Race Recap - USATF XC Club Nats

Photo Courtesy of Michael Scott

USATF XC Club National Championships
December 10, 2011 - Jefferson Park Golf Course - Seattle, WA


Before getting into the race experience recap (and for those that didn't read my pre-race post), I'll preface this by talking about the approach I had for this race in an effort to give you the full effect of my experience. It started less than two weeks ago when I booked my travel and actually decided I would be racing. Despite not having the training consistency I would normally want going into a national championship race, I knew there was much more I could gain from this experience than just a great race. With that said, if any of you have debated attending this race, I strongly suggest throwing out any doubts you have and make the trip whenever possible. This was my fifth time attending this championship event and it continues to be one of the best experiences of my yearly schedule. Once I reminded myself of this and committed to racing, I allowed myself to start thinking about it as more than just a fun experience and approach it as a real race, at least on the mental side of preparation. You really don't have any other choice in this type of field because if you don't give it the proper respect, you'll struggle to survive the demanding task and find yourself in the finishing chute wondering what just happened. I allowed myself to make an estimate of what a good-great race would be at this time. With not much more than a gut feeling after years of gauging my own fitness, I came up with 32:00 and top 100. I only half believed I could do that, but stuck with it mostly because anything further back would be difficult for me to accept, even if it was where my fitness was at.

In typical pre-race fashion, the anxious excitement and nervousness started once I finished my work responsibilities for the week and began the travel to Seattle. Not yet thinking about the race itself, but just priming the body with the nerves of knowing that a big task was getting close. I had a late flight into Seattle on Thursday and got to the hotel around midnight. This made for a quick time change adjustment and allowed me to sleep in easily the next morning. Friday was a traditional pre-race day that didn't involve many activities, any of which were catered around the task of getting to the race venue, allowing a preview of the course which would soon play host to this demanding task I was there to do. I would go to the course in the afternoon with some of my former teammates, so we spent a good portion of the morning in the Pike Place Market with a relaxing breakfast looking over the Sound and casually wandering through the famous fish market.

Still feeling very relaxed, I went to Jefferson Park in the afternoon to conduct the almost necessary and very beneficial task of jogging the race course. Nervous excitement continued to build as I ran the course in it's 10 kilometer entirety. Still not letting myself think too much about the race itself and the grueling demands that were now only hours away. This time spent on the course was intended for learning all I could about the course, also gauging how the body was feeling, and maybe allowing small segments of visualization in preparation for decisions that could certainly come up in a race situation. Decisions that when dealt with appropriately could produce a great race. Likewise, the cumulative poor decisions could take that great race away from you. Such seemingly small things such as how you might come into a sharp turn in a dense pack, where you might benefit from a surge, what the surface would be like after several thousand footsteps had traveled the same narrow track, and dozens more of the like. All of this done in addition to making a few mental cues that you could reference in the race to remind yourself of what you're there to do. For those that haven't put themselves to this kind of a test, you may think it impossible to forget what the task is while you're actually doing it, but 10,000 meters is a long way to tolerate the necessary discomfort which can often make you forget what you're there to do. In some sense, it may even be a defense mechanism in your mind, one that competitive runners benefit from ignoring. These kinds of lapses are the most common cause for post race regret. Something none of us want to deal with, but every one of us have in our careers. As I finished with this very important pre-race ritual, I then forced myself to stop thinking about all those things and not give in to the adrenaline that was beginning to spread through my body. It was much too early for that. The rest of the evening was spent with friends and old teammates, fully enjoying the buzz that surrounds an event like this and keeping the mind busy, only half remembering that task that was getting closer and closer. This pre-race regimen was something I haven't done a lot of lately, but after many years of racing and figuring it out, I had no trouble managing the nerves and emotions to the extent that would give me the greatest benefit come race time. With that, I had no trouble getting to sleep that night and woke up knowing I had done it all right.

Photo Courtesy of Michael Scott

Race day had now arrived and it was time to make myself race ready. Race tactics were now able to enter my mind for the purpose of feeling ready and building that desire to get the most out of myself. In an almost masochistic way, I was really looking forward to the inevitable discomfort I would find myself in and just how much of it I could endure in a span of 32 minutes. It's an indulgence that not everyone has and I had not given into nearly enough in this past year. I was an addict and I needed my fix.  The conditions on the course were cold and damp, the kind of conditions that go right through you.  It would take a full 30 minute warm up to shake this feeling. I felt I was probably there too early and let myself get too cold, but it certainly didn't deter me from the task. As I warmed up, I spent a large amount of time thinking about the start. Knowing I would not be contending for as high a place as previous years, I accepted that I would be heavily surrounded by runners and would have to manage it appropriately. With a quick bottleneck, the objective of getting through that first half mile cleanly was a large concern of mine.  Fortunately, as an unattached runner I was given a big advantage of being assigned to box 50 which was on the far right hand side and had the most direct line of sight to that bottleneck. And with very few runners to my right, I could run alongside the pack and plug myself in wherever I felt was appropriate. There was still the normal spike of adrenaline and corresponding climbing heart rate that you get with this type of a race, but there was never a feeling of panic or distress that I was fearing previously. I made it through the first hard turn cleanly and in the position I wanted. I could now start settling in and force myself to relax a bit for fear of blowing it all in the first mile. I know I can handle the first 600 meters at that fast pace without throwing the race away, but pushing it any further than that could be risky.

Photo Courtesy of Runnerspace

Feeling like I was out of trouble in about 60-70th place, and passing 1K in just under 3:00, I began allowing quite a few runners to pass me as the task at hand was now to run through these first two miles feeling as relaxed as possible and no longer worrying about that initial position. With so many people still surrounding me, my heart rate and breathing still felt pretty high as it was still necessary to be alert around every turn and make smart movements. It's been quite some time since I've been in such a massive pack of runners, probably since my first couple years of college at an NCAA regional meet. I knew it would eventually thin out, but would stay tightly packed for quite some time. Just before we reached the start line again, there was a tight turn coming off the gravel path that would throw you into a now mud covered and very slick slope. The natural instinct of cutting to tangents and hugging the inside fence line was difficult and quite risky in such a pack. In this first entry to this turn, I was on the inside and getting a bit nervous. A few women had told me after their race to go wide on the turns as they saw several runners go down on the inside. It was not as much a concern for the fall itself, but for the hundreds of spiked runners that were close behind. About 20-30 meters before the turn, someone behind me yelled to the runners ahead, "careful guys!" as a reminder of what was quickly approaching. Coming off the gravel, I quickly felt the soft slick surface below my feet. I had to side step around the post in a half hopping like motion while putting all efforts on digging my right spike into the mud in a frantic effort to stay up and keep from being thrown into the pack of runners on my left. My 3/8" needles have never been tested or trusted more. I made it around that turn clean but knew there were 2 more just like it within the next 50 meters. I quickly made my way to the other side of the track to run on the outside edge. I went around the next two turns which was more like one continuous turn, running very wide. Though I was less worried about hitting runners on my left, I was rather disappointed to feel the same difficulty maintaining speed around the turn and still having to really dig on that right foot and use the left leg as more of a lateral brake, trying to limit the movement in the outer direction that centripetal force was dragging me into. We were now back at the starting field. Finally, the stress of lap one was behind me.  This was the first of five 2K loops.

Photo Courtesy of Runnerspace

I knew each lap would become easier in terms of navigating through the traffic, but of course, each additional lap would add the effect of compounded fatigue eventually testing each runner more and more with each circuit. I came through the 2K mark in about 6:12, a brisk pace that I was reasonably confident I would not maintain. The next lap was less memorable as I let myself key on very few and very simple tasks. Things like breathing. And maybe focusing on the back of a singlet. I came through 3K at about 9:28. None of these K splits were particularly meaningful to me because I was just focused on feeling a sense of control in my energy output, and never letting up on that effort level. Though I wasn't particularly concerned with the splits, I allowed myself to glance just the same and knew without any calculations that these were quick enough splits, thinking to myself "so far so good." I don't recall looking at the 4K clock, but with 2 laps down, I now made a constant effort to hold position. I didn't have to move up, but just don't slide back any further than I already had. 5K came along and I passed in about 15:55. At this point, racing was in full effect. Still not worried about gaining positions, but would gladly take any that came back in the process.  As 6K approached, I knew it was getting to the most important part of the race.  I allowed myself to just sit tight and wait a little longer. At least until after the slight uphill at the next turn. I had tried pressing on that hill on previous laps, but felt like it was just a waste of energy on the soft and slippery slope. The hill came and went and I forced myself to start moving up, picking out at least 10-15 guys ahead of me that I would commit to racing against. For some of them, I would be unsuccessful in catching. But regardless of how many I could or could not catch, there would be a continuous re-evaluation of the next 10 guys ahead of me. This was probably the best part of my race and proved to be the most productive.

Photo Courtesy of Michael Scott

I completed the 4th lap, now passing through 8K in about 25:50. I was pleased with where I was in the race and how I was handling the test my body was facing. I was definitely feeling it though. I was at a point in the race where I wasn't sure if things would get better, worse, or stay the same. 2K was still a long distance left to race.  As I came up over that small hill and running towards the Cascades, I rounded that next turn and ran along the back side of the golf course. I remember thinking that I was moving well and was passing a few guys pretty quickly.  Shortly after this (maybe around 8.5K), I remember doing a gut check and thinking about that desire to really test myself today.  It was at this point that I thought to myself, "this isn't hurting enough". I had no idea what I had left in the tank but regardless, I started to increase the effort just a notch at a time until I eventually felt like I was just shy of red-lining. I reached that level around 1200m to go and just had one thought from there on. "Hold it. Hold it. Hold it." Over and over in my head. Now about 800m to go, I was getting that tight burn in the upper hamstrings and glutes. The oh so familiar end of a race burn. I welcomed it gladly now on a slight down hill and noticeably picking up momentum.  I was approaching the dreaded turns that I discussed previously.  With about 550-600m to go, I had no desire to let up and lose this momentum. Still repeating in my head, "Hold it now. Just hold it". I hit the turn and the slope with a slight stumble but was still moving well.  I went to the inside of the next turn knowing it would throw me wide for the one immediately following.  With less runners around me, I figured it would be manageable with the freedom to use the entire width of the course.

My legs were getting weak but I could see the final straight away that would soon reveal the finish line. With a big exhale, I put my head down and stepped hard in that direction off the last turn. It was at that point I quickly felt a different sensation. The general tightness and fatigue in my legs were becoming more focused on one side. Almost like a pinching sensation, I felt the back of my right hamstring starting to snag.  Each following extension would cause it to catch a little sooner and the resulting sharp pain would get more localized. "DAMN IT!" ...I'm not sure if I actually said it out loud or just in my head, but it was certainly a realization that I would not be finishing this race the way I had planned. I quickly let the guys I was previously battling with to pull away. I was checking each step to measure the situation appropriately.  The more aware I became of what was going on, the more I slowed down. I don't think I had slowed down as much as it seemed, but the fight for position was over and I was letting my leg dictate the pace. This would bring that coasting into a moderate jog over the last 300-400 meters. Just covering ground as effortlessly as I could, while trying to pay little attention to the 20-30 runners that passed me in that short distance.

Official Finish - 32:29 / 129th Place

I crossed the line feeling pretty depleted and bummed that I wasn't able to drive to that finish line the way I really wanted to ...the part that really makes you remember you're in a race. I estimated I could have been right at or under 32 minutes and right around 100th place, considering who I was with at 500 to go.  This would have matched my expectations almost exactly. As disappointing as it seems and as much mental energy as I put into racing well, I actually feel like I dismissed this disappointment pretty quickly. I instead thought that I was smart to pull back on the reins and had hoped it was enough to save myself from a more severe injury. I slowly made my way through the finishing area, patting a couple select guys on the back and acknowledging their great efforts on the day, eventually making my way to the medical area. I wasn't sure if they would help me or not, but the injury was now making itself more known and revealing that it needed attention. And I figured it could hurt to ask them. I was very happy and fortunate to receive help right away from Alison Gillespie of The Seattle Sports Med Clinic. She worked on the hamstring for a good 20 minutes and reassured me that I was "going to live"!  She had great bedside manner, which helped keep me from feeling sorry for myself. So thank you, Alison for all your help and thank you to The Sports Med Clinic for being there!

The walk back to the starting line was both cold and long with my leg wrapped in ice and nothing more than my race uniform on. Luckily I wore gloves and arm warmers, which helped (Thanks Saucony!). As I made the trek of about 600 or so meters back to the tent area, I saw many guys finishing their cool downs and glancing over to me with a look of concern and pity while I hobbled along. I never like that kind of attention and in most cases just avoided eye contact. But for my friends that would say something, I just assured them I was fine and it was no big deal. As much as I just wanted to get warm again, I couldn't help but stop to see friends along the way, friends like Kim and Drew who have supported me so much on the day and through this year. I had also just found out Brie had won the race (since I didn't see the finish), so I congratulated her on a great day as well, knowing I wouldn't get to see her later on. Though I couldn't tell who everyone was on the course, I was very flattered by the amount of encouragement I heard during the race as a mid pack runner in that field. Don't get me wrong, it's probably the deepest field I've ever been in so mid pack was nothing to be ashamed of. But you know what I mean. Maybe it was just the same few people that happened to hit every spot on the course, but it definitely made me race better and made the experience that much more enjoyable!

I held onto a little bit of disappointment from the race and of course some concern for the injury, but it didn't keep me from enjoying the rest of the day. The event organizers put together a great Awards Ceremony and After Party that was one of the most well attended I've seen and I know just about everyone had a great time with it. Overall, the weekend gave me everything I was looking for and I am very grateful for having the opportunity to experience it with such a great community of runners and just a great group of people in general. I might be slightly biased, but I can't think of a better community of people to be around. That's probably why this event is so successful.

In conclusion, congratulations to Jon Grey and Brie Felnagle, McMillan Elite and TeamRogue! Thank you to USATF, Runnerspace, Michael Scott, and many others that added so much to the event coverage. I definitely suggest watching the race video (14 minutes gets you to where I finish but the video shows every finisher). They did a great job with it (women's race as well), using multiple camera shots and being at key split markers. Thanks to Kevin and Chris for all that work!

Event Coverage on Runnerspace
Results on USATF
Photos by Michael Scott (on Facebook)

Stay tuned for more updates and thanks for all your interest (for me and the sport).