Showing support to Hansons-Brooks ODP
Crowded, cold, and nervousness was all around me at the start line. Settling into a get-set position, I held the start button on my watch. "Runners, on your marks..."
Let's rewind to the night before, eh?
I ended up getting off work the night before the race around 10, constantly thinking about the race, The Dallas YMCA Turkey Trot (8 miles). I ended up eating a cliff bar that was offered to me after work from one of my co-workers because I ended up forgetting my money at home, and ended up not eating dinner Wednesday (bad I know). This was the first F-up to my concentration because I was constantly thinking, "I'm going to feel the effects of this tomorrow".
When I got home, I started feeling an intense pain in my right leg. A pain I had been feeling since I had to do my long run on the track a few days ago. This was the second F-up to my concentration.
I was scheduling myself to wake up at 5:30 a.m. to gather up some of my friends, and head out downtown to find a parking spot near the start line. I made it to bed around 11 trying to focus on my breathing in order to relax, and hopefully disconnect from the pressure that was going on in my mind.
Back to the start line ..*loud airhorn*
Back to the start line ..*loud airhorn*
The race was on, and I quickly fastened myself next to my friend Carlos Colon. Carlos and I had came up with a plan a few nights before the race: follow the leader. Each of us would swap the leading role every mile, and maintain a 5:47-5:57 pace.
This plan sounds like it would have worked, but sadly, it was completely erased from my memory once we started running haha.
Side by side we passed mile 1 in about 5:40... shocked by that split we realized we had to lower the speed a bit. Carlos, and I were already starting to breathe hard, and I thought to myself, "it's only going to get tougher from here. What are you doing? Slow down!" Once I came to my senses I tried to figure out how I would turn the situation around. I have to love suicide pace. Only then will I have a true racing experience. A new challenge emerged as I passed that mile. I focused on leaving that part of me saying, "Erik, you have not trained for this, what are you doing?" deep down in the conscious, and follow a simple word: Fight! A word I kept repeating to Carlos in our previous weeks of training.
Miles 2-6 felt really easy. I ended up passing mile 4 around 23:40 (I'm writing this a week later so I could be off), mile 5 around 29:35. mile 6 around 36 minutes. I ended up getting a PR for miles 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8. This part of the race was rather easy since there was still a good pack of runners surrounding us, so all I had to do was copy their speed.
Mile 7-Finish
After we passed the 6th mile we ended up in a very abandoned part of the city with a VERY long stretch of road (Probably wasn't, but that's how it seemed like at that time). I was finally beginning to feel a side stitch, and I quickly started thinking negatively. I fell back from a little trio group that consisted of me, Carlos, and a runner who runs for a university up in Missouri (2nd female overall). Slowly, the two were starting to leave me when I suddenly heard Carlos scream "Come on! FIGHT!" "Oh f**k!" A new burst of energy flowed within me. I surged up to them, and latched myself to our trio again. Sadly, once we were about 800 meters from the finish line my legs completely gave up on me. Did I mention it was all uphill? I felt like I was walking! Carlos sped up the hill, and I quickly screamed internally "GO, GO, GO, GO!" I curved onto the final 100 meters, and sprinted (or so I felt like it) with a cheering crowd on the sides.
The greatest race of my life was now over in 48 minutes, and 20 seconds.