Whoops. Should have run THAT race differently. If only I had pushed harder. Not pushed so hard. Managed my energy better and run a more consistent pace. Woken up in time to eat breakfast half an hour earlier. Hydrated better the day before. Started in front of that group of walkers. Started behind that crazy fast guy with the stroller. Checked my Garmin earlier and paced myself. Worn shorts instead of pants. Not looked at my Garmin so much.
Sometimes I’m completely satisfied with a race. Then there are the races where I feel like I should have, could have done better, but I made a classic racing mistake.
My Racing Mistakes:
Pushing too hard in the first mile: I ran a 5k where I pushed too hard in the first mile, thinking that even though I had never in my life run an entire mile at an 8:50 pace, that maybe I could pull it off and then run a couple miles at a more regular pace and come in at a great time. This delusion was in part because I’d been training for a 10k, then unexpectedly signed up for a 5k that was right in my community because I knew other runners who were running it. My rationale was that if I’d been doing long runs of 6 or 7 miles, surely I could chop a minute off my pace if I were only running three. Wrong. I ended up walking over half a mile of the race, and feeling like a quitter even though it was my second fastest 5k. (Not even my fastest, thanks to walking a full half mile in the middle.)
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| There I go… too fast to maintain! |
Thinking that walking means you’re no longer in the race: I ran my fastest 5k last November, coming in two seconds under 30 minutes. Partway through, I had to start walking because I’d been pushing so hard for that goal and needed to catch my breath after a big hill on the course. It was so hard to remember that walking for a minute doesn’t mean you’ve quit the race, that clock is still going, and once you catch your breath, you can keep running your all and possibly have a better time than if you hadn’t taken the break you needed. I wish I had gotten my head back in the game sooner, because I might have shaved some more time off the clock and had an even better PR.
Not pushing myself enough because I’m too scared of not finishing: A lot of running is mental. It’s hard to push yourself to run an appropriate speed when you don’t really know what that speed should be. I’ve been focusing on adding distance to each run as I trained for my 10k, and now as I work on going from a 10k to the half marathon I’m training for in September. As I keep adding each mile, I worry that if I run too fast, I won’t be able to run that extra distance. Every other week when I add a mile to my long run, I’m running longer than I’ve ever run before. That’s daunting enough without trying to run faster, too. But I’m doing myself a disservice because when you run really slow, you’re out there running a lot longer to cover those miles! That’s what happened to me when I ran my first 10k. My goal was to finish, and run the whole thing, and when the day came and it was 80 degrees out by 8 a.m., blazing sun, and 96% humidity, I was terrified that I would push too hard and make it four miles and then walk the last two in humiliation and defeat. So I ran slow. Really slow. Slower than my easy long run pace, by 20 seconds a mile. Did I finish? You bet. Did I run the whole time? You bet. Do I wish I had pushed a little harder and been exerting myself in the glaring heat for less time that morning? Yeah, kinda. I know it was really hard, and it felt really hot, and I was terrified of getting heat stroke or something, but my legs didn’t even hurt the next day. After my longest race ever. I think I could have done better. Next time, if I can smile and say a full sentence out loud, I’m going to pick up the pace until I can grimace and say a couple words. Then I’ll be racing.
Running a race I haven’t prepared for and caring about the time: I’ve run two spontaneous races that I didn’t really train for. A New Year’s Day race that I loved, and the recent 5k where I ran a disastrously fast first mile, walked, and wasn’t happy with myself afterwards. It’s fun to have a challenging but realistic time goal, train for it, and push for it on race day. It’s also fun to sign up for an unexpected race and see what you can do. It’s not fun to run a race you haven’t trained for and then try to be really fast because you have no idea what your pace at that distance should be. I think the next time I run a spontaneous race, I will leave the Garmin at home, and just focus on how I feel when I’m running, and remind myself that I’m doing it for the miles and the experience, not the time.
Some lessons I’ve learned:
- Hydrate really well the day before the race
- Pay attention to how you’re feeling while you’re running, and use that to speed up or slow down. I like to run hard enough so I can still say a few words, but not so much that I can chit-chat.
- Don’t run races so frequently that you can’t prepare for them and see improvement, if that’s something that’s important to you. If it’s social, you’re fundraising, you love the experience, you’re not focusing on the times, then running more frequent races might be your thing.
- Know your push pace for the distance you’re running so you can target it as well as listening to your body for cues while you’re running.
- It’s a learning process. Maybe I have to run my first race of any distance a little slower than I could, just so I can have the experience of finishing and knowing I can do it before I try to do it faster.
- Sometimes, it’s good to just run and enjoy running and not worry about training for a race at all.
I think it’s important to harness disappointment and unleash it at a point when you’re running and your head wants you to give up, even though your body can probably keep going. Use it to run faster or longer or further up that hill. Don’t let it make you feel bad about your accomplishments as a runner, and don’t let it put you back on the couch. I might have run those six miles slower than I wanted, and slower than I could have if I’d been brave enough to push harder, but that’s six miles longer than I could have run a year ago. And in preparing for that 10k, I got out of the house and boosted my mood and gave myself more energy in my day dozens of times. Running is good for me, I love it, and I don’t have to always do my best to feel great and get amazing benefits from it.
That said, my slow 10k time has prompted me to pick up the pace on some of my shorter runs lately, and I’m kind of proud and excited by the progress that I’m making. Go disappointment. Go me.
Great tips!
Great post, Thanks for the tips!
I’m now reading your blog totally out of order. Blonde moment as I didn’t realise there was a page 2 or more in each of the months of archives. (I’m allowed 3 blonde moments a day, so it’s all ok, and if I don’t use them up in a day they roll over to the next day. They’re my blonde moments and my rules 🙂
Isn’t it funny how we can feel disappointed in a run when we feel we didn’t do as well as we could have.? Um, hello, WE RAN, didn’t we? What’s there to be disappointed about in that? We did a darn site better than every single person who didn’t go for a run. Every time we run we should feel that sense of accomplishment. So some runs are better than others, and some runs just plain suck. The important thing is that we went out there and ran. If we were elite or professional athletes then I think we could justify the disappointment we feel, but we are just everyday people with busy lives trying to fit in runs and gradually improve and learn lessons (sometimes the hard way) along the way. I think you’re pretty awesome being a Mum, err, Mom with 2 gorgeous kids who not only fits running into your life, but runs with those kids. Respect!
Randomly stumbled upon this blog looking for something else, but if it is still being used (or read) I would add one thing to what I’ve learned to this already great list: set a goal based on your time and not finishing position. In December I ran my 2nd fastest ever 5K on a crazy, hilly course with (on any other year looking at previous results) would have placed me top in my age group. I had hoped for top 3, I finished 6th. I was disappointed because I focused on placement rather than enjoying the fact that I ran a 5K with 7:33 pace on a course that was all hills.
A good point! As my husband often says, it’s all about who shows up. You can’t control the number and quality of competitors, even if quite frankly a 7:33 pace on a hilly course is insanely impressive in my book!