5000m, Not A 5K
Last week I challenged myself to do something I've never done. A 5000m. No, not a 5K- those are run on the road or trail- but a 5000m race on the track. Never done it, how hard can it be?
It all started after a tempo/hill workout on Thursday morning. I was looking for the Boise State home track meet information simply so we could go watch the races. The words "Open Athlete" caught my eye and next thing you know I am signed up to run Friday night in my very first 5000m race. I never raced this distance in college, and frankly hadn't raced any distance on the track since- ehmm- the '90s. Maybe 1998?
Yet here I am, warming up with girls who were in diapers in 1998 and wondering where the start of the race actually is: the 300m mark? 200m mark? And how many laps is this race? Do you wear spikes or flats? How do you run this race- I literally have no idea!?!
So I toe the line on the far outside lane, race to the front pack and continue to make every rookie mistake in the book. I go out way too fast, recording a record mile for my mid-30s and with over 2 miles to go, proceed to watch the wheels fall off. After a number of 80s, I think there were some 93 second laps in there. It's hot and I am really not enjoying this run. Not even a little bit. I'm ready to step off the track and call it. Maybe next time will be better; I'll run smarter at the start and the weather won't be so hot and I'll make sure not to run hill repeats 36 hours before….
But I can't stop; because if I do then I will have to explain to my 4 year old why quitting is OK. That's not a conversation I want to have, because it's not a belief I want her to hold. Which is exactly why I just keep running- suffering- through each turn en route to my first 5000m finish.
How'd I do? eh, OK. I mean I am not thrilled with my time and I am a little embarrassed by the lack of racing maturity I brought to the track, but I did qualify for the USATF Club Nationals. That only means that I have the chance to redeem myself on a big stage. And it sets the carrot out a bit further so I will have to work harder, train smarter and not assume that my marathon miles will carry me far.
This is the big time. This is Track & Field. Take a left and pick it up!
It all started after a tempo/hill workout on Thursday morning. I was looking for the Boise State home track meet information simply so we could go watch the races. The words "Open Athlete" caught my eye and next thing you know I am signed up to run Friday night in my very first 5000m race. I never raced this distance in college, and frankly hadn't raced any distance on the track since- ehmm- the '90s. Maybe 1998?
Yet here I am, warming up with girls who were in diapers in 1998 and wondering where the start of the race actually is: the 300m mark? 200m mark? And how many laps is this race? Do you wear spikes or flats? How do you run this race- I literally have no idea!?!
So I toe the line on the far outside lane, race to the front pack and continue to make every rookie mistake in the book. I go out way too fast, recording a record mile for my mid-30s and with over 2 miles to go, proceed to watch the wheels fall off. After a number of 80s, I think there were some 93 second laps in there. It's hot and I am really not enjoying this run. Not even a little bit. I'm ready to step off the track and call it. Maybe next time will be better; I'll run smarter at the start and the weather won't be so hot and I'll make sure not to run hill repeats 36 hours before….
But I can't stop; because if I do then I will have to explain to my 4 year old why quitting is OK. That's not a conversation I want to have, because it's not a belief I want her to hold. Which is exactly why I just keep running- suffering- through each turn en route to my first 5000m finish.
How'd I do? eh, OK. I mean I am not thrilled with my time and I am a little embarrassed by the lack of racing maturity I brought to the track, but I did qualify for the USATF Club Nationals. That only means that I have the chance to redeem myself on a big stage. And it sets the carrot out a bit further so I will have to work harder, train smarter and not assume that my marathon miles will carry me far.
This is the big time. This is Track & Field. Take a left and pick it up!
That's me, in the neon pink Boise Betties singlet, and that's my conscious peering through the fence. Thanks for keeping me honest babygirl!
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