Perhaps I’m crazy for getting up early on Thanksgiving morning to run a 5K four years in a row. On the other hand, the people who think I’m crazy probably see no problem in getting up early the day after Thanksgiving to fight the crowds at the mall to save a few bucks on some electronic gizmo. Me? I’ll just wait till next summer and get the next generation gizmo at a lower price. Or more likely, I’ll keep my rotary dial cell phone another year. It’s working rather well thank you very much, but I digress.
This year I decided to add an extra challenge to the race by taking NyQuil the night before. Let me assure you that NyQuil is neither a performance nor a mood enhancing substance. I was groggy, running felt especially laborious. My legs were still sore from an overly eager practice run two days prior. Expectations were that setting a new personal best would be difficult.
On the upside, I had a plan: Run fast. As in, don’t try to pace myself and save something for a strong finish, but just go out fast from the beginning and see if I could sustain it. That plan lasted about a mile and a half, before reality slowed me down and my legs turned to lead.
Then came the hill. In the last mile there’s an uphill section which I will forever remember as the place where the fat guy in the turkey costume passed me. This year I used that as motivation and somehow found the energy to sprint past about a dozen people up the hill.
After that I felt like toast (whole wheat!), but at least it was downhill to the finish line. Somebody passed me during their final sprint to the finish, and I sped up and kept pace. We both passed a couple other runners, then he started to tire out and slow down just short of the finish. Engage warp speed! Where the energy came from I do not know but I passed him in the last hundred feet and set another personal best for a 5K.
So it was that a good start and a very strong finish offset a lackluster showing from mile 1.5 to about 2.5. Fun stat of the race: My average heart rate was 175, which if you believe in the 220-age formula means that I averaged 99% of my maximum, with a peak of about 110%. I never did like that formula.
This makes 3 years in a row I’ve run a minute faster than the previous year. When I reach my 60s I’ll be doing the 5K in 10 minutes. Past performance does not guarantee future gains, and other similar disclaimers apply.
In retrospect (as in, after the NyQuil wore off), it was another great morning with all my fishy friends. I’m thankful to be able to keep doing this, and especially happy that this year I didn’t get passed by some overweight guy in a turkey costume.
