"You're still a shit sandwich, just not a soggy one!" This is how I felt about myself last Friday evening after the Billy Irvin 5K. Mental toughness is something that I haven't struggled w/in quite sometime but of late it needs to be addressed. I've had many solid workouts in the past five weeks that were indicative of me getting a personal best for the course. There has been only one other time that I entered this race and I stopped the clock in 17:59 back in my twenties, I'm in my thirties now. Despite the aforementioned, I'm a strong believer in the cliche phrase, age is just a number. Performing at 5000m over the road has seen me display a rather huge spread of times during the last two years. Focusing on ultras the previous season could most likely explain some of this. Challenging as it has proved to be, the speed is beginning to reveal itself from deep within my legs.
It was obvious to all inside the DRC booth at the expo where I've been spending my time based on tan lines. Regardless, cross-training is something I value and so this makes running an integral part of my formula to ready for cyclocross. Exchanging some banter w/Tony before leaving my packet w/him always sets the mood prior to the gun firing. I'd head outside to find myself really having trouble warming up and feeling loose. Leaving my bike @ work and running down to Canal Park, apparently, wasn't enough movement to prime my engine. Taking a handful of laps around the DECC grew concern that I'd burn the little fuel ingested. So, I decided to stand around chatting amongst people and use the opening mile which would see us being nudged along by mother nature's assistance to hopefully find a rhythm. My split was 5:28 and I knew this pace came under LT effort but everything seemed wrong. I tried getting my head in the right place as I approached the cone on the end of Railroad just before Garfield. Returning against such a breeze usually doesn't bother me, yet, I chose to hate it even w/o seeing what fight might ensue. The fans yelling my name every 1/8-mile was greatly appreciated but may not have seemed like it if you received a smirk while I sucked ass. Oh well, it's because of you people that I undoubtedly recall yelling at myself, "get out of your own way & shut the f!@# up!!!!!!!!!" Cruising down from the aquarium I was pissed but noticed my desire to chase was at least half there. Seeing the clock tick by gave me hope as my real estate to cover appeared feasible and the chip on the mat scored 17:56 for this whiner.
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