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.
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