Untamed Runner

Many of us hope to keep our training mileage at our standard levels through the holiday season. However, there are many good reasons why doing so can be challenging. There are a few ways to work around it, physically and mentally.

1. Reasonable expectations. If you’re travelling or have a busier social schedule and think that reaching your normal mileage will be difficult, adjust your weekly expectations. For example, if you normally run 25 miles over 6 days, consider aiming for 20, either through shorter daily runs or running on 4 or 5 days.

2. Related to #1, fewer miles are better than no miles. This is true for any given day or week. Even if you don’t run for a long enough time/distance to improve or maintain fitness, any amount helps keep the training routine going. It’s far more encouraging to get to early January and see a bunch of short runs than a long stretch of goose eggs on the calendar.

3. If you’re adamant about keeping mileage at your normal training level but are concerned about holiday interruptions, consider signing up for a race that occurs in late December/early January. There are holiday themed ones out there and if you have a race on the horizon, that is good motivation to keep the training going.

The holidays are meant to be a time that you enjoy, so whatever you decide on with a routine, make sure you’re likely to enjoy it and that it fits in a way that doesn’t overly stress you out.

As I pondered a goal time for the 10-Miler, I kept a couple of things in mind. I had only ever run one 10-mile race and that was in 2021. It was mostly flat: net uphill on the way out, net down on the way back. I posted a 69:50, or 6:59 per mile. Was I still capable of running sub-70 minutes? While the Virginia 10-Miler is at sea level and that should buy three-five minutes, it has significantly more hills. Also, in 2021 I was three years younger. Following my 44 post, I suspected that natural aging and biology were not going to be allies.

Based on my training pace, which for my ten milers was generally under eight minutes per mile, 80 minutes was a minimum goal. Considering different factors, I settled on being pleased with 75 minutes and very, very happy if I could crack 70. I decided to run the first five miles at a pace that was on the aggressive side of moderate but that I was 99% certain I could hold for the full distance. If at the halfway point I still had a ton of energy left, then I would ramp it up.

Off the line, I kept my pace moderated and by the time I got to four miles, I felt good and was passing people. By the fifth mile, which comes at the top of a nasty, hairpin hill, I was still feeling good. Not enough to go berserker on the pace, but like I was in command of a solid time. For the next three miles, my pace actually got faster as I pushed just a tad.

However, looming at the front and back of my mind the entire time was the final “Farm Basket Hill” because no matter how good I felt, there was no getting around that final, long climb. On a dramatic side note, while most of the course featured music and a healthy number of spectators who were cheering, there was a quarter mile stretch just before Farm Basket that had zero spectators and was eerily silent, as if foreshadowing the grind to come.

The Farm Basket climb is terrible. I should add that though I had never officially run the 10-Miler, I had run on parts or all of the course many, many times. I don’t remember the hill being as bad as it was on race day but I was 20+ years younger and not racing it, which might have had something to do with it. My goal as I went up was to keep running and do what I could to make it to the top without completely falling off the pace.

I could tell by my time and how I felt, especially over the last few miles, that my pacing had worked well. I knew it had been spot on when I hit a quarter mile to go. How did I know? I tried to launch into a final sprint but my legs were not having it. After 50 meters or so, I shifted back down to race pace, then kicked it back up again for the last 100 meters. Feeling that kind of weariness while maintaining race pace at that point is a good thing, in my mind. It means I left nothing on the course. 

My final time was 72:37. While far off of my best-ever 10-mile time and not one that I would shout about, I was pleased, most of all with my pacing. It was reflected not only in mymile splits and overall time, but in the dynamics of the race–over the last six miles, I passed 10-20 people but only got passed by two. Also, I maintained my pace over the final Farm Basket stretch. Most importantly, I felt simultaneously in command of my legs and pace while also realizing that I was precisely running my body down to empty as I moved to the finish line.

I’ve mentioned in prior posts that our best races may not necessarily be the ones where we achieve our fastest time or a win, it may be those where training, race strategy, and execution come together, and that was the case last Saturday. I’m not sure of my 10-Miler’s exact ranking in my best races, but I’m confident placing it in the top 5.

Last October, I signed up for the 2024 Virginia 10 Miler which was held this past Saturday, the 28th. This is a somewhat legendary, 10-mile road race in Lynchburg, VA, the town where I grew up. The winning times have been under 50 minutes, or sub-5 minute mile pace. It features over 700 feet of total climbing and the course has a steady diet of hills, including the infamous “Farm Basket Hill,” a grueling 1.5 mile net climb at the end of the race.

Though I began running earnestly when I was 14, I had never run the 10-Miler. Among running cross-country, being out of town for college, etc. it was something I’d never been able to fit in. The 2024 edition was the 50th anniversary of the race and I figured that it was as good a time as any to give it a go. It was going to pose some challenges.

Where I live in Colorado is relatively flat. There are slight ascents and descents and a few large hills, but nothing close to the constant grind of hills I would face on the 10-miler course. So, I adjusted my training routes. I made sure to incorporate a set of bigger hills near my house into more of my training runs and I did two types of ten-mile training runs. One was where I would run net downhill on the way out and then have net uphill on the way back. This helped approximate the profile of the 10-miler course. The second type was including long sets of grueling hills into the run. These training runs generally felt terrible but I kept in the back of my mind that it would (hopefully) pay off on race day.

I also worked on pacing. The 10-miler is net downhill on the first half and at sea level and I knew that it would be tempting to go out too fast. I worked to moderate my pace on the first half of my training runs and thus save some fuel for the second half, especially those runs where I was finishing coming back uphill.

Finally, I also began incorporating a three-part race strategy: RBR, or Relax, Breathe, Race.

Relax: the goal was to focus on relaxing my body north of my waist. There’s no need to waste energy tensing up muscles that I’m not directly using to churn out the miles. This is something I’ve been working on for a couple of years and I continued to emphasize it.

Breathe: In a book I highly recommend, The Track in the Forest, it talks about how one of the coaches of 1968 Olympic team encouraged his athletes to incorporate heavy exhalation into their racing. The idea is that as distance runners, we’re sucking in high levels of oxygen and that it’s beneficial to our bodies to also try and release some of the extra CO2 that we’re building up. This is easier said than done since we rely on taking in the oxygen. What I focused on was using downhills, where I don’t need to take in as much air, as opportunities to do one to three sets of deep, forced exhales, depending on the length of the hill, to help keep everything in my lungs a little cleaner. Towards the bottom of the hill, I would then do several deep inhales to replenish the air before starting on the next climb.

Race: I’m an easily distracted daydreamer. It’s common for me to lose focus on a long run while thinking about any number of topics. While this can help me to forget about the pain of a training run or race, I also can lose track of things I want to think about related to my strategy. For this race, I simply tried to make sure I was keeping my focus sharp.

My training went relatively well, minus a few hiccups, so when I showed up at the start line, I had to hope that it was sufficient to run the race I wanted. How did that go? Stay tuned for my next post…

I read an article a couple of weeks ago that gave me a bit of context regarding my race times from the past sixteen months. From the spring of 2023 through now, I was/am struggling to hit race times that matched what I was doing in 2022 and earlier. 

At the times of the races, I would think about the factors that may have impacted me including heat, having an off day, tough course, etc.

This past winter, I dealt with a wonky left knee and then something went wrong with my right calf. I took a full three weeks off to see if I could fully reset, then very slowly started building back up.

Because of this, when my time at a 5K early this past summer wasn’t great, I blamed having to build back and assumed a few more weeks of training would take care of it. Except, I knew that with that same level of training several years ago, my time would probably have been thirty seconds faster. Was the slower result a lack of speed work, age, or something else?

Then along came this article. Maybe the key factor was age, and a very specific age. The argument of the article is that 44 is a year where you make a sharp turn in aging and it does not lead to faster times. I’d turned 44 in 2022 and based on my own experience, that sharp turn makes sense.

It’s a bit of a relief, in that it may be in nature’s control and not mine. Unfortunately, there was nothing about a bounceback at a later time. Fortunately, the next big turn is expected around age 60, so maybe there’s a while before aging takes a big turn…

The Olympics came and went and while there were many historic and captivating performances, the 5000M was mostly under the radar. But, there was one notable occurrence in each the men’s and women’s.

The US men have a 5000/10000 runner, Grant Fisher, who has competed well on the world stage but had yet to medal in a world championship. While I don’t know if he’ll ever be within striking distance of the world record (he’s 11 seconds off of it currently) he has been fast enough to be in the mix for medals. In this Olympics, he finally broke through to the podium with a bronze.

The women’s race didn’t feature any major upsets but it did see hard, jostling contact between Faith Kipyegon of Kenya, who ultimately took silver, and Gudaf Tsegay of Ethiopia. 

During the race, it looked like Tsegay cut in and created the contact but Ethiopia filed a protest that stripped Kipyegon of the silver. However, on further review, they reversed their decision, restoring the silver to Kipyegon. It was an odd bit of drama but it looked like it got sorted out the right way.

Oddly, the 2024 track season is not over as there are three more Diamond League meets. I’ve not been a professional runner but I have to wonder if running in the Diamond League after the Olympics might be like playing a basketball conference championship after the NCAA tournament. There may be an advantage-maybe it’s more relaxing without the eyes of the world on the meet.

The Olympics start in just under a week. The 5000M features two heats: a first round from which the finalists will be selected, based on their finishes, for the medal race. The women’s will be run on August 2nd and 5th; the men’s on August 7th and 10th. Note the three-day gap, or one mile per day for recovery.

The first men’s Olympic 5000M race was in 1912 and the winning time was 14:36.6, a full 91 seconds slower than the current Olympic qualifying standard of 13:05, which is ~30 seconds off the world record of 12:35.36. The last three Olympic winning times for the men have been 12:58 (2021); 13:03 (2016); and 13:41 (2012). The Olympic record is 12:57 (2008).

The first women’s Olympic race was run in 1996 and the winning time was 14:59.88. The current Olympic entry standard is 14:52 and the world record is 14:00.21. The last three Olympic winning times have been 14:36 (2021); 14:26 (2016); and 15:04 (2012). The Olympic record is 14:26 (2016).

As you can see, the Olympic races are tactical; it’s absurdly unlikely anyone will go out at a world record pace because they want to strategize maximizing their energy for the final section of the race. It’s a game where each person is considering when to surge to go for the win, whether they can hold that once they’ve made the call, and/or whether someone behind them has an even stronger and faster kick (ie final sprint) to catch them. It’s a subject I’ve mentioned in prior posts and while it may seem a little odd to someone unfamiliar with the sport, it’s how it works.

For the purposes of the Olympics (and world championships) it’s a byproduct of the distance races–for the 800M and shorter, there’s really no choice but to go all out so the likelihood of world records at the Olympics is higher. In 2012, if someone wasn’t familiar with the 5000M but decided to watch it, they may have checked the world record (at the time it was 12:37) and wondered why the winning time for the Olympics was 20 seconds per-mile slower.

It’s a good reminder that if you check out the Olympic 5000M, keep in mind that it’s all tactics and that can be fascinating. Will a countries’ runners work together to let one of them rabbit and try to draw out other racers early? Will someone push early knowing others aren’t likely to chase them, and then be able to hold for the win? We’ll know soon.

Sources used:

https://olympics.com/en/news/athletics-track-combined-events-at-paris-2024-the-entry-standards

https://olympics.com/en/paris-2024/schedule/athletics?day=31-july

https://www.usatf.org/events/2024/2024-u-s-olympic-team-trials-%E2%80%94-track-field/qualifying-information

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/5000_metres

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Athletics_at_the_1912_Summer_Olympics

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Athletics_at_the_2012_Summer_Olympics

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Athletics_at_the_2016_Summer_Olympics

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Athletics_at_the_2020_Summer_Olympics

https://worldathletics.org/records/by-category/olympic-games-records

(Note from a prior post that the 5000M was not added to the women’s Olympic program until 1996 and they started ratifying women’s world records in 1981.)

The early days of the ratified men’s 5000M were dominated by Finland. In his book The Five and Ten Men, Richard Amery acknowledges the unlikelihood of distance running prowess emerging from Finland but the results are the proof. In the six Olympic games from 1912-1936, Finnish men won ten of the eighteen medals in the 5000, including five golds. Swedish runners nabbed four of the others so there was something good in the Scandinavian water those days.

In the six Olympic games after 1936 (no games were held in 1940 or 1944) runners from twelve unique countries earned medals at the distance, compared to the five from 1912-1936. Finland enjoyed more success in the 1970s when Lasse Viren won gold at the 1972 and 1976 Olympics and Kaarlo Maaninka earned bronze at the 1980s games. It wasn’t until later in the 20th century that African domination of distance running emerged.

From 1912 until late 1942, only Finnish runners held the world record at the 5000M and Viren held it for five days in 1972. An African-born runner has held the men’s world record at the 5000M since 1985 and on the women’s side, since 2006. The last time a runner who was not African-born earned a medal in the 5000M at the Olympics was in 1992 for the men and 2000 for women.

In the time periods between Finnish and African domination, it’s interesting to note that a wide variety of countries had athletes who set world records and earned Olympic medals; there was no country or region in that timeframe that could claim the top of the podium in terms of overall success.

Sources used:

Amery, Richard. The Five and Ten Men. Distancedreaming, 2019.

5000 metres – Wikipedia

5000 metres world record progression – Wikipedia

There were three interesting 5000Ms this past week. Two of the three were championship races and one of those plus the third race saw a record fall.

The first was the men’s NCAA 5000M championship. The winner, Parker Wolfe, ran a 1:52 final 800M (which is blazing fast) to win the race in 13:54. This was also noteworthy because Wolfe defeated the first collegiate athlete, Nico Young, to have run under 13:00 for the distance. It’s a good illustration of how a tactical race doesn’t necessarily favor the fastest person in the field.

The women’s NCAA 5000M championship was won by Parker Valby (apparently it was advantageous to be named Parker in the NCAAs) and was never in serious doubt. She had a comfortable lead most of the way and broke her own collegiate record. What was interesting in this race wasn’t the event itself but the predictions for her going forward. She’s dominated the college scene but she apparently runs 3 to 4 days per week, doing the rest of her workouts on an ARC trainer. There’s a lot of talent but what she’ll do at a higher level is unknown. Can that same type of training work or will she need to up her mileage? If the latter, how will that look? She’ll be at the Olympic Trials later this month which will be an early, though not definitive, indicator of how she’ll perform long-term.

The third race was this past weekend and the most interesting outcome was the person who finished 8th, Daniel Simmons. The reason is that this was a high schooler who was racing with pros and he took nine seconds off the national record by posting a 13:25.86. He missed the Olympic Trials automatic standard by .86 seconds but up to 30 people will be invited so he has a good chance at being there. While his chances of making the team are low, that is some significantly good experience at that age. Nine seconds is also lot of time to knock off of a record at that distance.

The trials start on June 21, where the three 5000M participants for Paris will earn their spots.

Sources used:

DyeStat.com

https://www.letsrun.com/

There was a compelling 5000M race in Los Angeles last Friday night. The winning time was 12:51, followed by several others in sub-13:00. The article link is here. There are times when a highly anticipated field disappoints in terms of how the race unfolds and the results. Not so this time, and hopefully it’s a preview of how the Olympic 5000 will turn out. There were a few interesting tidbits, including the following.

After the race, someone suggested that with a talented field at a 5000M in Oslo coming up, maybe the current record holder, Joshua Cheptegei would use that to try and lower his time. However, he indicated he probably wouldn’t be drawn into it because of the Olympics.

Race recovery is typically one day per mile, but there’s also conventional wisdom that runners will circle a key race on the calendar to build up to, including the 5000M. Thus, you’re training through a lot of races and not doing a true taper until the one you feel is most important. Even for the most talented, trained runners, that holds true. While Cheptegei says he’s focusing on the 10000M at the Olympics, he’ll use the same pattern, in that he won’t circle the 5000M record attempt so that he can work up to the 10000M.

The US Olympic Trials are late next month so with those, plus the Diamond League, and the Olympics, it’s a compelling summer for the 5000.

How fast are professional 5K runners going? When looking at times from local 5Ks compared to what the pros are posting, it’s easy to classify the gaps of multiple minutes as astounding or otherworldly but it is possible to appreciate the differences in concrete ways.

The current men’s world record for 5000M is 12:35.36, which is 4:03.07 per mile, or 60.43 seconds per 400M (one lap on a standard outdoor track), or 15.11 seconds per 100M. The women’s world record at 5000M is 14:00.21, or 4:30.4 per mile, or 67.22 seconds per 400M, or 16.8 seconds per 100M.

When watching a 5000M on television, because the cameras often are above the track and removed from the thick of the action, it’s difficult to see the sheer speed at which these athletes are running. To complicate it more, often the nature of someone’s stride can disguise how fast they’re going. Some folks have a gait where it looks like they’re on a recovery run yet they’re going at a blistering pace. But, if the cameras move down to ground view, typically the velocity can easily be seen.

What does this have to do with the history of the 5000M? It establishes that it’s not just a three-plus mile race, it’s a red-lining, three-plus mile race. In the meantime, if you are training and game to see what the world record would feel like, you can head to the local track and see how long you’re able to hold that pace.

Sources used:

5000 metres – Wikipedia

List of United States high school national records in track and field – Wikipedia