Last weekend I raced my third 5K of 2017, and while my experience during the actual 3.1 miles kind of stunk, for some mysterious reason I find myself still wanting to wax poetic about it. Don’t get me wrong, the race itself was great. I appreciated the fact that it was a larger 5K and that I felt some nice camaraderie with my fellow hoofers. It was well organized, the location and course were both good. It was a well designed loop, and I appreciated not having to go out and back as a change-up to my last two races. The post-race atmosphere was also fun. My performance, however, was the lackluster piece. I finished in 20:59, which isn’t terrible, it’s just not an improvement over last month’s time, really.
Perhaps it was a bad idea to hope for a larger improve at a race dubbed the No Luck Run, but hey, I gave it my all. Yesterday I ran the No Luck Irish Run 5K, and I while won’t say I had no luck, I think I’m realizing there is no luck to be had in the 5K’s, i.e. it comes down to blood, sweat, and tears (or at least sweat and possibly some tears). My official time was 21:01, which was a 6:47 pace, and a 16 second improvement over my February race. Was I hoping to knock down my time more than I did? Sure, but realistically I know I did the best I could. These two 5K’s have played out the same way: fast first mile, second mile probably where I’d want to be, shitty third mile. My splits from my watch from yesterday’s race were 6:28, 6:44, and 7:07. Ouch. While this race felt less worse than last month, that last mile was a struggle. I did end up as second place overall (which was also second place female), so that was a nice, fun bonus.
Yesterday I did want us runner-type people tend to do, which is to use the holiday (July 4th) as a reason to get up at 4:40 AM, fumble around in the dark for my running gear, drive an hour, stand for another hour in cold(ish) drizzle, wait for a loud horn to go off, and then attempt to run 3.1 miles as fast as I could. It’s been so long since I’ve raced a 5k that I honestly had forgotten what it should feel like, and goodness knows I have no clue what I would even consider a 5k PR at this point. I mean, hey, if you can’t remember your PR, you’re guaranteed to run a new one, right?
After I wrote yesterday’s race recap, I thought it would be interesting to take a peak at all the data I’ve gleaned from my trusty watch over the course of the past few months.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…or maybe in the world of racing, it’s the other way around. We have the bad race, we doubt ourselves, our training our abilities, and then we find the silver lining and register for something else.
Given this introduction, you can deduce that my race this past weekend did not go as well as I had hoped. I’m not completely surprised; I felt like I was going into this one a little more blind than I would have liked, and I wasn’t feeling very confident in the speed work I had done, or rather the speed work I hadn’t done when I was addressing the issue with my foot. I’m not sure if this was the reason I didn’t race as well as I thought I could/would, and honestly there were too many other variables surrounding race morning to know for sure. It could have simply been that the racing stars didn’t align for me, there were enough small snafus that my body couldn’t do what I wanted it to do.