Oak Hill Flyer

 
the waiting game began. the trouble was that i didn't know whether i was waiting to live or waiting to die.

i felt sluggish as we passed the picnic houses where i ripped a 15k five years ago. african drum bands played through the cold conditions; i forced a smile to them in hopes of convincing myself that i was okay. they reminded me of my peace corps friend aaron and how he finally got his boston time after years of trying. how did he feel at mile 15 of his run this year? probably better than me right now. still, i was on pace.

think of your running journals. think of your interval work. think of how much stronger you are than allentown right now. now that the rain has broke think of this glorious weather. just don't dare think about the distance right now. i focused on understanding the dilation of time, how our perceptions distort reality. i envisioned myself on a park bench watching myself run around the lake. on that bench the minutes just melt away into nothing; in this run it seems as if my blessed watch is broke.

i grew tired of the wet, muffled sound of the world; i rolled my beanie up to let my ears out to the open air. the change in the acoustics was nice, despite the chance that i looked a little odd.

7:08 - 7:10 - 7:11 (mile 16)

my left shoe cut into the top of my foot, creating an unwelcome distraction. not bad for two hours of forefoot work. i hadn't stopped since the start (even through a half-dozen pee breaks), but this warranted an exception; i could deal with this digging for another nine miles. i found a fence post and jimmied my shoe's tongue around for two seconds, starting back up before my body had a chance to stop.

swimming taught me that your best workouts come in intervals. in other words, 50 minutes of swimming is better than 60 minutes of swimming in a given hour if you time one-minute breaks properly. those two seconds adjusting my shoe felt like a huge gasp of air after having my head submerged for the past sixteen miles. and to think: nine miles to go! that's a single digit! my legs picked up the pace as if i had thirty seconds to make up from the shoe stop instead of two. it was hard to slow down.

coming into seventeen, i saw my coworker jen; she and i had the same goal heading into today but i was catching her fast. a brief verbal exchange confirmed my fear: she was in trouble. i gave her a quick word of encouragement and pressed forward.

in the ensuing mile, fear flinched. a space opened up on that park bench; i sat down and feasted on the view. i tossed my armwarmers aside; they lay on the ground like thrown gauntlets (quite the upgrade from what they were four hours' prior: dress socks with no toes). i felt LIGHT! oh so light--a lightness i can't begin to describe! and it happened so quickly. seven miles to go, perhaps? that's less than an hour--WAY less than an hour! gee, these trees are pretty. WHEEEE! i'm now alseep on that park bench as i pass runners left and right. i could run for ten, fifteen more miles like this! are we turning off the lake now? so soon?

i see a 200-lb man cheering me on. fist swinging, i cheer back. i looked him dead in the eye and YELLED back. i pictured throwing him over my shoulder and CARRYING him to the finish.

7:02 - 7:17 - 7:11 - 7:11 (mile 20)

fisher was waiting for me, ready for battle. serious fisher is when he greets me: "hang tough rich--i know you're falling apart inside, but just keep it together." i look at him with a dumb stupid grin: "hey buddy, good to see you. wanna run with me?" i almost wanted him to stay put, i felt so confident. 

the confidence was real AND i had fisher as a wingman: i had to talk him down from pistol-whipping me, lest i slip into 6:30 miles and play russian roulette with this finish. we twisted through the late hills and made nothing of it; to boot, my tracking had me one mile BEHIND where i actually was; i expected seven more minutes of climbing where there was in reality only downhill remaining. the final stretch down swiss ave reminded me of summit ave in twin cities with the trees, median and large houses. i laughed out loud when i saw the texas star one-half mile away. the finish got a little chaotic, but nothing worse than a crowded town lake. i heard k call my name; i roared through the finish with a victory cry.

7:19 - 7:17 - 7:08 - 7:09 - 7:12 - 7:00 - 2:02 (+0.3 miles)

3:09:22 chip time. 7:14/mi average.

Posted by OHF on 15 December 2011 at 21:33 | Permalink