Kiwi Nationals Day 2
Today is the biggest day of the meet for me.
I woke up and immediately assessed the discomfort level of my calves. I cautiously stood up and walked to the stairs, then took a step, then another. Shockingly, my calves didn't feel at all worse for wear! I still took it really easy though, slowly stretching and resumed drinking liquids.
All too soon we headed over to the track for my 11:38 race. Warmup went well and I congratulated myself for having the foresight to wear flats the day before (nothing like a good self-pat-on-the-back...) This time, unlike yesterday, I was ready for the 20minute wait we were required to sit through (in a tent) before the race got under way. I laced up and was feeling sprightly when the gun went off.
Once again I felt the race out from the back, watching the jostling ahead and trying not to gawk at having to run 56. It's a pretty easy race plan when you have nothing to lose. That's not to say I didn't have a goal and a focus for the race. I really wanted to see if I could get foward onto my toes and close well since I have not accomplished this for over a year now. I don't think it's an essential part of running fast, but I do see it as a requirement for winning! At the end of races I just end up reaching more with my stride to get that extra speed rather than using the sprinting muscles that should be relatively fresh. My problem for quite some time has been that those muscles have received no specific training, and the calf/glute/stride issues I've had for a few months has really highlighted that weakness.
So with 400m to go, I tried to get into sprinting position without picking up my pace too much (ended up in a failed move around a few guys). Stay on my toes. It felt awkward and I really couldn't imagine having more efficiency in that position. However, soon there was only 100m left in the race and I felt like I was stuck in sprinting position, exactly what I wanted. I closed pretty well, but more importantly, I confirmed my hypothesis when I started to rig. This is important! I have not rigged in a LONG time. I have fatigued at the end of races, but that's really quite different from what happens when your feet splay out and your hammies clench (even when they should be releasing). When you fatigue, your hips just sink and it looks to the public like you weigh a million pounds and are about to fall over. When you rig, it's like a full-body cramp. It was great!
Silver Fern Silver Medal
Oh and the race result: I came in 3rd - 1:53. Interestingly enough though, on the podium I was given silver! The change in result happened because the winner was Canadian and each event requires a kiwi podium. So naturally, the kiwi that came 2nd, the lithe Aniel Smith, was boosted to gold as well with the Canadian. Then I assume the official's thinking was "We can't give this kid from the States a bronze and then the kiwi he beat, a silver!" So I shared the silver medal spot with Josh Komen of Canterbury. James List, a Welly training buddy, was 3rd. Crowded podium...
I wasn't done yet though. The real consequence of the rig was that I knew my calves had taken a beating. I had 4 hours before the 1500m and I managed to get back home for some lunch, and, I was hoping, a nap. However, all of a sudden, I was eating a piece of toast with butter and cream cheese when JVD commented, "Well, 2 o'clock. Better think about heading back." What!?! Somehow I had lost an hour and here I was eating cream cheese less than 2 hours before my race. Stupid. And missed my 30min nap too... Great.
I wasn't as lucky in 1500m heats as I was in the 800. I was in the first heat and it looked stacked. No flats for me. That decision was solidified when I looked up and saw a strong overcast grey. Wet track and flats is a disaster.
My race went out and I settled right in a the back (starting to sound like a broken record). However, this time I noticed a gap forming less than a lap in. Looking ahead there were 5 solidly in the pack, and Aniel, the other doubler, was already trying to cover their move. No one said it would be easy but I was feeling up for it and so I moved out and stuck right on Aniel's shoulder. We picked up the pace but never gained ground on the front pack, staying about 10m clear.
2:07 at the 800m.
With 600m left I saw the pack getting restless and Aniel was starting to look the part of an 800 gold medalist as his shoulders began to sag. I moved around him and made the conscious decision to get with the front pack in about 200m. However, as I finished my move on the turn and looked up, I was puzzled. The pack was no closer than before. I redoubled my efforts for the next 300m but still couldn't get any closer to the 5 up there. Now, top 4 make it from each heat and next 4 fastest so I was understandably starting to panic. I went into full gear with 200m to go like I would at the end of a final. I closed pretty well again but realized I wasn't going to get the still quite strong 5 guys in front of me. I accepted my fate with 80m to go and stepped off of 100% to cruise through the line. They actually did the same thing and I finished half a second behind in 6th. For some reason I thought I ran a 3:56 and I was a bit bummed for a few minutes thinking it might be likely I would be first out. However, I was quickly reassured by one of the guys in front that we had finished in 3:53. Wow! I'm actually impressed I ran that fast.
The second pack scared me by running 62 for the first lap but then went through 800m in 2:10 so I had nothing to worry about there. They ended up running 3:58 with my cousin Cary picking up 5th and the last place qualifier spot in 3:59.
That night I repeated the same routine of getting a massage and having a beer and light calf hot tub run. This time though, the masseuse pulled my hairs. Waaa
Kiwi Nationals Day 1
In Debriefing...
That first post was meant to be put up prior to the event so I could cement my mindset. However, lack of internet stifled my ambition. Since then, I've been tying up a ton of loose ends, emails, little requests and other whatnot, and at the same time, trying to minimize the amount of time I sit in this chair (possible cause of fatigue). So I apologize for the tardiness of this entry.
I actually booked my flight with Alex Wallace for Friday morning knowing that I would get to the city, move into my room (planned on the colorful GO Hotel), and scamper off to the track for my 800 heat. Luck would have it that Awal was being picked up in a Wellington-sponsored van from the airport so I tagged along to get closer to the city. Upon reaching his destination: the impressive Camelot motel, I slid open the van door and jumped out.
No sooner had my feet hit the ground than I heard a familiar voice, "Mack Daddy!" - JVD
Camelot
The van had dropped us right at the doorstep of room 744, home to the Scottish ringleaders (Scottish being one of the Welly running clubs). "Where you staying, mate?"
"Haven't booked a room yet. Thinking about ..."
"Oi, I reckon we have an extra bed, eh Josh." Fano was way ahead of me.
"Uh, nope."
"Noooo, it's you, Japes, and Scotty downstairs so just me a Luke up."
"Yip, and there's only 2 beds upstairs..."
"Nooo, there's three beds you idiot."
"Nope, I remember. There was only two."
"I sleep up there you <beep> retard."
"Shall I check? I'm gonna check."
2 seconds later from the balcony, "Aw, yup. K," to me, "You should stay."
Love to. I immediately cut a deal: I would pay for the room's groceries as my part of the cost and we would live like kings! The next three days really reminded me of spring break a bit. Just chillin' with a bunch of runners, trying to relax between sessions, eating food, watching tele, sipping beers. Great times. Great times!
After an hour of catching up we all headed off to the track for day 1 of competition. For me it was just an 800 heat.
Now I was thinking about running in my Piranha flats prior to getting to the track, but once there I had a very pleasant surprise. Turns out, one Nicholas Willis had scratched from the 800m, choosing instead to head back to the States to focus on his training and nurse his knee a bit (I completely understand). Not only that but 1:49 runner Tim Hawks was still feeling worn out and would not be running. Between the two of them and a Canadian with a 1:48 under his belt, I think a lot of Kiwis were scared into the 1500m for their chance at a national title. So now the 800m was suddenly wide open! I was pretty confident about making the final and if I couldn't do it in the flats, I really didn't have any business racing anyways. So in 24 degree heat (no more conversions for lazy Americans) our two heats went off.
I was in the second heat and I smiled a bit as the first went through in 60. Sweet. They finished up in 1:55 and I was all but in to the final. My race goes and I tag along in back at what was probably a 56.
Nope -- 58.
The heat+flats scared me with a lap to go, which was a good thing because I finished in 1:56 after straining down the home stretch. I would have been more worried about how hard that 1:56 felt except that everyone else was panting after their equivalent times as well.
Grabbed a light calf massage (more of a rub) from the Wellington masseuse (the second mooch off the Wellington squad. I owe them big time), and tried to relax with a beer in the hot tub back at the Camelot. Tomorrow, big day! (And don't worry, I hydrated well after the beer...)
ITM
The International Track Meet. Now there's a pretty intimidating title for an event (and like all formal titles, only the acronym was whispered in conversation). Indeed, ITM was advertised as one of the best meets to grace NZ since the '95 Commonwealth Games. In fact, on paper, the directors were lauding the best 800m field in 20 years. With Willis, Risley, and and a couple more sub-1:47 guys, you could only expect fireworks in the race.
I had been targeting this meet since January, when I first worked out my racing schedule for NZ. However, in the month of February I kinda struggled, working on my stride and rehabing some withered calf muscles. During that time I let that meet slip from my mind. Then, two weeks ago, everything started clicking. My new stride felt bouncy and fresh, and I was ripping up my tempos. The week culminated in a fall in an 800m race around the 600m mark. I was through in 1:25 and feeling explosive. I didn't even bother writing it up but, I'm certain I was going to be close to my PR of 1:52. "Ah well." I thought, "I'm gonna kill these next 2 weeks and dominate ITM." Immediately I phoned up the meet director and weasled my way into the meet, citing my workouts of late and promising a near-PR performance in the mid 3:40s.
However, since that magical week things have been less than stellar... I had to take a few days easy after the 800 because my calves were just one big knot. And since then, I've just been struggling with general fatigue. I've never had such a rapid turnaround in general energy level week to week. So leading up to ITM, I was more than a little nervous and it caused me to put top priority on just feeling fresh again. I only ran 15 miles in the 4 days leading up to the meet and only one easy workout, 6x200m. It had the desired effect. My fatigue broke on the day of the meet. For the first time in 2 weeks I didn't whimper at the thought of bounding upstairs or jumping over a bench.
QEII
The QEII stadium environment was a lot more impressive this time than when I ran a local 5k back in December; there were cameras and tents all over the place and almost 2000 people in the stands. Warming up, I was grateful to feel my strides flow crisply and not tire my legs. It allowed me to actually think about the race and not my conditioning. That said, the gameplan going into the race was always the same. The pacemaker was instructed to push 2:27 through 1000m, a pace I have no business running right now and so the plan was to hang on the back of the pack. Draft and stay out of trouble for 1200m and see what happens in the last 300. Try and pick off as many stragglers as possible.
With a simple gameplan, a long stride, and some confidence that I wouldn't embarrass myself, I toed the line. Gun went off and I was immediately blown away! I think every racer got out to a 14s 200m and I nestled down second to last.
Lap 1 - 60
Lap 2 - 62
Lap 3 - 61.5
I was DFL entering the last lap and the time to move to put myself in the race had come and gone. The upside of running like such a wimp was that I was able to call another gear for the back stretch of the last lap, taking down 3 people (who had presumably raced harder in the early stages) in the process. On the home stretch, I wasn't able to get high on my toes and my kick floundered in the last 50m, just like it always does. However, I had closed in 43 and put myself through the line in 3:48.3, a time that has given me some confidence that I can compete on the elite level again. The kick will come with more calf rehab and future plyometrics. I'm just grateful to have spared myself embarrassment. Not the mindset I want to have very much, but this was definitely a race that was tailored towards the southern runners that are peaking at the end of a season, aka not me.
Looking ahead, I'll float for the next week before NZ nationals before getting back into the grind. At that point, all eyes on June in the States and hopefully some new PRs.
Race Day: NBx-mas Classic 5k in Christchurch
Here we go. Race day. And not just any race day. It's my southern hemisphere debut race day. (Actually, the anticipation of the race was way beyond what ended up being the scope of the race).
Some of the sights Cary saw
The meet turned out to be a pretty intimate affair. You might have guessed that since everything else in the Land of the Kiwis is relaxed, their meets would be pretty laid back as well. Well, you would be right. In fact, it honestly felt kind of like a fun run, even though some of the best 5kers on the island were there.
Leading up to the race Cary and I separated in the hostel and just chilled doing our own thing. His lead-up involved a morning run and a little time exploring Christchurch. For me, I was more comfortable watching Balls of Fury, and some other equally mindless movie while catching up on world (Tiger) affairs. Zing!
Only productive part of the day was writing several postcards. Chance of them getting to their recipients by Christmas? Zero.
The great part about this race is that there is the video, so I'll just focus more on what I was thinking. I did a low-key 1 mile warmup as it was quite hot out (compared to what we've been experiencing. About 24 degrees. Celcius. Deal with it). The race actually went off a bit earlier than I thought it would and I did an abbreviated stretching routine. Cary actually almost missed the race, sprinting over and tying spikes on the line. I don't blame him, it seemed to me like we should have had about 5 more minutes, I only made it because I saw a lot of people gathering in the 5k vicinity looking intimidating. Anyways, the strat going in was simple. Run 70s. Stay in touch. Hope to deal with a pickup after 3k.
The first part of the race was perfect. I fell in with the lead pack, didn't get clipped too much, and felt really solid for the first mile doing exactly 70s (nice pacing List). I think my big problem that whole time was I was hyper-sensitive to how my body is feeling. I just don't know what else to think about. It's so damn boring. Anyways, I was happy to be breathing smoothly and striding well at the 1 mile mark. Unfortunately, that's really not too far into a 5k. Just like my first 5k 8 months ago, I began to feel my legs get weary at the halfway mark. No one took off at that point, and as I expected, the move was subtly made when the leader started dropping to 69s with 1600 to go. Me and my little running buddy (Mark Bailey), on the other hand, started pulling 71s. I knew the right move would be to get around at the 2 mile mark but I was just too tired, and, come on, I still have a MILE to go! The urge to move around kept hitting me, and with 600 to go I felt like I should be going anaeobic. But there was just too much distance left. As it was, I began kicking with 300 to go and it was still too early. I just couldn't muster any strength that last 2k. The whole time, I was just holding on. Holding on. Really kind of frustrating. Mostly because you just have sooo long to berate yourself.
So yup, I still hate the 5k. On the plus side, a race that consists of just 4 silly laps around the track sounds too good to be true.
I finished 4th at 14:37 (results). Despite the boredom and then pain I just put myself through, I'm actually reasonably happy with the result. Don't get me wrong. I hate that I lost, and that I'm weak, and that I was thinking about giving up for about half the race. But 14:37 is a good time for me and here's why:
- I've only been back in the saddle for 4 weeks.
- I'm coming off of 3 weeks of straight traveling.
- My achilles isn't terribly strong right now, purhaps affecting my stride.
- I'm not used to the heat (though, judging by today's times compared to previous years, everyone was affected).
- And last, I just haven't run very many 5ks. The result being that I don't feel comfortable feeling like jello with so much race left.
Above all else, it's great to have a solid indicator of exactly where my fitness lies. Up til now, it's been all guesses, comparisons, and speculation. I'm going to talk to Mitch soon and hope to come up with the 2010 gameplan.
Big 3 mile cool down with the fellas. Talked a lot to the other international, a fellow from Sweden. 7 miles
Beyond the race, this meet was awesome, everyone knows everyone else and the atmosphere is so stress free. I would specifically like to thank the meet director (Craig?) for burying me in NB gear (I think he pitied me running in a T-shirt). But even beyond the incredible material generosity, everyone was remarkably friendly in a way you would never get in the states. Yes, I'm hating on the States. However, I will say, the friendliness is kind of born out of necessity. If you alianated your competition here, you'd have like 2 friends. The US can afford to fragment into competitive little groups, whereas the running community here is just not big enough to support major factions. Plus, here, for some reason, everybody's just so like-minded anyways. Its not like some runners are Californians or Texans or New Englanders. No, here you're just Kiwi. Cary and I were invited and attended an amazing BBQ that night at the house of one Gus Taylor, where we ate and drank with almost everyone in the race. Things were fun and funny there through midnight at which point we ended up hitting the impressive Christchurch nightlife scene.
Bed at 3AM with a long run looming in the morning.
Day 23: Out of Place
Today we made our lethargic way to Christchurch where we'll stay the night before our debut track race. On the way we hit up two more attractions. Both were decidedly out of place.
First, was Larnach Castle, sticking out rather absurdly on the top of the farm ground that makes up much of the Dunedin peninsula. The price to get into the castle was absurd, calling for $25/person if you wanted to actually walk within the walls. However, the visit was Cary's idea and he was actually a lot more interested in the grounds and gardens for, you guessed it, the shrubberies. So all pictures are from the castle grounds. The unbelievable thing to me, was the number of people checking out this historic fixture.
For me, I couldn't help but marvel at the cookie-cutter life of William Larnach. You know, the one so many movies, books, parents, and pastors warn you about. Larnach had 200 people working for 3 years on his dream home and master European craftsmen spent 12 more years embellishing the interior. Basically, no expense was spared. Some of the stats on the castle are absurd. Yet! Larnach had 3 wives and 3 divorces before eventually killing himself at some parliament or something (I forget). Listen to this though, his kids let the castle go into ruin and it changed hands 2 more times, each time being refurbished for a brief period of time, before it was found, let me repeat that, FOUND!, completely abandoned in 1967, its main ballroom being used to pen sheep.... But damn, if I could buy a car here, then I'd REALLY be happy
Splintering Boulders
Moving on, we also stopped at a random beach that had nothing interesting but some surreally spherical rocks. I didn't hear about why they were that way, but they are. Some have some cool cracks in them that pretty closely resemble a soccer ball.
We got into Christchurch, carbo'd up, and got a twin room for some good uninterrupted sleep. Tomorrow, we race.
Oh, no running or training to mention today. Resting up for the race.
The Author
I'm a runner who's managed to escape the NE winter for a NZ summer. This is a chronicle of my travels.
Cheers!
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