Ladies,
It was a cool summer morning, a little humid but with a dead calm wind and clear skies, it promised to be a fine day for a 5k.
We were represented by four runners - Alli, Keeley, Chelsea, and Chelsey. For the first three, this race was supposed to be a non-race, that is, a steady effort, more like a tempo. I changed my plans slightly (okay, significantly) when Keeley didn't have a watch. Alli is a senior, wore a watch, and is an experienced runner. I knew she'd be okay to handle her own race (and would also very much like to do so). Keeley has been a mustang since she's run with us, so I decided my time would be best spent trying to drive a point home.
My buddy Jon was there, and he had a Garmin. His plan was to run in the 21-22 range, starting at 7:15 pace. While this pace is a lot faster than I would have had Keeley go on her own, let's face it... she would never have done that anyway. She would have jetted out with the front of the race. I wanted to set an aggressive pace, watch what happened in the middle, then try to pull her through it. It would be tough on her, but I knew she could handle it.
The plan was upset by Jon's inability to control himself. I knew in the first 200-400 yards we were going way too fast. When he finally did sneak a peak at his Garmin I asked, "Going faster than your pace, eh?". I could see the grin on his face as he twisted back. Turns out he was at 6:08! He hit the brakes to adjust his pace, and as we caught him, I could see he'd overadjusted. We had to leave him.
By the time we got to Old 37 the early pace was starting to take it's death grip on Keeley. When I couldn't get her to glide downhill anymore, I knew she was hurting. Still I pushed her. This situation will happen to every racer (if they race enough), Keeley more often than others because of the way she races... even when you're hurting like this, you have to maintain form. Keep the stride open. Get the arms away from your chest, move them. You don't push off your foot harder, but you keep the stride open. It takes a lot of discipline, but it can save your race.
After the turn, we could see Alli closing. She'd been far better at setting her pace, and Keeley's collapse was creating an opportunity. I was torn. On the one hand, my competitive spirit wanted her to try and catch, but the coach knew she needed to keep doing what she was doing. It was the 85% effort I told her to do. It was great discipline for her to stay on plan.
I had turned back to talk to Alli, though with no intention of staying with her. It's not that I wouldn't have - if it would have helped, I would - but Alli doesn't want or need me to run beside her talking her through a race. In fact, her time would have been hurt by her bending over to pick up rocks to throw at me. No, better to run back up to Keeley, who had dropped away from Jon, the man she was supposed to follow.
This last mile had quite a few rollers. They weren't big hills, but they came at just the wrong time. The effect was to spike the heart rate, which at a high effort level can be deadly. Try as I might, as hard as I cracked the whip, nothing was going to make Keeley run the downhills any harder. I've seen this look over and over in races. Things were hurting pretty bad.
After we crossed Old 37 the final time we were left with around 3/8's of a mile, mostly a slow downhill glide to the finish. With one 90 degree turn to a straightaway, it was time to go if we were going to catch Jon. I tried pulling, I tried running alongside, I tried everything short of kicking Keeley in the pants, but she was all-out already. So I kicked to get to Jon.
I pulled alongside him with around 50 yards to go. He looked at me and said, "You're not going to pass me NOW?!" A pang of guilt struck me. Sure, I would mess with him all the way in, but in the end, he was going to get the nod. I started bumping and pushing him, culminating in a windmill-slapping affair, then I stepped behind him.
Keeley came in behind, 23:29 was the time I had for her, 2nd female overall. Alli came in shortly behind, slightly over 24:00, a very solid effort for 4th female. Next came Chelsea, who out-dueled the next female finisher for 7th female overall, and 25:59. Finally, Chelsey was finishing side-by-side with a boy. The boy was getting the lean, but he kept looking at her, twisting his head to see her face. That told me all I needed to know.
"Kick him! He's finished! Kick him!", I yelled. It might not have been very nice, but it was true. She kicked, he tried to respond, and she wore him down, stepping through just ahead of him. Sweet. And good for 9th female.
So our breakdown:
It was a cool summer morning, a little humid but with a dead calm wind and clear skies, it promised to be a fine day for a 5k.
We were represented by four runners - Alli, Keeley, Chelsea, and Chelsey. For the first three, this race was supposed to be a non-race, that is, a steady effort, more like a tempo. I changed my plans slightly (okay, significantly) when Keeley didn't have a watch. Alli is a senior, wore a watch, and is an experienced runner. I knew she'd be okay to handle her own race (and would also very much like to do so). Keeley has been a mustang since she's run with us, so I decided my time would be best spent trying to drive a point home.
My buddy Jon was there, and he had a Garmin. His plan was to run in the 21-22 range, starting at 7:15 pace. While this pace is a lot faster than I would have had Keeley go on her own, let's face it... she would never have done that anyway. She would have jetted out with the front of the race. I wanted to set an aggressive pace, watch what happened in the middle, then try to pull her through it. It would be tough on her, but I knew she could handle it.
The plan was upset by Jon's inability to control himself. I knew in the first 200-400 yards we were going way too fast. When he finally did sneak a peak at his Garmin I asked, "Going faster than your pace, eh?". I could see the grin on his face as he twisted back. Turns out he was at 6:08! He hit the brakes to adjust his pace, and as we caught him, I could see he'd overadjusted. We had to leave him.
By the time we got to Old 37 the early pace was starting to take it's death grip on Keeley. When I couldn't get her to glide downhill anymore, I knew she was hurting. Still I pushed her. This situation will happen to every racer (if they race enough), Keeley more often than others because of the way she races... even when you're hurting like this, you have to maintain form. Keep the stride open. Get the arms away from your chest, move them. You don't push off your foot harder, but you keep the stride open. It takes a lot of discipline, but it can save your race.
After the turn, we could see Alli closing. She'd been far better at setting her pace, and Keeley's collapse was creating an opportunity. I was torn. On the one hand, my competitive spirit wanted her to try and catch, but the coach knew she needed to keep doing what she was doing. It was the 85% effort I told her to do. It was great discipline for her to stay on plan.
I had turned back to talk to Alli, though with no intention of staying with her. It's not that I wouldn't have - if it would have helped, I would - but Alli doesn't want or need me to run beside her talking her through a race. In fact, her time would have been hurt by her bending over to pick up rocks to throw at me. No, better to run back up to Keeley, who had dropped away from Jon, the man she was supposed to follow.
This last mile had quite a few rollers. They weren't big hills, but they came at just the wrong time. The effect was to spike the heart rate, which at a high effort level can be deadly. Try as I might, as hard as I cracked the whip, nothing was going to make Keeley run the downhills any harder. I've seen this look over and over in races. Things were hurting pretty bad.
After we crossed Old 37 the final time we were left with around 3/8's of a mile, mostly a slow downhill glide to the finish. With one 90 degree turn to a straightaway, it was time to go if we were going to catch Jon. I tried pulling, I tried running alongside, I tried everything short of kicking Keeley in the pants, but she was all-out already. So I kicked to get to Jon.
I pulled alongside him with around 50 yards to go. He looked at me and said, "You're not going to pass me NOW?!" A pang of guilt struck me. Sure, I would mess with him all the way in, but in the end, he was going to get the nod. I started bumping and pushing him, culminating in a windmill-slapping affair, then I stepped behind him.
Keeley came in behind, 23:29 was the time I had for her, 2nd female overall. Alli came in shortly behind, slightly over 24:00, a very solid effort for 4th female. Next came Chelsea, who out-dueled the next female finisher for 7th female overall, and 25:59. Finally, Chelsey was finishing side-by-side with a boy. The boy was getting the lean, but he kept looking at her, twisting his head to see her face. That told me all I needed to know.
"Kick him! He's finished! Kick him!", I yelled. It might not have been very nice, but it was true. She kicked, he tried to respond, and she wore him down, stepping through just ahead of him. Sweet. And good for 9th female.
So our breakdown:
- Keeley - 7:33 pace
- Alli - 7:50 pace
- Chelsea Scott - 8:22 pace
- Chelsey Schofield - 8:29 pace
In comparing these paces, let's remember some key points:
- Keeley was racing all-out. I know for a fact Keeley was. If that girl could have kicked with me at the end, she would have. She was at the limit. She wanted to beat me. So. Bad.
- Alli and Chelsea ran a time comparable to our tempos on the track, which were of course flatter than the course we ran today. Alli told me from the start she was planning on a 7:45-8:00 pace. Looks like she stuck to it. Chelsea was set up for 8:15. Smart races, both of you.
- I don't know how much running Chelsey has been doing this summer - we've missed her! However, she had nice finish at the end, meaning she wasn't all-out.
If you do summer races, don't expect October times. We aren't there yet! Expect a solid effort, a "harder-than-daily-run" effort. Tempo level. Hard, but not all-out. You get the point. The great times will come later in the cycle. We're setting the stage with our running over the summer. Patience, it will come.