Suffer Better : Downtown Mile Race Report

About 400m into our first lap.

My goal was to beat the two guys behind me.

Heart pounding. Lungs burning. Eyes bulging. Vision narrowing. Breathing labored. Am I going to able to maintain this pace? Have I gone into the danger zone? Have I bitten off more than I can chew?

No! I got this. Physically, I've been down this hole numerous times at the track and during interval reps on the road. Mentally, this doesn't even compare to the depths I've had to dig during every marathon I've ever run. This is a race and it's time to suffer better.

As a whole, the Speed River Inferno Downtown Mile was a fantastic experience. We had bright sunny skies and just enough cool in the air to make it an ideal evening for a race. The event had a nice, wholesome feel to it as there were loads of families and friends there to mill about, cheer, and even participate in the chillens 100m dash after the mile (including my #1 who got a late start due to a bib malfunction). The route was well-marked and marshaled, and plenty of fast people showed up sporting their running club or team singlets, which lead to an exciting race and a "photo" finish. As per usual for a local race in this town, we even had a couple olympians on hand as volunteers and spectators.

The race itself was awesome. Although, much of it is but a blur in my mind now. Rather than run for time, I decided to make it a race against competitors. Gathering at the start line I spotted two guys I was determined to beat. These weren't two randoms. No, these two had to go down for very specific reasons. The first fella (behind me in the blue singlet above), blew past me last fall after the first of two laps at the Falling Leaves cross-country 5K. He left a mark and I needed redemption. The second fella (behind me in the orange singlet), I'd seen over the past few weeks leading our club through intervals at the track while I did my own sessions. I needed to beat him just because.

As the gun went off and we streaked down the first straightaway (Carden Street), around the first and second bends, and up the "dreaded" hill (Gordon Street) I found myself right in the mix of the second pack of runners (top picture - the first pack were sub-5 minute milers). Most importantly, I was ahead of my two targets and I was determined not to let them pass at any cost. The race was on.

We rounded the last turn of the first lap and barrelled down Carden Street amongst the cheers of the crowd. As we approached the midway point, which also served as the finish line, I had passed two of the University of Guelph varsity girls pictured above and was closely trailing the third. But, more importantly, although I was totally locked-in and zoned-out, I picked up a faint "Go daddy!" from my left and knew it was number one cheering me on. With this extra bit of encouragement I was ready to dig in for the second and final lap despite the mounting discomfort of a near maximal effort.

We crossed the "halfway" point at the 2:45 mark, which was basically right on pace with what I thought I was capable of, but it left me a bit befuddled because it felt like we were moving faster than that. If I'm honest, it was eating at me. However, I didn't have much time to fester over it because as we rounded the left turn shortly after the line I clipped feet with the girl in front of me, which caused me to push out to the right, which caused more feet clipping with the guy behind me, who happened to be orange singlet man. At least I knew where he was. Not wanting the same thing to happen on the upcoming hard right hand turn just before the steep hill, I put in a quick surge (just like the training runs) to clear myself of the traffic.

As we hammered it up Gordon Street I had a brief sense of calm. It wasn't hurting as much as I had expected. The endurance I had built-up over the hundreds of runs during the previous months was paying off. I was putting some distance between myself and the group I had just surged away from. I was right where I wanted to be despite my slight disappointment with my midpoint time. I knew shortly at the top of the hill we'd have a gradual downhill and roughly only 400m left to go. I could use the downhill to catch my breath, and then give it everything I had.

Forget the folks behind me. I was after the guy ahead of me. After the downhill I had reeled him in to within a couple meters. As we rounded the last corner and headed into the final straight I spotted the finish line and the clock. Those racers who had just finished were either bent over at the knees gasping for air, or sprawled out on the ground in complete exhaustion. This is what the mile can do to you. The clock came into focus and it read 4:5something. There were guys legging it, arms flailing to get in under the 5-minute barrier. I couldn't manage to bring the guy in front of me any closer, but my time was looking pretty good.

I'd like to say the crowd was ushering me on, but everything had gone silent at this point. As it often does at the end of a race. It was just me, that finish line, and that clock. I crossed the line in 5:10. A pleasant surprise and a respectable time for my first mile. The first two finishers were separated by only .1 seconds (4:31.4 and 4:31.5). See below.

The dude on the right won.

I didn't have a massive negative split as my "halfway" time (2:45) and my finishing time (5:10) might suggest. There's no way I ran the second half of that race 20 seconds faster than the first. What I had failed to connect was our "halfway" split time included the Carden Street straightaway at the beginning, which took me about 19 seconds according to the race photos. So, in reality I was right to think we were moving much faster than the clock read at the halfway point because we were, and it was actually the halfway plus a little bit point.

I wasn't bent over or sprawled out on the ground gasping for air at the finish, so I think I may have left a few seconds out on the road. Guelph Lake 5K up next this coming weekend.