Maggie Valley Moonlight Race

Neither of us felt especially sore after the previous night's race until we began to warm up a little for the 8-K Moonlight Race.  I ran downhill a little, did a few pickups, and then turned to run uphill, and that's when I began to feel a little soreness, as if I had run some intervals the day before.  But it was again a good night, temperatures down in the lower 70s (which actually felt a little chilly post-race), and we were both focused on running our best.  The course starts mid-way on that long two-and-a-half mile hill, goes up, then down, and then up again; I got off to a good start, although the hill was a little daunting, felt pretty strong until the turn-around.  Then comes two-and-a-half miles downhill, and the temptation for most runners is to pour it on despite the final hill yet to come after that turn-around.  Many younger runners passed me on the downhill, including - to my surprise - Martha, who pulled ahead and led almost to the turn-around.  I passed her again and then started uphill, realizing by her distance behind that she would be unlikely to catch me.  And the reason for that was an entire summer of running Big Bearpen.  Yes, my old friend stood me in good stead now as I pulled that final mile uphill, feeling strong on purposeful.

There is a point in every race when one thinks, "I can just continue on and finish this, or I can pick it up even more, into and through the wall of discomfort, as hard as I can."  And that's when I realized that I was beginning pass runners who had passed me earlier in the race.  That is a very heartening thing to have happen!  There goes that woman in the pink socks; there goes that tall white-haired guy who was probably in my age group, gasping out, "Good job" as I passed him decisively.  The last hundred yards passed by so quickly, just like the previous night!  I had my game face on, gritting my teeth, focusing on the road ahead of me, pumping my arms.  A little girl was standing near the finish, just before the final turn into the parking lot, with her hand out-stretched high-fiving runners, and I barely took notice.  "He's too serious looking!" I heard her say as I passed her by.  And I suppose I was.  "Yes, I'm too serous looking!" I said audibly, probably surprising some along the way, "I'm too serious!"  I finished in 48:11, feeling as if I had given it my all.  Who can do more?  I felt a little light-headed, and so did Martha when she crossed the line at 49:24, also looking as if she had given her all, perhaps even more than I had.  She told me later that her only goal was to finish under 50 minutes, so it was a happy night for both of us!

The Main Street Mile

It is truly exhilarating for a distance runner to run a one-mile race.  And the course at Waynesville is extraordinarily fast, beginning with a slight up-and-down roll, but then descending in a gradual downhill finish for the last half-mile or so.  The temperatures were in the low 70s, and Martha reminded me that the bank thermometer near the finish line four years ago had hovered a little over 90 degrees.  This was the third time I ran this race; in 2010 when I was in peak condition I finished in a surprising 6:48  - I did NOT think I could run that fast anymore! - and in 2011 I finished in a respectable 7:09.  But age has taken its toll, and four years later my only goal was to finish under eight minutes.  Martha had the same goal, I later discovered, and I was able to watch her finish because hers was the second of four heats.  As I stood at the finish line, I was surprised to see her coming in so soon!  Her time was 7:59.

I began to make my way to the start one mile up Main Street, jogging a little, walking some, and doing some fast pick-ups, just to wake up my muscles.  Whether it is a marathon or a mile, the excitement at the starting line seems to be the same, except when the starting horn went off this time I suddenly realized that there was no room for error.  No water stops, no walking breaks, no joking around with by-standers as I usually do during a marathon, simply a single, pure, hard run at 400-meter pace.  My first quarter was 1:56, which was very encouraging, and I was 3:56 at the 800.  (I later learned that Martha was a second faster at the half).  You can almost see the finish line at the half-way point.  The last half-mile went by so quickly!  I moved from side to side in the road, trying to find perfectly level terrain, because I felt that I might literally trip over my own feet, or stumble over a patched pothole.  As I approached the clock I realized I would be under eight, and only later found out I had run a 7:57.  A very satisfying night!

And did we wave anything for Maggie Valley, scheduled for tomorrow night?  Neither of us did - we ran as hard as we could, holding nothing back.

While waiting for Martha to finish, I saw my old friend Don Hendershot, who used to live in Highlands.  Don was the Race Director for the old Highlands School PTO 5-K, which I took over in 1994, and he cajoled me into running my very first 5-K in 1993.  So we come full circle.  His daughter Maddie (9) ran a 6:51, and Izzy (13) ran a 5:54.  I always get smoked by 9-year-olds and 13-year-olds these days. 

Race Week

It's race week and it's exciting to wrap up training - another long run Saturday ending with a 9:24 mile, and two 400-meter intervals yesterday (2:00 and 1:56).  The axiom for marathon training applies just as well to shorter races:  there is not much more I can do at this point to improve my race, but there is a lot I can do to make my race worse.  So it is taper time.

We are planning to run the Waynesville Main Street Mile on Friday night and the Maggie Valley Moonlight Race on Saturday night, and it occurs to me that I have never run races back-to-back on consecutive days like this.  I well remember talking to Charles Dotson form Lake Junaluska at my last Main Street Mile, an 89-year-old runner I kept running into at area races, and discovering that he was planning on running a 5-K the next morning.  So he is my inspiration.  And I hope he is still running and that I will run into him this weekend!

I keep a careful record of all my races, in a little book and on a spreadsheet, and they tell me that I first ran Maggie Valley in 1995 - it was my fifth race ever, and I have run it a total of 12 times now.  My fastest time was in 1998 (37:05) and my slowest was in 2011 (41:42).  I used to be infatuated with night-time races, and I have enjoyed many memorable evenings on that long mountain with Katy and Martha and many other runners and friends, including Richard Tankersley who is no longer with us.  I remember the clear, bright moon overhead sometimes, and driving rain other times; one year a hurricane, the first of the season, was just finishing up dropping what seemed like the entire Gulf of Mexico on us.  So it will be interesting to see what conditions will be this year.

I ran the Main Street Mile in 2010 (a surprising 6:48) and again in 2011 (7:09), and thoroughly enjoyed my first-ever street mile.  I did not know I could run that fast!  But speed is an elusive gift that fades with time, and I doubt that my time in either of these races will be as fast as then.  Now is now, and I am just trying to run the best race that I can run.  And give thanks that I am still running that long mountain in Maggie 20 years later, and that blazing mile through downtown Waynesville.

Maggie Valley

sometimes in the 1990s.

And I was not supposed to copy this photo.

A Touch of Fall

Can a touch of fall be discerned in the air so early in August?  It seems so.  Temperatures have been down in the low- to mid-60s, and the air remains cool well into the late morning now, especially in the shade or when cloud cover lingers.

This morning Martha and I both had a good run.  She actually started a few minutes before I did, 8:00 a.m. or so, and when we were sitting on our deck talking about the run at lunch time she said she had really enjoyed running so early when the Town was just beginning to wake up, traffic was light, and the air still nice and cool.  Although the sun was shining in Clear Creek, up in Town there was a veil of fog that did not burn away for nearly an hour.  These conditions certainly helped us both; she jumped her mileage up from six to eight, and I completed another 12-miler with much less effort than in the past two weeks.  In fact, on the last mile I decided to pick up the pace to see what I could do.  This is sometimes a good way to end a long run, and often the pace pick-up even means that you are using slightly different muscles, making the effort a little easier than the usual long-run pace.  I was pleased with a modest 9:58 mile; I had not known I was running that fast.

As the days turn cooler and the training continues, I hope that we will continue to see improvement as we moved toward some tentatively-planned longer races before the end of the year.  Soon the leaves will be blazing with color, you will be able to see your breath in the morning, and gloves will feel good in the cold air.  Surely there is no better time of year to be running! 

Negative Splits

After bemoaning the loss of speed in my legs, I decided to run a set of four 400-meter intervals this morning.  Light misty rain was falling from time to time, and it was one of the coolest mornings we have had.  Maybe that's all I need:  cool weather.  I ran a perfect set, increasing a second each time:  2:05, 2:04, 2:03, 2:02.  As Fred pointed out later in the week, they were perfect "negative splits."  A positive outcome.

Running Pretty Far

In 1971, folk singer Melanie (Melanie Safka - remember her?) released a song called "Brand New Key," which at the time was a bit scandalous because everyone knew she was talking about sex and not roller-skating:  "I got a brand new pair of roller skates, you got a brand new key."  Now that I am an old runner trying to find the speed in my legs, I think it is about running. 

Saturday I "skated" 12 miles, round and round Highlands.  And this morning, I did eight miles, up Big Bearpen and back down, and then up Sunset Rocks and back down, and then out Gibson Road - miles and miles of hills.  It seems I can run 20 miles these days during a period of only 72 hours, and hilly miles at that, but I can't seem to run faster than a 2-minute quarter-mile interval.  And with the possibility of a one-mile race and a five-mile race on the horizon in less than three weeks, I would like to find once again that elusive speed in my legs that only comes from repeatedly running intervals - "You have to run fast in order to be able to run fast," as a high school cross-country coach told me many years ago.

And so I thought about Melanie and her notorious lyric this morning: 

"Don't go too fast but I go pretty far."

Come on, speed!  It almost seems like you're avoiding me.