Race Recap: Hot Summer Nights #1

Alright, I wouldn't really call this a race for me, as cocky as that sounds. I am not ready mentally or physically to race. This is a test effort.

Or that is what I kept telling myself.

running is better with friends. 

I'm not ready to be racing. At least I didn't think I was. I'm not. I'm so far behind in shape... I don't know what shape they would even call me. And day to day it could be different. Consistency has been lacking and I am finally finishing a month of running. I have taken days off, but have been active in other ways on those days. So I've been in and out. No speed work, just runs. Hilly runs, yes, but just some running. Hopefully a half an hour at least. It depends on how my body feels.

I promised to run with a friend to help him try to break the major barrier of 20 minutes.

To be honest, I had no idea if I could even break twenty. I could at least get him through the first two miles, it was going to be that last one that would be a difficult one.

John and I at mile 1. 

Others even questioned if I could run it. Thanks, real nice support. Not looking for criticism. Just needed to believe I could run two miles.

Two miles. I could do that. Two miles. 6:26 per mile is break 20 minutes. Or really, it is right at 20. All I had to do was push. It was going to be hard, but that's what makes it worth it right?

That's something I had been lacking recently. Well more than recently, try the last year or so. Maybe just less. I forgot what it was like to run and feel running pain. The tough stuff, you know, the burning lungs, the labored breath, the lactic acid filling in your legs. That running hurts. Bad. But it is so good. It's pushing beyond the pain and into the ever-cliche euphoria of the beauty of running. The mixture of loneliness and companionship, the pain and the spirit, the agony and the achievement.

The crowd moved forward and I had to duck and weave between little kids and seasoned vets. My mind, though foggy and cobwebbed, felt familiar feelings, and so did my legs. The heavy and dead feeling quickly were thrown away as I forced myself to quicken. But instead of what I had once thought as quick, short strides, lots of times, I lengthened and floated, but quick, pretty. Or what I thought was pretty. It's how we used to run strides in high school, just run pretty. And then run fast. It was all the same. I went back. I went back to when it was simple, when I had fallen in love with all that is running. I went back to when I just enjoyed all of it. When it wasn't arduous or taxing. It just was.

Mile one passed and John asked me how we were doing. We were slow, but I said we were fine, and I started to pick it up. You always want to settle in that second mile, but it really should be attacked at least a little. Downhill mostly and I smiled my way past the water station. Afraid of knocking all the water off the table, I said thanks and kept going. John was dropping and I was trying to encourage and coax him to keep going, we could still break twenty, but we were going to have to work.

The third mile is uphill, so I trudged up, knowing John would be ok on his own. I pushed. I pushed and tried to keep my breath moving forward. Actually I was trying to remember to breathe. I talked to those around me, not trying to get into their heads, rather, stay out of mine! Trying not to over think.I got to the top of the hill and there was no way I would break twenty. Which at this time last year I would have already been finished. But that is ok. I'm ahead of where I was six months ago. And that is what matters, I am moving forward.

Racing to the finish line I felt speed I hadn't had for so long. I almost caught at least two more, but not quite. I didn't break twenty. No where close really, but I did better than I had expected, and the others too. If I go out a little quicker, who knows. I know I can run that far now. Looking back, I ran my last mile faster than my high school PR. So there is at least some hope.

There are still two more races. Two more chances. Two more test efforts.

Thank you to the Hot Summer Nights and Trifusion. You do so much for our sport!