State Games of America Recap

What a weekend!

The State Games of America were held up in Hershey, PA this past week and I had qualified for them in the Commonwealth Games of Virginia in both the 1500 and the 800.  It’s a national competition and I was going to get to run against some really fast folks again.  The last time I did that was in March in Landover, MD and I actually didn’t finish last which was a pleasant surprise.  These races turned out to be more like pleasant shocks!

To start things off since the events were pretty close to my blogging and running cohort, Bobbo, I got to see him and a bunch of friends during the weekend.  Bob and his much lovelier half put on a cookout on Saturday afternoon that was just wonderful.  Hanging out with some of the great folks in the Breakfast Club Runners is just terrific because they’re all just so cool.  Borderline psychotic, definitely neurotic and somewhat demented, you know . . . they’re Runners.  Listening to them talk about running Ultras, competing in CrossFit games, and fantastic training stories.  Great food and fun.  Plus I got to meet more of them this time around and make new friends.

Bobbo saving a village while running a race on his way to pick up food for the cookout.

 

My events were going off Sunday, so I checked out a little early and drove back to the hotel to get some sleep, but instead kept waking up every hour or so thinking about splits.  I had gone online and looked through the competitors and saw that there were only 6 guys showing up in my age group.  Even though every one of them was faster than me I was happy that I could lock up the Top 10 finish I was hoping for coming into the meet.  There must’ve been 15 guys in the 800 but since that wasn’t a real focus for me I didn’t bother looking to see if I was faster than any of those guys.  A quick glance told me there were some that looked to be slower, but you never know what times somebody uses when they register for a meet.

The reduced crowd of racers was due mainly because there had been two other Masters National meets in the last several weeks in different parts of the country.  Some people had obviously gone to Kansas and not here to Pennsylvania.  Still, they were sub-5 guys and I had just run that frustrating 5:16 two weeks ago.  I just wanted to run a smart race and do as well as I could.

The weather was perfect Sunday morning.  Sunny but cool.  And the track was fantastic: a big stadium with 8 lanes of high quality racing surface.  Bob even came out to watch along with Mel and Kim.  So very cool of them to make the long drive down, and I really didn’t want to disappoint them for making the effort.  We sat up in the bleachers and I talked about my goals for my splits and we enjoyed the other events and competitors.

While we sat, and then as I began my warm up, the wind began to pick up.  At first it wasn’t too bad and just seemed to be gusty, but as I ran back and forth on the back stretch with a couple of the other 1500 runners it became a pretty steady, and very stiff, breeze.  Came in sort of diagonally and down the home stretch.  The closer it got to race time for us the worse it got.  Everybody started saying things like, “kiss any PR hopes goodbye” and “going to be a tactical race now.”  I went up and got my spikes and went back down to the track to try a couple of 50m strides into the wind.  Whoa.  I was going to need to find someone to draft behind.  Which is what everyone else was thinking, too.

They ran three heats of the 1500 and I was in the second one where they were able to get all of the 50 to 54’s and 55 to 59’s in the same heat.  I recognized a couple of the guys from March, but not all of them.  “Doesn’t matter,” I told myself “just don’t go out faster than 60 seconds the first 300.”  I had my splits down to run a 5 flat, but knew the wind was going to make things rough, so I just wanted to make sure I didn’t go out too fast or burn myself up running into the wind each lap.

The gun sounded and we took off at a very comfortable pace for me.  Several guys pulled ahead, but not all of them.  I was running fourth and falling back, but I didn’t want to rush up to catch third and draft behind him.  I knew that would pull me through the first lap too quickly, so I kept my pace steady hoping that someone would come around me.  They didn’t.  If anything they were drafting on me, but I couldn’t really tell how close they were and I wasn’t going to look.  Screw it.  Show me what you got wind.

It was blowing hard.  I looked at my watch at the 200m mark and was right on 40 seconds which was exactly where I wanted to be.  I pushed a little up the straight and crossed the finish line in 60 seconds.  Dead on my goal pace and I didn’t feel too beat up from that headwind.  However, I did have three laps to go and I wasn’t near any of the front three anymore.  I shook that off and just tried to hold my pace for another lap before trying to push it a little in the Go Zone.  That’s the third quarter of any race.  The time where lots of time is usually lost, so I push it a little then to keep on track.

That's my legs back in fourth place with 1 and half to go.

 

I came around with two to go and had fallen off pace a little seeing 2:24 on my watch.  I hadn’t pushed into the wind this time but thought I maintained the same speed.  Nope.  That wind was brutal.  I still felt pretty fresh so I surged some after I got out of the headwind in the first turn and relaxed some down the back stretch using the tailwind to carry me without expending too much energy.  I was still all alone in fourth as I hit the stretch again and took the wind full in the face.  This time I knew I was slowed up but was surprised to see how slow when I crossed with one to go and saw 3:53.  The goal was to be at 3:40 and I had just accelerated some but was still backing up!

My pacing had paid off , though, and I felt pretty good so I pushed down the back straight and my friend C.L. who was running in the next heat yelled at me that the guy in front of me was fading.  “Get your head up!” He yelled.  “You can get that guy! Go! Go!”  I looked up and saw that his form was crumbling and knew C.L. was right.  I rolled up steadily so I was pushing hard with 200 to go.  I caught him in the turn and passed him easily. 

Coming out of the last turn with only 125 to go and way back in third place.

 

I kept my head up and saw the second place guy struggling with the wind in the beginning of the straight and I knew I was about to get hit with it, too.  My heart and lungs were screaming at me, but my legs weren’t rubbery yet.  I leaned through the turn then forward into the wind drifting slightly wide as I closed on the guy in front of me.  I wanted to just give in, but saw him struggling and then realized I could beat him to the line.

I pumped my arms and pushed off the ground with each stride, and slowly, very slowly, got to him and moved into second! 

Got him!

 

Those last 20 meters seemed to take forever, because now my legs were rubber and I was beginning to do the Skeleton Dance, but I was past him and across the line in 5:12. 

Held him off to the end.

 

I could not believe I had just gotten 2^nd in this meet!  I was just shaking my head and smiling as I made my way across the track and over to the bleachers to everybody and they were all smiles, too.  Here I had thought I was going to get 6th, maybe 5^th and I had locked up a Silver medal in a national competition.

Bob, Mel and Kim went to get something to eat and I threw on my warmups and laid down on the bleachers to rest for about 15 minutes.  After that I would need to start warming up for the 800.  I drank some Gatorade and downed some Gu to help minimize the leg cramps that always seemed to come up during the first lap of any 800 I run after racing a 1500.  Plenty of fluids, keep my legs up, stretch and use the Stick to roll out the knots in my calves; that routine has helped out a lot from the first couple of times I did these doubles.

As I began my warmup I started talking with the guy who beat me in the 1500.  His name is Steve and he’s a very accomplished runner.  He just came off another sub-3 hour Marathon in the winter and has been working to get his speed back for races like the 1500 and 800.  He was a little disappointed in his 1500 but the wind was just terrible.  He ran a 5:05.  Normally he’s well below 5 minutes.  He didn’t seem to know many of the guys in the 800 either, but we knew that a bunch of them didn’t run in the 1500.   “I’m going to tuck in behind somebody this time,”  He said.  “Ditto,” I replied.

We both figured that we would settle in and let some folks get up ahead of us and then draft around for the first lap.  I didn’t really let on that I pretty much knew I would be at the back of the pack anyways.  He just assumed that since I finished second in the 1500 I would be up there with him in this race, too.

He and I ended up next to each other on the starting line on the two inside lanes and I said I’d give anyone outside the room to slide in front of me; him included.  He politely declined to have me draft off of him and we laughed a bit as the starter called us to the line.  When the gun sounded I took a couple of quick strides and then settled into about the same pace I run for the 1500, and in this crowd I figured that had to be way too slow for any of them to put up with.  However, Steve sat on my shoulder and when we came out of the first turn no one was moving by us.

“What?” Steve said looking over his shoulder.

“Come on guys,” I mumbled because I really did not want to lead this group through that headwind and I was doing everything I thought I could to make them want to pass me.   “They’re not coming,” Steve said as we entered the turn and into that rotten wind.  I was stuck being the leader even though I was going so slow.  Steve stepped out to my side and said, “it wouldn’t be right for me to draft you.”

“No, you’re fine,” I replied.

You know it’s a slow pace in an 800 if anyone does anything more than grunt, and here we were talking to each other.

We got to the bell lap right on 1:21 and then Steve sort of bolted out in front.  I felt really good and accelerated as well, but by the end of that turn he had 20 meters on me easy.  He looked strong down the back stretch and was moving away from me even though I was accelerating, too.  Once again, C.L. was there on the infield encouraging me on.

“Keep your eyes on his back!  At 200 to go, GO!!”

I was breathing hard, but that slow first lap left me with a lot in my legs and I knew I could turn a fast 200.  I got to that line and leaned into the turn driving hard.  I kept my head up and tried to look like a sprinter, running tall and loose.  As I came into the straight and that headwind Steve was still ahead of me but he looked back and I closed on him a little. I knew right then that I had more speed in me and also that this was going to hurt when I finished.  But I wanted this finish.  I did all that I could to get up on my toes and move into full on sprint mode as he looked back again.  70 some meters to go and I was giving it everything I had and getting even closer.  It was right after that I realized he was struggling and I could get him.

I gritted my teeth and tried to push everything I had into my arms and legs, but kept my form together so I wouldn’t lose anything there.  Even with all the effort I felt very strong and knew I was fast even with the wind pushing against me.  As I passed Steve he let out a groan and I pushed onto and through the line pumping my fist in the air.

I had not won a race since my Junior year in high school and here I just won one in a national competition!

I staggered forward and bent over begging for air to get in me and for my legs not to fold up.  Even though my stomach was in a knot I was grinning and trying not to cry.

 

Yep, that's the moment right there.

“YOU!” I heard Steve rasp, “Ran a hell of a race. (pant) I couldn’t hold you off.  (pant) Nice kick. (gasp) Geez.”  We shook hands and I turned and saw Bob, Mel and Kim down by the fence all ready.  So, so very cool to have them there!

I have to admit that later I was a little disappointed when another guy in my age group in the second heat beat my time, but medaling again with a kick that no one else on the track could handle, was just miraculous to me.   Crossing that finish line first wasn’t anything I had dreamed of or imagined.  And the fact that it did actually happen still amazes me.

I came to this meeting with the hopes of doing a little better than I did at Indoor Nationals, and left with two Silver Medals.

Yeah.

I’m still smiling.