Santa Anita Derby Day 5K

"How are you feeling?" Atombuddy asked me as we warmed up. 
"Nervous," I tittered.

It's not that I haven't wanted a PR before or chased down a goal. It's that I've never made such a statement to the Loop, nor asked a fellow Loopster to pace me. That's what happens when you do a vlog immediately after a disappointing run, though, and you are an emoter like me. Crazy stuff just comes out. It created a weight on my shoulders, though - not one I couldn't bear, simply one I wasn't used to - and I wasn't comfortable with it. Then again, no one ever said racing a 5K was comfortable. 

A day later, I was cozied up on the couch at Chez AB, a lovely B&B in Pasadena, California with great rates for residents of Loopville, writing in my Believe Training journal, with a serendipitous 4 week check-in. The theme of this check-in: Resistance. 

The start of the Santa Anita Derby Day 5K was in the parking lot of a mall. After a thorough warm-up, complete with striders, AB and I lined up at the starting gates. I anxiously awaited our turn to run through the 1930's starting gate for the Santa Anita Race Track. AB and I had worked out a plan: start slightly slower than goal pace, progress through mile 2 and finish with a kick at the end. 

"I always seem to have enough for a kick," I said. 

The wave start minimized the need for bobbing and weaving, and AB had me off to a hard but not uncomfortable pace - exactly what we had wanted. As we turned for the nearby arboretum, I couldn't help but wonder if I could sustain this. "Can I do this? I'm not sure. I guess we will found out. I can ... I dunno ... maybe I can't." Thoughts like these tumbled in my brain. 

"How do you feel?"
"Heh .... scared."

Mile 1: 9:31

Resistance: She's your inner critic, ruining your best intentions, pulling you into negative self talk, giving you plenty of excuses and leaving your mired in doubt. Your mind plays a big role in performance; resistance can stand in the way of goals if you let it. These self-sabotaging thoughts thrive on fear, procrastination, drama, distraction, fear of failure and indecision. Well, damn, maybe I should have done this check-in before the big race. 

As mile 1 clicked off below goal pace, AB was nothing but encouraging. "You just have to maintain this and you are golden," he said (or something to that effect). The pace felt harder than I thought it should. Or maybe it felt just right. Having never actually raced a 5K, how should I have known what to feel? Honestly, I sort of went off of Peg's and Bangle's blogs but they are crazy people, so who really knows how accurate that is?? As we rolled into a slight uphill, my pace slowed, I could feel it slowing and the doubts just taking over "I can't, I can't, I can't". Yet, AB was still there, dragging me along. I hadn't bothered to be completely honest about how much MJ had been bothering me that week. I didn't want the damn hip to be an excuse anymore, I was tired of it being an excuse, and yet there MJ was, making her presence known, not moving as fluidly as she should. Somehow, AB's advice of shorter strides helped and there I was, back in the game. 

Mile 2: 9:44

Looking back, one of the biggest components of a successful 5K is confidence. Man, if you don't have that, you are pretty much screwed. I know it sounds obvious, but it's one of those lessons I never really learned. This is what happens when you don't allow yourself to pursue greatness for fear of missing the mark. It's a lesson I eventually was going to need to learn. And there I was, learning it in Southern California. 

We crossed into the back area of the Santa Anita Race track, the smells of the tack pens reminding me of my childhoods at the county and state fairs in Iowa. AB keeps encouraging me, telling me that I can pick up the pace. This felt like the longest 3.1 miles of my life. I was getting told exactly what to do, and I almost responded "I'll try", but I thought no, no try, must do so I said, "Okay, let's Yoda this"; somehow I picked up the pace. AB says "You are at an 8:50 pace, you are doing great!" Immediately, I panicked. I got so scared and my brain started sounding alarms and it felt like my entire being wanted to run and hide. I slowed. I slowed and I knew sub-30 was slipping away and it was my own mental game to blame for it. I knew it, I could see it and feel it right then and there, but I couldn't overcome it. My legs were dead, I had no spring, but it was my mind that was holding me back the most. As we rounded the final turn to go onto the practice race track, AB was ready to gun for it. Ugh, I could see how much he wanted to race in with me to the finish, but I was swimming in sand, with people passing me left and right.AB literally dragging me to the finish. Photo cred: JunBlack13 (check out his Instagram for other awesome photos from race day) 

It was a crappy feeling, knowing the goal was slipping away. It was even worse knowing my pacer had done everything right and my own mental game was destroying all of his work. "I can still PR", a small voice somewhere in the back of my mind whispered, and somehow, I managed a small surge and crossed the finish. 

Mile 3: 9:41
Total time: 30:16
Average pace: 9:45 mm

 Later, as AB and I talked and I reflected on my own, I let go of all the weight I had been keeping on my shoulders. I finally got a PR, one that hadn't been broken in 4 years, and that is something. I am looking forward to the next cycle, when I can confidently incorporate speed work. 

But man, oh man, I couldn't help but see the irony of reading that 4 week trading journal check-in a day after the race. 

 Seriously. Self-doubt and fear, you are going out the window. Now that I've made you known, there isn't really anywhere to hide anyway.