Cowboy Hazel

I've never been less concerned about not hitting a race goal. I planned to run yesterday's 15K in Central Park in under an hour but ended up with a 1:00:23 instead. I just shrugged and said, "It wasn't meant to be today." And then I was fine with it.

I found Antonio, grabbed some water and then just a couple minutes later Helen came running in with her friends. It was cold after we stopped running so instead of hanging out at the finish we quickly started the jog back to East Harlem. And on the jog home, instead of dwelling on those extra 24 seconds, I was thinking about how good some coffee with whiskey was going to taste and how amazing it would be when the snow finally started falling.

Now the beginning:

I ran into Antonio near the front of the corral and we chatted while waiting for the race to start. I told him that I just wasn't really feeling the race-day mentality and he said the same. We both just planned to stick to 6:27s and finish right under an hour.

The start was signaled and we were off. My first mile was a few seconds slow, the second about ten seconds fast. I passed Antonio when he stopped to tie his shoe, then he caught me and we ran together for about a mile, and finally he moved ahead, eventually finishing in 59:09. I kept things fairly constant up until mile 8. But then, the second trip up Cat Hill got to me and I slowed to a 6:47 (which was 20 of the 24 seconds I was off by ). Looking back, it's easy to point to that mile and see that it was the turning point. It was where I could have dug deep, but didn't.

In the past, that lack of effort would piss me off. But, again, I'm really not concerned about yesterday at all. I was out there to have fun. I did have fun. And I wouldn't have had as much fun if I had pushed harder and made it hurt. This is the type of mentality I want to bring into many (but not all) of my races next year. I feel like it's another step in the progression towards being a smart runner.