Tiddly Pom!

"The more it snows,
Tiddly Pom,
The more it goes,
Tiddly Pom,
The more it goes,
Tiddly Pom,
On Snowing,

And nobody knows
Tiddly Pom,
How cold my toes,
Tiddly Pom,
How cold my toes,
Tiddly Pom,
Are growing"

So in trying to get my blog back on an even keel I am struggling to find my "voice" to a certain extent. So stealing words from an esteemed bard seemed to be a good idea. And the sentiment struck a strong chord this week! Never knew Winnie the Pooh (for those were his words) was a Michigander!

Bugger but it keeps on snowing! Hasn't been above freezing now since I don't know when! In the mornings a temp in the mid 20's is considered a bit on the warm side. Been a good week all in all though (so I should quit my bloody whinging).

Monday, after a couple of beers on Sunday evening (to overcome the ski-associate soreness) was never going to be a morning run. But like a good chap I took kit to work and forced myself to brave the "winter weather warning" that was in place and hit the road at lunch time. Sidewalks were on the definite slick side which prompted a bit more caution than I would have liked. Pushed when could but finished feeling relatively good in 38:30 for 5.1 miles. Yeah I know that's slow, but you weren't there buddie - it was a fair effort. Tuesday morning and it was a morning run - usual route - but in the spirit of the moment a bit of a harder run than usual. Aiming for pain and "hey" be careful what you ask for. Run hard on the pavement and try to stay fluid on the trail. As soddin' ever no obvious track over school fields so break trail again.

Thursday run at work again and am feeling it a bit more now - put a pretty good effort in, despite some dodgy underfoot conditions to finish the 5.1 usual route pretty much exhausted in 36:44. Bit of mental calculation and a target of sub 33:00 is in place if the Flying Pig is to go as planned. Some work to do. Friday and despite a weeks worth of tired I manage to drag my sorry arse out of bed and do a longer run - add a loop onto Grand River road (adds about 1.5 miles) to make my Friday run 6.5-7.0 miles. Guess what? Bloody school fields!! Been snowing again so no soddin' trail. Last 2 miles a slog through freash snow. In the dark at one point (as life ceases to have any real meaning) I am half convinced I am (in the light of my LED headlamp, trying to find a trail in the snow, with a vicious wind blowing) actually on Mount Everest dreaming of being safely back in Michigan! Wot a saft bastard I am!! Should stop reading all those mountaineering books.

On Friday I plan my weekend runs, two options (i) a long(ish) run though the trails or (ii) as I had planned weeks ago enter and run the Polar Bear 5 K in Okemos. The idea here is that I need, speed and competition to sharpen up my running. And a competitive 5 K will fit snugly into the need for pain that I am trying to establish. I don't like running 5 K, too short, too painful. Also it exposes your speed (or lack thereof) rather unsympathetically. I um'ed and arh'ed. Looked at the web site, checked last years results - not reassuring!! The places 2-7 were all taken by highschool XC runners! Oh so no pressure then! Like I really want my arse handed me on a platter by a group of guys too bloody young to date my eldest daughter!

But you know, in life you have to make decisions. And I always say to my group at work that they should never be afraid to fail. that always succeeding is a sign of not setting your standards high enough! Holy Mary Mother of God!!! If I'm going to talk the talk maybe I ought to freakin well walk the walk! Realized I have never, ever really set myself up to fail. And I consider that a weakness in my character. I have friends who have entered races and just not been able to finish! I have never done that. Time I learn to live a little - in short it is time I "grew a pair" for F's sake.

In a small step toward this lofty goal I signed up for the 5 k and felt the usual nervousness that accompanies any competitive race for me. I try and establish a number of "game plans" one is to try and track the highschoolers and let them pull me along. Another is to take it like a time trial on a bike and just expend my energy evenly across the course. A couple of goals were set, under 20 min as a minimum and sub 18:30 as a more realistic vision of what I should be capable of.

RACE DAY!!!

A dinner party the night before (at our house) was not the ideal preparation - but I was careful and didn't drink that much. So no hangover to deal with. Temp a solid 20 oF. No worries.

At the start and the usual group of fit and not so fit looking runners - I know enough to ignore what people look like as this tends to be a very poor predictor of how they will run. But the group of highschool runners is impossible to miss. I'm not sure what a group of high school runners is called - maybe a "stride" or a "bound" but they occupy space with an air of confidence which is most un-nerving to a guy (like me) whose chronological age could comfortably shallow any two of their's.

When the air horn signals the start of the race I decide to try and trail the highschoolers. A (very) young and (very) black guy takes off like a rocket - and we never see him again. He is 17 as it turns out and wins the race by a street in 16 min and change! Not sure what his story is but would be very interested to know. What I dop know is that there is a similarly African looking lady running and she passes me after about a minute with a smooth running style that makes me feel like the rusty old Model T that I am. I have no option but to let her go. By the time we turn off the road onto the trail section I am feeling the pace - I have the kind of O2 debt that makes MMA fighter tap out and mountaineers to reach for the O2 bottles. I assume I am probably at around the 6 min mark and grasp a quick glace at my watch. Shock horror!! It reads 2:30 - this is going to be a very long race! I have to settle down, screw the young kids, let them go! Settle my pace and breathing to a comfortable rhythm. The kids have snuck 15-20 feet on me but now I am holding my own. Guy at the side of the trail is shouting out numbers, 5:45, 5:46, 5:47. Even in my anoxic state I register that this is probably the mile marker. Gadzooks Batman!! I'm still in the game. Focus on smooth strides and all that crap. A guy comes to my shoulder and we run together for a while (I assume its another highschooler, but a glance sideways tells me it's another old bugger like me - BOLLOCKS). Together we start to gain on the youngun's in front and eventually overtake a group - including the first women (who in passing I nearly trip in a Zola Bud, Mary Dekker like incident. Fortunately no harm no foul.

At nearly two miles I pull ahead of old guy but at 2 miles he passes me and I have no response. Especially as another runner pulls to my shoulder then past me! Crap whole thing is going to hell! Then we hit March Road and know less than a mile to go. Head down and press. Two runners come back to me and I pass them. Couple of nasty little inclines I wasn't expecting where the left sidewalk (heading south) drops down below road level - only 10-15 feet but ashock!. That and the icey conditions are a challenge. Very, very pleased when the runners ahead turn right into the village center - means less than 0.2 miles to go. As I turn the corner MLW shouts out "come on, nearly there" then "he's right behind you, don't let him past!" Yeah I knew there was a runner on my shoulder, but MLW shout had a Pavlovian effect. I started sprinting and finished the race at a canter!! 18:18, good enough for 4th overall and second master (bugger), still first in age group (40-44) and beat all but two of the highschoolers. Pain and a reasonable time - not a bad day. Followed by XC ski-ing for good measure!!

Life is good!


DB