The Need for Speed

Daytona International Speedway, home of the Superbowl of stock car racing, the Daytona 500, was my chosen venue for the inaugural test drive of my new leaner, stronger, faster body. I am exactly half way through a twelve week training program that will lead up to the Pump and Run 5k at the Arnold Fitness Expo in March.

I ran a baseline 5k six weeks ago to see where my fitness was with minimal running. The final result of 27 minutes and 29 seconds required some jacked up heartrates and some searing lung pain. And more than a few walk breaks to ease the pain. Today my strategy was different. Today my goal was to learn how to pace evenly in a race. To learn how to run the first mile conservatively, and then go all out at the end.

The morning started like every other race morning, with the alarm going off way too early. Race cars need special gasoline, runners need special caffeine. My high octane fuel of choice was freshly ground espresso beans with a crapload of pressurized water blasted into them, resulting in a fantastic double espresso. Knowing that the race conditions would be similar to my last 5k, low 40’s and clear, I donned my running tights and long sleeved drifit, gloves, and headband. I poured my Martinelli’s apple juice in a water bottle, and headed toward the birthplace of speed.

Of course, I initially went to the wrong parking lot and became entangled in a mess of traffic that was meant for the Rolex 24 hours car race, which would be starting later on. Good thing I left my house in plenty of time. I arrived at a parking lot that seemed miles and miles away from the race start. I envisioned a replay of the Disney Marathon, where it seems like you walk for at least 4 miles to earn your right to run the next 26.2. When I realized we would be taking the Disney-esque tram to the start line on Pit Road, I decided to pack a little bag with my post race nutrition. I also knew I would need a place to stash my race packet.

As the tram entered the speedway, I saw the steeply banked curve of the track, and remembered the joy I felt on the infield as I watched the 2004 Daytona 500 unfold right before my eyes. How those cars stay stuck up there on that bank is beyond my Physics 101 knowledge! I wondered how in the hell my body was going to take running up that bank, until I realized that, fortunately for my knees, the road race is run on the inner road course and not up on the banked tri-oval. Wheeew! Crisis avoided.

I picked up my packet, donned my timing chip, checked my bag, and proceeded to warm up. 40 degrees is cold until you start running! Unfortunately, I had forgotten my usual pre-race apple juice in the car, so I substituted my green algae post race spa drink instead. Felt like the right thing to do at the time, but there is a reason why wise runners advise never trying anything new on race day. Hmmm. The tummy upset during my warmup was not reassuring.

The race start was delayed just a bit, much to the dismay of more than 500 freezing runners. I didn’t really seed myself properly, and when the anthem was sung and the bell was rung, it took a while to get to the start. And for some reason, people were stopped and standing even past the race start line. HUH???

Well, I got loose from the crowd and settled into my pace. I had promised my strength coach that I wasn’t going to get gadget happy, and I stuck to my promise. I left the gowearfit at home. I had the iphone on my left arm. I had the garmin on my left wrist, but instead of wigging out to the little virtual pace dude like I did last race, I simply set a reasonable goal pace between an 8:30 and an 8:40 minute mile pace. as long as I was running in that range, the garmin would be happy and wouldn’t chirp at me. This range was large enough to account for reasonable race variation.

I was shocked at how easy the pace felt for the first mile. I would periodically look down at the garmin, and sure enough, I was running smack dab in the middle of my range. How could this be? I felt like I was out for an easy long run. But first miles of a 5k are coy like that. They trick you into thinking that all is well. They tease you into pushing that pace, and then pretty soon you are searching for that 3 mile marker, but it seems like it is 30 miles away. Only this time, I listened to my strength coach and I listened to my fast friend Brad from the track and decided to stay my nice even happy pace for mile 2. Mile 2 felt like a controlled tempo mile. Harder than long run pace, easier than track work. Soon, the mile 3 marker was upon me, and I picked it up just a little. By the last quarter mile, I realized that I was running a pretty conservative race, maybe too conservative, so I finally decided to wander into the pain cave.

As I approached the finish line, I was hurting too much to even realize that I was crossing the same line as the drivers cross when they win the Daytona 500. Legends like Richard Petty, Dale Earnhardt (senior and junior) , and my favorite bad boy, Tony Stewart. But there was no victory lane for me. No sponsor-induced spraying of the Pepsi. Only the poor chip boy who looked scared that I was going to hurl on him as he scissored the timing chip from my ankle.

But victory was mine. I looked at my garmin, and it said 26 minutes and 36 seconds, an 8:35 average pace per mile, smack dab in the middle of my range. I would later learn that my official chip time was 26 minutes and 48 seconds. And when I downloaded my Garmin heart rate data, I realized that my effort was, indeed, too conservative. Which makes the time that I achieved even sweeter. I am only 6 weeks into the first 5k training program of my entire running career, and I was almost a minute faster than my baseline, with an effort level that was SIGNIFICANTLY easier. I learned how to run an evenly paced 5k. Now I need to learn how to run a faster, evenly paced 5k.

As I soaked up the rising florida sun, munched my whole grain banana walnut muffin, and cheered my competitors at the awards, I realized something. I have developed the spirit of a competitor. I will never know what it feels like to race 3 wide on the bank of that tri-oval at 200 miles an hour, where the slightest deviation from focus could have disastrous consequences. But today, I learned what it felt like to pass one of my running friends, a friend who usually beats me easily, and to have her yell out, “you’re looking great Wendy keep it up!” In fact, it made me wonder if this is how Dale, Jr feels when one of his teammates gives him that extra little shove that edges him to victory. I felt the power of my friends today as I raced on that track. The power of all of my supporters, mentors, coaches, and teachers giving me that much needed shove to my own personal victory lane.