I did the Icebreaker 10K yesterday and it went pretty well. I hadn't raced since last July and hadn't run a 10K in two years, so I was a bit apprehensive, but not nervous. I was looking to beat my age (44). Todd told me to take it easy for a kilometre or so and then settle into a strong pace. The gun went off, I started my IPod and away I went.
My first kilometre was 4:35 which was probably a bit too slow, but I wasn't to worked up about it. My next few kilometres were ten seconds or so faster (even going up the %^*^% hill). At the 5K mark I decided that I had better pick up the pace a bit if I was going to get to my time. This started to feel hard now as my pace was up to about 4:15 per kilometre. Because I started slow, I still wasn't going to make it without a big push in the last mile. At the mile sign I was 37:15. Yikes. I debated in my head for about ten seconds as to whether I horked up a lung to get under 44, or started to cruise. In the end I figured "what the heck!" and took off.
Across the 4th Street bridge I thought I was going to die -- but I didn't. Some lady in a bike wasn't looking where she was going; had no clue a race was on apparently; and turned right into a group of runners. At the last second she hit the brakes and we swerved by. That gave me just the right spike of adrenaline to make the turn onto Elbow Drive. But now I was at 42:45 and had to get all the way to that little green house. "Screw it" I said and sprinted as hard as I could. As I crossed the line I really felt like breakfast was about to be re-enacted, but I held on. Some guy tried to jump ahead of me in the shoot (rookie!), but I reclaimed my spot.
At the end of the run: 43:59!! That little debate in my head tuned out to be the right choice. I would have been disappointed to come in 44:15 or something.
I am going to have to do a few more of these so I can get better at them in time for Budapest.
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