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The Runner’s Curse (aka, No I Won’t Let You Pass Me)

Posted: September 3, 2008
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Author: Shéamus
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Filed under: Motivation, Observations, Workouts
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Tags: No tags set for this entry.

Day 94 I have this thing I do when I run that’s not really all that productive. It’s not a nightmare, but certainly when I move up to longer races (much longer) it could actually hurt me.

It comes in two forms:

When I’m running and I see another runner ahead of me in the distance, I can’t really rest until I’ve caught and passed them, and
If somebody dares to catch up with me from behind I will put my foot down and ensure they don’t dream of such a fanciful thought ever again, even if it means a ridiculous pace that I have to hold for a mile or more despite both of my knees bleeding and suffering extreme dehydration

The latter happened today. It was interesting, because at the time it occurred I was reminded of that scene in The Bourne Identity when Bourne was trying to explain to Marie how he can possibly know and do all these crazy things, yet have no idea who he actually is.

“I can tell you the license plate numbers of all six cars outside. I can tell you that our waitress is left-handed and the guy sitting up at the counter weighs two hundred fifteen pounds and knows how to handle himself. I know the best place to look for a gun is the cab of the gray truck outside, and at this altitude, I can run flat out for a half mile before my hands start shaking. Now why would I know that? How can I know that and not know who I am?”

The BBC got it wrong. Well, actually, earlier in the week they got it right, but they changed their forecast and today’s projected 15mph winds turned into a 30mph+ nightmare. It was the worst day yet. That first mile was so difficult, the fact that I got even near to eight-minutes flat was something of a miracle. By the end mile two I was toast. My knees were aching because I was leaning forward trying to cut through the wind, which put more weight on them at an unusual angle, and they hated me for it.

Miles three and four I had the wind behind me for most of it, and really it was like sitting on a chair. The problem was, even though my splits here were reasonable, my legs were still fried from the effort of the first fifteen minutes.

By the start of mile five, I was back into the wind again, which roared its anger at me for daring to take advantage of it, and at that point I was like, “Fuck it. Just get it done in less than nine minutes and then you can go and lie down somewhere and die.”

This continued for about a quarter-mile. Right about then, I looked over my left shoulder, and saw another runner approaching.

He’d clearly just started his run. He looked fresh. He was running quite well, hunched over a little like I was but easing his way through the wind in a pace that was more than a little frustrating. Subconsciously, my own pace quickened, and my 8:43 disaster was suddenly a reasonable 8:10. Then a 7:50. Then a 7:40. Then a 7:30…

Before I knew it, I was running 7:15. Worse, the runner was staying with me. He’d definitely quickened his pace as the distance between us, some twenty yards, never narrowed. He obviously assumed that my opening speed was how it was going to be.

He was wrong.

Three-quarters of a mile later, after running pretty much flat-out between 7:00 and 7:20, I’d reached the five-mile point, my goal, and thankfully got to stop. By this time, I’d opened up about a 100-yard gap between the two of us. Just because I’m a man and this is how it is to have an ego, I crossed the road to the other side so he didn’t think I’d stopped because I was exhausted. I was exhausted, but I didn’t want him to know that, did I, especially as I was always going to stop at five-miles anyway.

If he’d have stayed within 20 yards of me, I imagine my ego would also have kept me going for God only knows how long, too. We may still be out there right now.

So, I want to say ‘thanks’ to Mr Runner. Without him today, my very difficult five-miler would have been a 41-minute disaster as opposed to, in the conditions, a fairly reasonable 39:59. It’s always good to go under forty.

As I said, in longer races - certainly if and when I move up to ultra-distances - the mentality of not letting people pass you or certainly trying to chase down everybody ahead is a potentially disasterous one. However, for ten miles or less, it seems to work just fine.

Splits:

Day 94 - Splits