Race Report: Cherry Tree Ten Miler

I wish more races happened in the afternoon. Or on Tuesdays. The weekend morning start makes it pretty tough to go out and get stinking drunk on a Friday or Saturday evening. After 2 paltry drinks last night, I was tucked into bed to get plenty of sleep ahead of this morning's Cherry Tree Ten Miler in Prospect Park. Don't get me wrong; I prefer the 10am start over, say 8am. But that's because you finish at an hour during which its more likely to be culturally acceptable to begin drinking. You see how we've come full circle on this issue?

Going into this race, I toyed with the idea of running at goal race pace: 8:00/mile. Of course, when I woke up this morning and it was windy inside my apartment, I suspected perhaps conditions weren't ripe for such an ambitious run. A quick check of weather.com confirmed a "feels like" temp of 15. I hate your rotten guts, winter.

I headed out about 9:30 to take some easy warm up miles and found Maria, Elyssa, and TK near the start. We shot the shit for a while and then headed down to the start, whining about how little we were looking forward to waiting in the cold and windy start corral.

On the walk, I talked with Elyssa about my goals for the day and was backpedaling on the whole goal marathon pace run. In my defense, I have a few goal race pace runs built into my training, and today wasn't scheduled to be one of them. Elyssa suggested I try to run negative splits; a three loop course, I'd aim to run each progressively faster, racing the last one. Strategy: crafted.

We didn't have time to whine any further about waiting in the start corral because before we'd even reached the start, the horn went off and the runners around us surged forward. Oops - gotta run!

My race strategy lasted for all of one mile. I have no explanation for this. I felt good, sure, but not like "oh my God, hand me the bun huggers because I am Kara Goucher." But for whatever reason, I pushed it. When I hit the hill on the first loop, I was thankful for having finished those hill repeats earlier in the week; I was prepared for how long it would hurt. Better still, I cruised down the next hill and hit my first sub-8:00 mile of the race at mile 3.

I flew through mile 4 at 7:25 and wondered if Carl the Garmin was hungover, because that didn't seem possible. Immediately after Carl beeped for mile 4, my shoe came untied and I had to stop for about 30 seconds or so (note to self: you suck at shoe tying).

I decided to finish out loop 2 hard and reassess for loop 3; this was, after all, supposed to be a long, slow distance run. But I was still feeling good after nearly 7; what's another three miles among gals who are looking forward to complimentary mimosas at brunch following the race?

By the last loop, something weird was happening; I was ahead of goal marathon pace, and I wasn't hating it. The last pass of the hill was a challenge, but I knew that I could cruise home from there. I hadn't dropped a mile above 8:00 since mile 5, and with downhills between me and the finish, I was actually going to hit my goal.

I took the last mile neck and neck with a dude, and we silently pushed each other all out (unfortunately he took the win, but was a good sport at the finish, thanking me for making him work for it). Unofficial finish:1:16:40. That's a 7:40 pace. That's not something I could do over ten miles. Until now. Boom!

I was so surprised I wasn't even psyched. Also, I was wet, cold, and ready for brunch. Which ruled. Reconvened with Maria and Elyssa at the finish, and picked up Eissa as well and headed into the Slope for a dry clothes and a delicious feast. And unlimited mimosas. I guess Sunday morning races aren't that bad after all.