immediately think about the caliber of the Seattle CNW master's cross country team).  

My time of 36:50 is a bit disappointing - it seemed so much faster.  But then for me at this point I try to subscribe more to the yoga philosophy of racing - the results don't really matter, it is all about the experience.  

Cross country training in typhoon

In order to prepare for the upcoming cross-country campaign, I join Mike Trees today for a bit of  race-specific interval training:

15 x 400 at 80-seconds on 2-minute cycle  (20 x 400 for Mike).

Of course we try to time the session so that we are running around a muddy field at the peak of a significant typhoon --

amidst gale force winds

and through 3-inch deep standing water.  

Surely the upcoming cross country races will not seem so intimidating after this?

Murakami Triathlon 2014

I complete last week's Murakami Olympic Distance triathlon in 2:25.
The time is over 3 minutes off the 2:21 I recorded in 2011, which I suppose is as good as I could expect given my leisurely training.

If my result is a bit disappointing for me, the race experience itself was particularly desultory.

I am seeded in the first wave, the fastest of the five waves.  It is cool and flattering to be in the faster group, but it mostly serves to demonstrate how relatively weak my swim continues to be.  As we swam I actually felt like my swim form is strong - but I watched the other orange caps (my wave) pull farther and farther away from me.  At the halfway turnaround it is disheartening to see how far ahead the mass of orange caps are.

After a 31 minute swim and 3-minute transition the disheartening feeling is only amplified as I find myself cycling into headwind with no one near me - at the turnaround I see my teammates powering farther and farther ahead of me in tight draft packs.  I tell myself to stay competitive and stay in the moment - focus on powering through each pedal stroke and keep overtaking the slower cyclists in front of me.  Toward the end of the 40k when a fast cyclist from one of the slower seeded waves does overtake me, I surge to stay with him, blatantly drafting off of him for at least 3 kilometers until a combination of fatigue and shame causes me to lose contact (I usually never draft).  I feel like my bike effort was reasonably good, but the time of 72 minutes really sucks relative to previous times and the times of guys I kept up with in the past.

The run is a similar story - it really takes a lot of effort for me to clock the 40-minute 10k, I certainly did not give up like some people imply afterwards.  I feel like I poured 100% into the run when I stagger across the finish line.  But yeah I have to assume if I was battling neck-and-neck for a podium spot I would have tapped into another level of speed (I was hardly battling for a podium spot--- my age-group friends Mark Shrosbee and Brett Whiteoak are astonishingly fast and their times were some 15-minutes or so faster than mine).