First race of a non-running season
As usual, I cannot suppress those athlete instinct to compete again even though I stopped distance running. I have been doing general conditioning for the past few months, merely doing maintenance work to my fitness, waiting, waiting for a new goal interesting enough to spur me onto some serious training schedule. Today I ran my first race of the year, the 5km cross country. It was a spontaneous decision, without any specific training, or any diet planning beforehand.
At the start line, I was up against serious runners who probably anticipated this day for eons. I see the fire in some of their eyes, they really wanted this badly and I looked at myself, I don’t deserve to be here. I know how it feels to put in so much time, sweat and blood into racking up the mileage and all these are what you fight for at the start line. I shrugged my shoulders, on my mark, and got off to a medium start. As usual, hormone raged boys and inexperienced runners start at an incredible pace. Before I knew it, I was at least 50 places behind the first. I looked at my watch, smirked and thought to myself, 18 more minutes of pain to go.
I picked up after the first kilometre, chasing up the front pack until I caught a glimpse of them. I eased myself into the second pack of runner for another two kilometres. My race plan was surprising sound given that I didn’t have one. I maintained at this pace, stride by stride, until the 14th minute when everything started to roll downhill.
With slightly more than a kilometre to go, I couldn’t feel my fingers because they were already numb to the chill. My toes started cramping and my stomach started to contract harder. I resisted all of them by focusing on my breathing and stride. I knew the end was near and I started to increase my pace despite the pain, breaking away from the pack of runners, I was heading for a decent timing and a 6th to 7th placing.
Closing to the finishing line, I slowed down by a considerable amount, and 6 runners got by me. I counted every single one of them down. My body wasn’t listening to my mind anymore. I crossed the finishing line and deposited remnants of my breakfast on the roots of the tree, 12th place 19min flat. The amount of training done is shown by how strong one finishes, and my lack of endurance and discipline at the last end just showed my lack of conditioning specifically for running. I am more than a minute off my best but since I didn’t consider myself a runner anymore, it didn’t hit me too hard. But one things for sure, I hate losing.
Overall it wasn’t a good result but I am satisfied with my performance given the amount of training I put into running - just 2 times a week. I am still able to maintain a sub 4min/km pace like I used to do comfortably for 10km, albeit the lack of endurance and fitness for a strong finish.