Will Run for Tacos Cinco de Mile 5-Mile Race Report

It was a nice, clear, beautiful Spring morning for the Will Run for Tacos Cinco de Mile 5-Mile race. The good weather brought out a good turnout of runners and lots of good competition. I ran fast, and I’m quite proud of my performance. Afterward, the tacos were extremely tasty.

Not one of those previous statements is even remotely true. Here’s the real story.

I’m officially on fire. Not in terms of running. It’s the post-race taco. Not totally aware or even coherent, I had waited in line after the race, and received a lukewarm soft taco wrapped in foil. I had unwrapped the foil and opened the taco to discover a thin smear of meat, sauce, perhaps melted cheese, and maybe some other stuff. I wasn’t concerned about anything unhealthy therein, because there was so little of it. At the next station, I had squirted on some hot sauce and added lettuce. Then I’d found a warm corner inside where I could stand up and enjoy my meal. It's hot! It is three-alarm-fire hot; I’d added too much of the much-too-hot sauce. Of course, I consume it anyway. It’s been that kind of morning.

The Will Run for Tacos event takes place in the Tremont Neighborhood of Cleveland. The weather is awful – 37F with cold, drizzly rain. I don’t want to get out of my car, but I eventually do go for a short warmup run. Then I line up with the 5K runners as well as 94 other 5-Mile runners. The race is simply out and back on the Towpath Trail. I think this part is fairly new; it certainly is for me. It runs more or less along the West Bank of the Cuyahoga River. 

Even though I hadn’t warmed up properly due to the cold, damp weather, the first mile goes well. Of course, that’s because it’s downhill. I am gonna pay coming back. At 2 ½ miles, we turn around, and I eventually start going back up. Yes, I do pay, big time. My last mile turns out to be my slowest. It’s the opposite of last week’s race.

My time is 42:24, good for first in my ancient age group. That 8:29 pace is slower than last week’s pace for double the distance. I have some work to do.

Ludicrous and other speeds

It all started with the film Ben-Hur. Remember the slave rowers on the Roman warship? Based on orders from the Admiral, the guy beating the drums increased his cadence from ‘battle speed’ to ‘attack speed,’ and all the way up to ‘ramming speed.’ The rowers had to match the drumming cadence, and naturally had a tough time at the higher speeds.

Then there was ‘warp speed’. Warp speed is a term popularized by Star Trek to describe faster-than-light travel, which has since entered the public lexicon to mean an extremely fast pace.

In Star Wars, ‘hyperspace’ is an alternate dimension allowing faster-than-light travel, enabling ships to cross the galaxy by bypassing real-space limitations. Navigated via computers to avoid stellar "mass shadows," it uses hyperdrives, often colloquially termed ‘lightspeed,' though actual speeds vary for plot purposes, frequently appearing as near-instantaneous travel.

This brings us to ‘ludicrous speed.’ Ludicrous speed is the faster-than-light speed from the 1987 movie Spaceballs, surpassing ‘light speed' and ‘ridiculous speed’ to reach ‘plaid’. Ordered by Dark Helmet, it requires extreme safety precautions (fastening seatbelts, securing the zoo) and causes physical discomfort. It is famously faster than light, which is considered "too slow".

The best speed of all, however, is ‘speedwork speed.’ Dan attempted to achieve this particular speed during today’s Yasso workout at the Brunswick Middle School Track. Although Dan did do ten 800s, it didn’t happen. His interval speed didn’t even reach battle speed. Maybe next week.

500 million Chinese don't know you're playing

In my younger days, UCLA had a basketball coach named John Wooden. His teams were highly successful, winning championship after championship. Yet he was known to be very down to earth. I recall a story about him trying to calm his team down prior to yet another National Championship Game. To try to help them understand that although sports are important, they should be kept in perspective, he told them, "There are 500 million Chinese who don't even know you are playing." Of course, nowadays, there are two and a half times that many Chinese, and many of them do know at least something about U.S. college hoops. More concerning to me is that my recollection isn't as accurate as I thought. I now find that the quote should be attributed to American sports commentator and former coach Bill Raftery, not John Wooden. Oh well.

I bring all this up because even though I was pleased as punch with myself after yesterday's 10-mile race, it isn't quite the cat's meow of road racing. As far as I can tell, I ran two ten-mile races slower and a whole bunch faster. This run was nearly a personal worst! My fastest ten is nearly 20-minutes better. I just compiled a list. I am probably missing several, but here it is.

Hermes Cleveland 10 Miler Race Report

Before the start at Edgewater

“You gotta be kidding me,” I say out loud. I don’t think any of the other runners heard, though. That’s important because there may have been an expletive between the words, ‘be’ and ‘kidding’. I am referring to the hill that keeps on going at mile 7 of the Hermes Cleveland 10 Miler. We’d already been going up, climbing out of Wendy Park and the Flats, but now we have to go up and onto some bridges, where we go up some more. My first five miles had all been under 8:20, but mile six, which was also uphill, was slower. Now I wind up with a disastrous 9:06 split for mile seven.

Worst of all, Warren Elzy is now long-gone. I had been fairly close behind, but now I can hardly see him on the straight-aways. He’d pulled much farther ahead on these hills. Warren is in my age group. I remember racing against him on several occasions, but it’s been a while. He usually beats me, and it looks like that’s going to happen again today. I am not sure where my other age-group competitors are at this point.

The Hermes Cleveland 10 Miler starts and finishes at Edgewater Park in Cleveland. It’s a wonderful park, even on a cool, dreary morning. Cool and misty turn out to be just the ticket for good racing, however. For most runners. After my solid first half but drastic slowdown, will I be able to salvage this race?

Miles eight and nine are not so hilly, and my mile splits are in the 8:20s. As I suspected, mile ten is downhill. Downhill all the way. I am surprised to spot Warren ahead of me. He’s slowing down a whole lot, and I’m speeding up. I pass him just before the final downhill section leading to the finish line at the Edgewater Boathouse Pavilion. It’s a 7:10 mile. Yes, it’s downhill, but I can’t remember the last time I ran this fast.

We talk after the finish. Warren had sustained an injury, and that’s what had slowed him down. I learn that I won the age group with a time of 1:22:53, an 8:17 pace. I’m pretty happy with all that. I’ll take a win any way I can get it. Legally, of course.

Here's the finish. Guess who's happy it's over?

The worm and I

When stretched out, my nightcrawler is a good six inches long. Wait. That didn't sound quite right. I'm talking about a real worm here, folks.

Call him Ishmael. Ishmael is in lane six, and he is indeed about a half-foot long. He appears to be making his way toward lane one. Maybe the grass (or at least the grass roots) is greener inside the oval. Coincidentally, I am also in lane six, but I try to avoid squishing Ishmael. I'm beginning the final five miles of my long run here at the track. Will I be able to finish up before Ishmael does? Will I be able to finish up at all?

Despite great weather and an excellent start with running partners Michelle Kelly-Daum, Chadwick Sunday, and Otis, the quality of this run had deteriorated quickly. After a whole lot of back-and-forth running at Lake Medina, my mile splits were getting worse and worse. By the time I was at mile thirteen (my friends were done and long-gone), I'd begun to question my sanity. Not that there was much worth questioning. What would a sane runner do? Probably quit. What did I do? Drive over to the track to finish the run there, of course.

Why the track? I wish I could say. For some reason, when a long run is going particularly poorly, sometimes switching to a track can help. I wish I knew what that reason was. And I also wish I could say why this strategy works sometimes and not others.

Thankfully, it does work today. I manage to run each mile a little bit faster. I note Ishmael's progress each time I go by. After some initial progress, he seems to be floundering. I guess I will be able to finish before he does. As I begin my final mile, I decide that as I complete the run, I'll pick Ishmael up and place him back on the grass. I'm sure he will appreciate the gesture. I'd do it now, but I don't want to stop; mile 18 will be the fastest, and you don't run a fast mile if you stop to pick up worms.

I come around for my penultimate lap, and what do I see? Mrs. Robin is standing on the track, munching away at Ishmael. She hops away a little as I go by. Ishmael is in her mouth. It appears to be Mrs. Robin's lucky day. Ishmael's, not so much. As I finish my final lap, both Mrs. Robin and Ishmael are gone without a trace.

My desperate strategy worked. Although Saturday's run was much better overall, I finished today's run, and I finished it well. Ishmael's day could have been better.

~ Eighteen ~

A long time ago, I read a running article that informed me that 18 miles was a long run. Not 10, not 15, not 20 or 24. I can't remember why the author landed on that exact number. I think it was something about running for about three hours and also around 30 kilometers. A point was made that runners, especially those training for marathons, simply do not need anything further. 

I took the message to heart. Prior to that, my long runs were 20 miles or longer. 19.4 miles? Not a long run. 20.1 miles? Long run. But afterward, I only needed to get up to 18. Now, 18 is my standard long distance, and I do these runs weekly, almost year-round. At the end of a marathon training cycle, I do increase my long run distance a little.

Such was the case today. I was at Chippewa Lake, and I wanted a 20. Could I manage to do it? And how would I feel for those final few miles? It would be a good test.

Guess what? I passed. It took a lot of help from my friends. But I got 21 in, and the last few were decently fast. 

Julie, Kate, Sharon, Harold, Dan, Debbie, Laura, Kelly

Upswing

I hesitate to say that I'm on the upswing. That's due to the possible jinx effect of saying anything positive or hopeful about oneself. Maybe I'll temper the enthusiasm a little by simply saying that I'm doing a little better these days. Better than what, you ask? Dealer's choice; take your pick. If thumbscrews are applied, I suppose I might say I'm running my best so far this year. Yet I still have a way to go before I approach my best running of last, or previous years.

Today's slow speedwork is excusable. After Sunday's Half, I didn't expect much. And guess what? Much didn't happen. And I'm okay with that.