I've always wanted to ring a PR bell, and this weekend, I did just that!
It should come as no surprise that I love to run a race on my birthday weekend. Last year, we were still so new to Seattle (and COVID was still so present) that it didn't really cross my mind...and that ended up being for the best, since it absolutely dumped snow that weekend.
|February 2021. Yeah. Not racing in this.
But this year, I didn't want to pass up the opportunity. I found the My Better Half race early in the fall and was immediately interested in running the 10k, but wanted to wait to sign up until I was sure we wouldn't have another snowpocalypse. Then, when I finally went to register, it was sold out.
I added myself to the waiting list and found a backup race that would suffice but wouldn't be nearly as exciting, just in case. I kept a close eye on my email for two weeks, wondering how long I should wait before I officially gave up and signed up for the backup race.
Then, the Wednesday night before race weekend, I was doing my warmup ride on the Peloton when I saw the email come through. I'd been selected!
I signed up right then, as Alex Toussaint urged me to "ride to greatness!"
A couple weeks before this, the second toe on both my feet had been hurting on and off, so once I knew I'd definitely be running a race that weekend, I changed my schedule, deciding to skip my runs for the rest of the week so my toes would be rested for race day. That worked out okay, seeing as Matt and I were dog-sitting Brewsky and Kogi all week, so I had access to the Peloton.
Race weekend brought some deceptive weather: sunny skies and freezing temps. I expected it to be 45° or 50° on race day, but when I lined up at the start, it was 31°. The grass was frosty but at least we weren't getting snow.
I've never felt as blasé about a race as I did this time around. The route was at a park I'm familiar with, I hadn't been training specifically for a race so I didn't have a goal in mind, and I've been running at least 10k for my long runs every weekend since October, so the distance felt more than doable. Basically, everything felt like just another weekend long run.
I was also feeling strangely comfortable with running this race alone. It's been awhile since I've raced by myself, without even a spectator at the finish line, but something about being alone lowered my anxiety and expectations. I was truly just racing for myself.
The 10k was set to start at 8:05am. During the 30-minute drive to the park, I ate half a large banana and sipped some coffee. I was trying something new with the banana because my usual pre-long-run breakfast of overnight oats hadn't been settling well the last few weekends.
The drive was incredibly foggy — I'm talking barely 20 feet of visibility and invisible streetlights — so I drove slowly and was worried I'd be late. Still, I only missed one turn and arrived around 7:35. I found street parking a block away. I changed shirts (since it was colder than anticipated) and got my bib on, glad that I'd made the trip to pick it up the day before. Gloves, Shokz, headband, gum. I meant to bring Honeystinger chews, but forgot to stick them in a pocket.
Around 7:50 I got out of the car and jogged the half mile down to park bathrooms, using that as my warmup. Only one stall had toilet paper, but just as a line was forming, the custodian came by with a sack of rolls to distribute, like a Bathroom Santa Claus. I did my business and jogged to the start. I barely had to wait three minutes before the 10k runners were given the Go! I couldn't have timed it better!
My plan for this race was vague. "Take it easy" and "just run it" were my top priorities. Having run a similar course on Halloween, I knew the big hill in the first half mile was really a lot and I gave myself permission to walk it or walk at the top. Whatever I needed.
What ended up happening was that I ran up the hill, quads burning, and somehow managed to just keep on trucking at the top. The worst part was actually that the hill was divided, so passing people meant getting in the way of half marathoners already on their downhill sprint. Having to run slowly on the heels of a bunch of people while going uphill was tedious and burned worse than if I could've just powered up at my own pace with an open road ahead of me. Then again, maybe the forced slower pace kept me from totally burning out at the end.
Once I cleared the top, there were two additional, gentler hills, but there were some downhills, too, so all in all that first mile was taxing but it didn't sap me the way it did back in October. This was my first indicator that I've made some amazing progress since then, but I wasn't too focused on that at the time because I had no idea how I'd fare the remainder of the race.
Once I came back down that first major hill, I knew the rest of the course was flat. I settled into a comfortable rhythm and let it roll.
|Mile 2.5 and feeling fine!
I'm about to age myself, but around mile 2.5, a group of cool-looking young adults were walking on the dirt trail adjacent to the course, against race traffic, shouting compliments and encouragement to runners. I don't think they were there to spectate but had gotten swept up in it during their own morning walk. As I started coming up to them, one of the women shouted to me: "Great outfit, I like the look you got going on!" and I swear I started flying. (Compliments from Gen Z just hit different.)
|I couldn't ask for a prettier route.
|You can see where I slowed down for ice (dark blue) at the north end of the park.
Of course, as soon as I did, I began to feel fatigued. My breathing was getting a little ragged and my legs were tired.
I told myself I could walk at mile 4, but I passed that same cheer squad ("Still looking good!") and managed to get myself to 4.6 before I finally took a break. By mile 4.65 I was running again, but my watch was showing dashes where my pace should be. It hadn't connected to GPS at the start, either, and when it finally kicked back in a few minutes later, it said my pace was in the 12s. I knew that had to be wrong and decided not to let it worry me. I just kept trucking along.
|Just a l'il walk break selfie.
|Digging in around mile 5.
I found I didn't have a lot of energy left for my usual sprint at the end, which tells me I pushed myself just enough during the race. As I drew closer to the finish, I heard the emcee call my name. "Welcome to the finish, Alison!" There's nothing quite like that at a race!
I grabbed my medal and water and shuffled off to the water's edge to get out of the crowd and take a look at my watch. I had seen the clock as I came in, but I wasn't sure how behind I had been on the gun.
I went to the race website to confirm. 57:12.
I looked up my old PR. In 2012, the first 10k I ever ran, I ran a 58:41. That was so long ago that for years I've thought my PR was an hour because I forgot I'd ever broken 60! And now, ten years later, I broke that record by over a minute without even trying!
|6th place got me by a second!
I was flabbergasted. I knew I'd run a great race but I hadn't realized just how well I'd done until that moment. There was a PR bell in the finisher's village and I worked up the nerve to ask someone to take my photo while I rang it. I'd never gotten to do that before!
|Bucket list item, fulfilled!
I didn't hang around long, although the vendors and oatmeal bar were tempting. If the oatmeal had been gluten free, I would've! I'm annoyed at myself for not finding the photo booth before I left, but I wasn't thinking straight — too excited about my PR — and being alone post-race always makes me just want to get in the car and head out.
Back at the car, I took stock. My toes were feeling good. My legs felt pretty good. My asthma was starting to set in now that my adrenaline was cooling, and I took a puff off my albuterol. I sent my race results to Elizabeth, Sarah, and Matt. I was still in shock.
All told, this was a fantastic race and a great way to say goodbye to 35. I had a great time, it was so well organized, and I feel like it's the first kind of "big" race I've done since the move. I will definitely be back next year, barring another mid-February snowpocalypse. I may even do the half, finally reinstating my birthday half marathon tradition.