A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine sent me a link for the Mile High Mile, a one-mile track race being held at a local high school. It featured many different heats including youth, high school, masters, elite, etc. Some readers of my blog may recall that in late 2019, I was planning to focus on training for and racing the mile during the upcoming year. Part of my reasoning was to engage with different styles of training including short, speed-focused efforts. I started on this endeavor, I bought a pair of racing flats, and then Covid slammed us. While the pandemic didn’t prevent me from making changes to my workouts, without any formal mile races on the calendar, I continued running my traditional distances.
When this mile race came up, I jumped on the opportunity. I’ve not been tailoring my workouts for shorter distances so I didn’t feel fully prepared but I figured I didn’t have much to lose. And, I still had the race flats.
There were unfamiliar things for me. The race was at night, as opposed to in the morning like most others, but I did a night 5K a few years ago in Phoenix so I had some relatively recent experience. The last time I did an organized track race was twenty-five years ago. I’ve run plenty on tracks but doing so in a tight space with other people is different. The shortest distance I’ve raced outside of time trials in the last twenty-five years is a 5K, so this was less than one-third of that distance.
With all of this in mind, the sun behind the horizon, and the stadium lights fully illuminating the track and stands, the starter fired her pistol. Off the line and through the first quarter, I felt like there was no way I’d be able to maintain my planned place. Yet, as I crossed the line to conclude the first lap, it hit me that I had three laps to go, not seven or eleven and a half. This is what happens when you run a distance outside of your normal repertoire. While I was still red-lining and straining, the size of the task became more manageable.
One thing that I’ve appreciated about speed work and time trials on a track is that you can easily check your pace every 100 meters and, if needed, adjust. As I finished the first 809 meters and headed into the final 800, I had maintained a good pace with some small tweaks here and there and felt solid. I couldn’t have picked up the speed but I felt confident I could hold it and maybe push a little.
There was one runner in front of me who was making the same adjustments I was, meaning my chances of catching him were small. I also suspected someone was right behind me but, per my last post, I focused on the heels of the next runner. By the end, we’d all maintained our places. My goal going into the race was 5:49 and I finished at 5:43. This was likely a combination of a conservative estimate combined with race flats. More importantly, it was fun, at least the kind of fun you have when running as hard as you can for roughly 1,080 steps. And, it was good to finally do a race distance I’d hoped to do nearly three years ago.
The track club that put this event on hosts meets during the summer. I’ve always intended to try one but this may be the nudge I needed to actually go to more of them next year. Even if you’re not perfectly prepared for an event, and whether or not you plan to run it again, doing something different can bring a little joy.