Yeti Chase

It was one of those days when having fur seemed like a pretty good evolutionary development.

I was wearing tights, compression socks, two shirts, gloves, an earband, and a hat. I ended up taking the gloves off at about the 2-mile mark, and wore them tucked into my hydration belt for the rest of the race. Temperature-wise, I was comfortable enough during the run.

But before and after the race: Brrrr! It was in the mid-20s and windy, and not at all the kind of day where you want to just stand around and wait. Plus, I tend to need to pee more frequently when I'm chilled, so I was frustrated by the long lines for the porta-potties. Once the race started, though, everything was fine. (Except for my fitness...but we'll get to that.)

It was called the "Yeti Chase", though I don't think the Yeti actually ran the race. (He was mostly posing for photos and eating unattended children, etc.) You could choose either a 5K or 10K, and for some reason I had opted for the 10K.

It's all part of my "2012 Self Improvement Project". I have committed to competing more often and trying to socialize more...and this race presented opportunities for both. It was at Bear Creek Lake Park, which is close to home and familiar, and it was on a weekend where I had nothing else scheduled. Unfortunately, the socializing part was inhibited by the limited parking and cold temperatures. Since the starting line was not near your car, you couldn't mill around the start area in warm clothing and then shed your extra layers at the last minute.

I started near the back of the pack. In the last race I ran, I only beat two people -- a lady pushing a stroller, and someone who looked like the pre-Subway Jared -- so I figured I'd be one of the stragglers in this race, too. But because of the cold, I had actually run a bit to warm up, and felt pretty good once the race was underway. I'm guessing that I passed at least 100 people in the first two miles, and was on a pace to have a very good race.

Alas, those first two miles were deceptive. The pace I was so happy with was definitely the result of a gradual downhill grade. We had started at the swim beach, then ran north past the park entrance and down the straight road that leads up to the boating area (the lowest point in the park). I love to ride that stretch on my bicycle, because there's never any traffic and you can go aero and put the hammer down. It turned out to be an enjoyable section to run, as well.

But then the course turned uphill as we approached the dam, and this is where my lessons began. Lesson 1: I need to do more hill training. Lesson 2: I need to do more training in general. Lesson 3: I'd probably be less of a social outcast if I didn't wheeze and gasp like Orson Welles climbing Mt. Everest. Most of the people I had passed in the first two miles scampered merrily by me, as my strides got shorter and shorter while my feet got heavier and heavier.

It's bad when you're already reassessing your entire training program 1/3 of the way through your first competition. But that's what I was doing. In hindsight, I'm very pleased that I spent those next agonizing miles thinking about how to improve my capabilities, rather than contemplating retirement from the sport. But there is no doubt I can do better, and I am committed to doing so.

As you expect as the race progresses, the pack thinned out, and fewer people passed me in the last two miles. In fact, I think from about mile 5 to mile 6, there may have been only one or two folks who came around from behind. And there was a woman in front who seemed to be slowing down, so I began to think about how I might be able to slowly reel her in and then sprint past her at the end.

But no, she didn't slow down any further, and I didn't gain on her at all. Still, I thought I should be able to maintain my position for the last two tenths of a mile. I glanced over my shoulder at the 6-mile marker, and didn't see anyone within striking distance.

Lesson 4: I need to finish stronger.

I tried to speed up in the last several hundred yards, but at least a dozen more people went past me -- and a handful of those were within the finish chute. I didn't know where they had come from, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. This is distressing: I used to be known for strong finishes...in fact, our old swim team slogan "We're Tough From the Flags In" was partly inspired by the fact that I always seemed to have that final burst of speed available. But not today, boss. Not today.

(OK, Lesson 4 is probably just a rephrasing of Lesson 2, but I'm still going to put it on my next motivational poster anyway.)

The good news is that I didn't injure myself. In fact, I felt like I held my form reasonably well even though I was slow. I'm sure no one mistook me for a real runner, but no one tried to escort me to the medical tent, either. I finished the entire 10K without walking, and did obtain a benchmark for assessing my fitness and speed at this point in the season.

Now I just need to incorporate my lessons into my training plan, and determine what my next competition will be. As soon as I figure that out, I will be sure to let you know. As always, my dear friends, I thank you for your continued support and encouragement. Have a great day!