Ran like a dog, but I certainly wasn't alone. Woke up feeling flat, knowing in my bones that the die had been cast after far too many late bedtimes the past week or so. Then the weather became hotter and windier than forecast. By race time it was around 80 degrees with a sustained wind hitting us on the backstretch. All this meant my already modest expectations were further tempered, and I planned to follow people even if it meant running a slower pace than what it felt I could do. This sort of worked, except for the fact that the people I followed kept fading one after the other. Twice in the first half of the race a guy made a move that I felt compelled to cover, which led to their ruin within two laps. Eventually I found myself leading the chase pack around the 4km mark, knowing I was probably going to get hauled in by the guy tucked in behind me. Which is exactly what happened, any hopes of a heroic finish wilted in the heat. The km splits tell the story quite clearly:
3:06 (pipe dream)
3:08
3:10
3:11
3:13
Meanwhile, I moved up smartly through the pack the entire time. What a world. For the first time that I can remember, there was literally no cooldown to speak of, as I had other plans for the evening that required immediate attention. Got home late, got to sleep even later as I was stuck in a caffeinated state. And the beat goes on.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment