Being a mid-packer in much of anything has never really been my thing. Neither has been bringing up the rear nor leading the charge. I seem to do fine solidly in the upper third. In most things. 

Basic Skills tests as a kid…..think they went up to 99%.  I hit a couple upper 90% and the rest solid low 90s%. ACT–what was the top back then….32?  I was solid upper 20’s.  180 days of school each year? I missed 3.5 days total for grades 9-12. Two of them recovery for knee surgery! Ok, that probably put  me in the ranks of the upper few.  A, B, and C squads for basketball…I bounced between B and A. JV and Varsity Track–mostly varsity till big-big meets then the coaches wanted to load up the Fresh-Soph teams and take overall wins so I landed back down with my class.  Class rank? Certainly not Ivy League material. 

After two full weeks of rest, mostly (ok, solely) brought on by my triennial illness I estimated that on a couple days of loosening jogs I could trick the body into what I’ve done so many times. Line up, head down and grind through a fast, relatively short, urban course on a near perfect day.  It wouldn’t be my day. 

Running as an adult for me was meant as a way to forget a girl, loose some weight and meet some people in a new city and state. Riding a bike was meant as a way to keep my roommate company…and serve as a safe way to get home from all the girl chasing at the local beach clubs. Turns out that top-third (and then some) magic came back after a few months. After nearly twenty years covering five states and dozens (hundreds?) of events it seems that edge may be permanently gone. 

For me, finishing in-the-money over the years had compounding benefits. Beginning with those smallish, local beach events nearly twenty years ago I started feeling better, looking better, accumulating awards and actually caring! The caring led to training harder which led to feeling better and even better results. Coach-less, club-less and clueless I kept chugging along following tips from my roommate until I changed states and started up with a new set of partners. Personal bests continued to fall even as I entered my 30’s and without the benefit of selecting odd-ball distances.

Shameless USAT Promotion With Abdi

Our pre-event prep was top-notch. Meeting up with an acquaintance from Tucson who happened to be in town to run was, of course, the highlight. Perhaps because we hadn’t seen him since Amy’s pre-wedding night out…..ok, probably because it’s always cool to chat it up with a four-time Olympian! We spent some time catching up with Abdi then feeling bad ignoring his partner for the night, we chatted up Molly Huddle as well. So young; she’ll have a few more Olympic moments in her career. What a nice gal. Final best wishes to Molly and Abdi and we headed down the road to packet pickup then to the a rather unique pre-run dinner of fish-n-chips at Eamonn’s in Old Town. What a great night!

Sunrise Over the Potomac at Race Start

Once I landed in Iowa, thirteen years ago, which stands as the longest stretch in a a single location I’ve spent, I finally about reached my peak. Due entirely to the the training regimen employed by The SCRC. Toss in a divorce which results in defying age and injury for an extra couple of years I felt nearly invincible whenever I laced up and headed out the door. I didn’t feel it’d ever end, even after the bests were behind me. Speed gone I started racing off-road and longer distances; in some cases much longer. And doing ok–maintaining well into a top-third range. It was never going to end. Until it did.

I stopped really warming up before events some time ago. Maybe as long as 2-3 years. I’m not going fast enough to hurt anything and it just sapped more of my limited energy. I tried some slow strides, jogs, bends and stretches before the 12k started. For the first time in ages we were significantly early to an event. Every bend and movement hurt–the bad knee. Even after two full weeks of nothing it still sends out a sharp, biting spark as if a track-spike were being quickly slapped onto the knee.  Before the gun went off I knew it was not going to be my day. I tucked in the 7-8 corral, easily manageable I truly felt.  I’m finding one of the nicest benefits for me of being a mid-packer is actually thoroughly enjoying sights and sounds around me throughout a race. All of the first mile ran alongside the Potomac with the sun still rising. Beautiful. As we turned west and headed up one of only a few moderate slope increases I knew I was in trouble. Less than two miles in on a chilly morning and without top-speed pace I was beginning to sweat out and my heart rate felt as if it was peaking. Clearly no fitness to burn and the alternating dull and nauseating sharp knee pain was already back.

Post-Race: Coffee & Grilled Cheese!!

This week I started another series of hyaluronan injections. On the left knee for this round. I’m not satisfied with the results on the other knee—-I hope I had something to do with it (bad patient) and when I’m eligible for another round I’ll promise to be a better patient. I certainly don’t want to be on the table a fourth time.

I’ve said multiple times the best thing about slowing down is slowing down. Old Town Alexandria is beautiful; thousands of people every year make it a vacation destination. Historical markers, monuments and character filled walk-ups dot most streets. To be able to hop the train or  a bike and be there in a few minutes is an amazing opportunity for a small town midwestern guy. As we continued to wind through town my miles continued to slow while my heart rate stabilized at a rate 10% higher than that of my better marathons. Somewhat thin yet enthusiastic crowds pushed me through the increasing discomfort of the final couple of miles. So happy to be finished I’ll still take credit for a personal best in the odd 12k distance.

Molly Huddle After Her World Best 12k

A full 13% of the field ran under 6 minute pace. Blistering. Perhaps I should feel better about slipping just a couple percentage points out of the top third in both my age group and overall. Tricking my body into much of anything is about out of the question. To face a battle just to get into the top third feels absurd. Those battles used to be reserved for cracking the top 6-8%, not top third. I have a much more well rounded view of how it feels to fall within sight of the mid-packers. It’s not all bad, in fact in this particular case I can say my performance allowed me to beat Abdi~~ that’ll be a once-and-done feat! Of course he had a bit of a handicap; rounding the corning and coming down the bridge at the 5.5 mile mark he crashed–face-planted in fact. When we saw him in the VIP tent afterwards his left cheek was swollen to twice normal and he was still sporting an ice pack on his right wrist. I asked if he was done for the season. In his normally cheery way he said, ‘Oh no, I still have more to do this season. I’ll just be a little sore doing it.’ What a great guy.

AniMal