Interesting post on PEDs in ultrarunning.
Apparently, you can be pretty zippy post 40 at 5k. And even faster at 49.
Pikes Flatlander Training. (registration is next week)
I didn’t realize it at first, but about half way through my run-workout today, I began to think I might be running in the shirt that currently sits as the oldest one I have in the drawer.
So … with that, a memory or two bubbles up. This shirt has a bit of a sting associated with it, but maybe a good lesson as well.
This shirt comes from the year I graduated high school and specifically the Class Championship meet. CIAC is Connecticut Interscholastic Athletic Conference, and my school was specifically a class L school that year.
Before I discuss the Class L meet and what I learned there, I need to back up a bit. My senior year of track I was running the 3200 as my primary event. In retrospect, I was not anything particularly special, but since I was dancing near or under the ten minute mark I was enjoying a fair amount of success in the dual meets in our conference – the CCC (Central Connecticut Conference) East. In fact, I think going into our last dual meet, I was undefeated in conference meets. I had been handily worked in the larger conference meets, but I had suddenly did that “step up” where I could hold my own in most races. Sure, there were other kids in the mile, or even the 5k that I knew could take me out (namely the Kitteridge kid from Rockville who was running about 4:15 for the mile) but I did okay in my event, the near two mile.
Our last dual meet was on our home track at SWHS. Our track was what would now be considered “old school” or even what some would call dirt. It was a crushed cinder, a bit behind some of the newer tracks of Rubkor. This meet was against a border town rival, Manchester. Manchester, a bigger school, was one that we had battles against in Wickham Park in XC. Toeing the line was for their red and white was a sophomore waif of kid named Todd Liscomb, and Sean Tolland who was about as solid as me.
Not much to speak of that race other than they sat on me for the first mile, made the itsy bitsy of moves and I broke like a house of cards. I was not used to guys being able to challenge me in dual meets like that and I was not ready for the affair of fighting off two guys who wanted it a bit more. I walked from the finish line with my first loss in a dual meet (I think) that season, a bit more than pissed … at myself.
So a week or ten days so later, it was conference meet time. Based on times, I had the number one seed but Liscomb and Tolland were slotted two and three. Wearing the gold and maroon of SWHS, and under the lights of Windham HS, the 3200 was the second to last event of the night.
As we lined up, something occurred that I will probably never forget. Bill Baron, who was the coach of East Hartford High – looked us up and down and approached me. He quietly said with a grin, “okay George, show us how this is done.” I heard it and I knew the guys next to me heard it. I gave him a little grin but I certainly was not as confident in myself as his statement seemed to be in me. I knew Liscomb and Tolland heard it but I did not look at them.
And then we were off. In a moment of intelligence and race wisdom that I have been challenged to show since, I held back. Liscomb and Tolland ripped through the 800 in just under 2:20. I was ten seconds back with a couple of other guys between me and them. I knew that the pace was not right – and told myself that if those guys were going to run 70 seconds a lap, they were indeed better than me that day and deserved to win. I was not ready for that.
I can still almost feel and see every step of that run. The people on the side line. The uneasy confidence I had that even though those guys continued to edge away. Hearing my coach, Bob Lebreche, telling me to relax my hands and me thinking he was totally not connected. My team mates from the other events cheering me on. The slow grow dull ache of the pain in my legs and lungs as I went through the mile at just a tick or two over five minutes, that grew with each step.
At about 350 meters to go, I caught Tolland. About 200 meters to go, I caught Liscomb – he was done from the early pace - and I ran as hard as I could to the finish. I knew I had the win, but I did not want to leave anything to a fight to the line. I came in right at a click or two above 10 minutes. I was conference champ – only one of two from our school (the other was Tim Sanquidst who had won the triple jump and would go on to get a DI scholarship for football to Syracuse). It was a bit surreal for me. I had been a bit of an oddball kid, and certainly not considered an athlete. I mean, I had stolen second base with someone on it in Little League. In other game, a pop fly had hit me in the forehead when I had missed it in right field. Don’t even bring up hoops or football attempts.
Okay, got all that? In case you could not tell, it was a bit of a big moment at that point in my seventeen year something life. I had worked for something, sacrificed for it, executed well and … well, won. I say that sheepshishly now, as I again, I know there were dudes on the sideline that could have left me in the dust.
But back to the t-shirt above.
See, this race I just described left me set up for a total failure the following week at the Class L meet. Different dudes, different day but still a 3200 meter run and 400m oval. But, after that success, I left the “breath” go, and exhaled. I let my guard down and … faded badly. I think rather than running near 10 flat, I ran closer to 10:40 and did not qualify for the state meet. And in a backward sort of way, I did not really care. But I learned something. Frankly that a kick in the ass, and coming off failure sets me up better for future success than success itself.
Okay, stroll down memory lane over.
Today, I snuck in a workout at the local track between sessions at the piano competition for the kids. And, just to be clear, today’s intervals were slower than what I managed for nearly two miles outright two dozen years ago. After 2 mile warm up (136th, Main to HS track), I got to work with an oldie but goodie: 6 x 800, 1 minute rest with the 800s at an effort slightly faster than 5k pace. In the old Owen Anderson literature I used to follow, I’d do these at about 4-5 seconds faster 800 than 5k average mile pace. So, if I was going to run say 16:40 for a 5k, that would be 2:40 pace per 800 – so the workout would say do them at 2:35. My current 5k pace is probably near 5:45 per mile (I hope), so anything better than 2:50 per half here would have been nice. The 1 minute is enough to walk for about 30 yards after each one before getting back to work. These workouts are about as much mental discipline as they are actually doing the work. 2:47, 2:48, 2:47, 2:47, 2:48, 2:44. Ugh – nuthin’ stellar there but it was work, and fwiw, there was a 8-15 mph breeze out of the north (backstretch).
After a bio break, and a mile jog, I tacked on 6 200s with a 200 walk jog (no concern on recovery here). 37, 38, 37, 37, 36, 35. Work to be done on general turn over. 10 miles on the day.
I did something (not running directly) that caused it to spasm a bit the other day and it is a little angry. Little concerned about the big run tomorrow, but we’ll see how that goes.
Got this email – literally seconds before we were hitting the door to head to KZ’s swimming lesson.
