How to Shave Your 5K and Win Second Place in Your Age Group

Back on January 22, 2008, I was dumb enough had enough foresight to enter the Shave Your 5k Challenge, sponsored by the twisted encouraging Half-Fast.

Had I known on January 1, 2008, the day I ran the 5k that set the time that I would need to shave, that I would be entering this challenge, it's entirely possible that I would have run much slower. However, I didn't know, because he hadn't invented it yet, so I awoke on Jan. 1 and ran my fastest 5k ever, in a blazing 30:15 (9:46 min./mile).

Except that the Shave Your 5k Challenge has been weighing on me ALL YEAR. For 354 (give or take) days, I've been walking around thinking, "Jeanne, you NEED to find another 5k before the year is out! And then you need to run it faster!"

HF laid out the terms and conditions in excruciating detail, but here's the essence:

The basic idea is to see who can shave the most time off their 5K time during 2008, so everyone will run a 5K at the beginning of the year and another one at the end of the year. The winner is the person that shows the greatest improvement.

At the very last minute, I managed to find a 5k with a $5 entrance fee: the Potomac Valley Track Club 5k Christmas Caper. I showed up Saturday morning at 8:00 for an 8:30 start on the lovely, windy, cold, godforsaken Hain's Point.

It was cold.

Cleverly, I had specifically designed my last post to set up all the reasons why I not only would NOT be shaving my 5k, it would in fact have grown a beard.

But hope springs eternal and the mind is a powerful tool as Number One Daughter's boyfriend is fond of pointing out. So I set my brain for 29:59.

There was a field of about 164 (or exactly 164). The start was a chalk line on the ground, and a piece of cardboard stuck on a stake, as were the mile markers. The start signal was someone yelling "go."

As always I had a carefully thought out strategy: Run like hell until you drop. You know, the same plan the experts recommend.

Mile 1: 9:13

My heart did feel like it was going to break, and I had to give myself a talking-to: "Don't worry about what will happen in mile 3, just keep going. Try to pass people."

So I did.

"That guy who is breathing up your arse? Do. Not. Let. Him. Bother. You."

So I didn't.

"Do NOT look at that watch or I will hurt you. DO. NOT. LOOK."

So I didn't.

I missed mile markers 2 and 3, but somewhere around mile 2.something, while I was busy bargaining with myself ("Just get to that tree and you can walk. O.K. you really don't need to walk we have BEEN THROUGH THIS BEFORE, no walking but you can slow down. A little. Oh forget it, you can't do this WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE") someone jumped out and took a photo. He yelled "Hi Jeanne!" None other than D.C. Spinster, coaching his crew in the half-marathon program. I have my own paparazzi. Just sayin'.

That jolted me awake. Now the mental calculations began. I allowed myself to glance at my watch and saw 26 minutes elapsed. I thought I had about half a mile to go (NOT) which I figured I could do in 5 minutes IF I KILLED MYSELF. "What's the point," I thought, "you've already lost." (I specialize in this kind of self help. Call me for a consultation.)

But as I neared the point of Hain's Point, I saw some people hanging around, some webbing, something looked different, holy shit the finish is right here, stopslackingturnitonRIGHTNOW!

I flew through the chute EXACTLY as the clock ticked over to 30:00. Or did I make it before? I checked my watch and it said 29:59. (No fancy technology at this race, just good ol' fashioned bib #s.)

How thrilled was I? Ecstatic. I started babbling to a woman standing at a picnic table about the Shave Your 5k, and making 29:59 and blah blah blah. Finally remembering my manners, I asked, "So, how'd you do?" "Ah," she replied, "I won."

(Longtime readers will remember my penchant for inadvertently picking the winners to brag to.)

I had looked at last year's results beforehand, and noticed a lack of speedsters in my age group. There were awards given for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd, in 10-year age spans.

Could TODAY BE MY LUCKY DAY??

It was too much to hope for.

The RD read through the winners of all the age groups, finally getting to Men 50-59, then, Women 50-59, "First place goes to.. Betty... and there are no other women in this category..."

"Um, hello?!? I'm here!"

RD: "Oh, are you here? C'mon up and get a prize."

It was a bit anticlimactic.

The prizes ran the gamut from candles to cookies to popcorn to Christmas kitchen towels. I choose a giant candle.

Then I picked up NOD and her BF and dragged them to breakfast so I could brag. After which I posted my (unoffical) time on Facebook. And called everyone I knew. And wrote to Half-Fast, "29:59!!!!!"

Life was sweet!

Then they posted the official times.

94/164 Jeanne McCann F 51 Bethesda MD 30:01 (9:40 min./mile) 32/83 women F50-59 2/6

30....say what???

I could end my long tale here, and you all could get on with your lives, but I feel it's my duty to provide you with the REAL END to this story.

At the top of the results page, it fatefully says, "Send additions or corrections," and provides a helpful e-mail.

Yes. I am pathetic enough to write to an overworked, volunteer race director about a difference of TWO SECONDS. Couldn't he please make a teensy tiny correction? Wasn't it possible that the clock was wrong?

And here was the thoughtful, immediate reply:

Let me think -- what would Rod Blagojevich charge for that adjustment? Hmmm ...

It's even less than 1 second -- they clocked you at 30:00.64 -- so the program rounded your time up to 30:01 -- so near and yet so far!

BTW they clocked Betsy Agnvall at exactly 29:59.96, so the program rounded her time up to 30:00.

If you hadn't had that little headwind on the way out ...
if you hadn't dodged around that 10K runner ...
so many ways to shave off 2 seconds ...
and the Time Machine was started exactly 5:00 late -- what if it was 5:01 late, or 5:02?

On the bright side, now you know you can run sub-29:59 on a good day with just a little more training. And maybe sub-29:00!

Congratulations on your award-winning finish!

Can I just say I heart this race? And this race director??!!

(But poor Betty!!!)

I started this blog in June 2005, and I can honestly say that I have been waiting since then to WIN MY AGE GROUP! And now I have! I have also been waiting since then to magically run a sub-30 5k.

So now, apparently, I have to run another one. Sigh.

Life is good people.

I Scare Myself

It's been a weekend, people.

First, there was the Open Water Swim on Saturday, where my fright levels were at (what I thought was) an all-time-high.

After which I went to the bike store, and bought a bike that you need SPECIAL SHOES to wear.

And took it home ... then out for a few crashes. That's when my fear levels reached new highs. I've known how to ride a bike now oh, for 45 years or so? And all of a sudden, I find out that not only can I no longer ride, but that I'm actually TERRIFIED of getting on the bike.

Take the open-water-swim fear, multiply by 1,000 and that's how scared I am of my purty new bike.

And my group had a ride scheduled at 9 a.m. this morning at Hain's point, a part of D.C. popular with cyclists, runners, golfers, fishers. Which means it's busy pretty much all of the time.

I told Number One Daughter I couldn't do it. I was pretty sure I'd have to take the bike back, it was impossible, I WOULD NEVER LEARN to clip in and out. The rest of the night I spent asking myself who was I kidding with this tri-stuff. I'm such a poser. Etc.

Way to pump yourself up!

So of course you all know the ending to this story, because you've read it here oh-so- many-times before. I went this morning, practically frozen with fear, got on the damn bike, clipped in, clipped out, and JUST. DID. IT.

Fifteen miles in 1 hour. And of course, you all also know exactly what I'm going to say next: That I loved it.

Maybe some of you don't know yet that I struggle with anxiety anyway, daily, just going to work, just living. I know it's very chi-chi these days to have "social anxiety" but I've had it for years, and it's a real thing.

So when I say that I'm afraid of something, I mean the I'm-having-a-panic-attack-and-can't-breathe kind of fear.

It ain't pretty.

Yet I keep putting myself in these positions of doing things that evoke exactly that response.

Why? And why, despite all my success stories, do YOU all know before I do that I'll really be OK?

Well, I guess we'd need to drag out the psychiatrist for the answer to that, cuz I dunno. The obvious answer is I have so little faith in myself.



Number One Daughter's BF asked me the other day if I pat myself on the back for any of my accomplishments, and I said, "What accomplishments?" Like seriously, I had no idea what he was talking about.

I guess that's one reason why I need to blog about what I've done. For ME. So that I can remember how scared I was and that I did it anyway and lived to tell the tale.

Maybe one day I'll learn.

(And yes, I'm totally thrilled that I went on this ride this morning. And stayed upright.)

MailBox

I got some good stuff in the mail this week.

First, I got this:
Outside of card

Inside of card, which included three photos from last year's July 4th 5k, PLUS a pic of my bike, revealed it was from non other than D.C. Spinster!

When you have friends out there finding the Patron Saint of Bicyclists for you, you really have nothing to be afraid of! Thanks, Peter!

Next, I got this bag of WHITE POWDER in the mail:
No, not cocaine! It's protein powder! From 21st Century Mom!

Both 21st and little miss runner have been independently telling me about the virtues of protein powder for weeks now. So 21st sent me a sample, and I gotta tell you: This stuff is great. Blend it with fresh strawberries and soy milk, and you no longer want to gnaw off your arm mid-morning.

Bloggy friends rock.

The Rest of the Story

Official results:
48/53 F5054 2:36:09 2:31:57 11:36 Jeanne McCann 51 F 4800 Bethesda MD

(Yesterday I was 48th out of 68! What the hell happened to those other 15 people?!)

Ah, it's all good.

Yesterday I didn't hate running, but more importantly I never felt like giving up--a feeling which has plagued me recently on long runs.

What I did right:
Thursday and Friday, I drank a lot of water, ate right, and got enough sleep.

I did no workouts on Thursday and Friday.

Friday night I re-read this post on mental training, from Tammy's old blog which I have a printout of and read before each race. (I highly recommend it.)

Plus, I had just finished reading It's Not About the Bike (I know, late to the party, etc.) which was plenty inspirational.

And, I wore the exact right clothes for the weather. For once. (Tights, technical shirt, and my trusty Brooks vest. Oh and a Villanova crew cap.)

What I did wrong: Nothing!

Here's how it went down:

Before the race officials figured out they needed a guard there, I checked out a portapotty that was off to the side for VIPs. I can report that all was in order inside.

Around 6:30ish, I lined up at the waaaaaaaaay back, where I met my friend Nancy, who was looking good, despite having sore legs. It was cold.

We hopped from one foot to the other, trying to keep warm. Soon I was hopping for another reason. By now there were long lines at the portapotties, and the Armory was thoughtfully locked and guarded. D.C. can be fussy about things like peeing on government property, but I saw a bunch of guys off in a corner of greenery, on the D.C. Armory grounds, and I figured if it was good enough for them... Plus, they would have had to arrest all of us.

This was a well-organized race, I thought.

First a look at the official elevation map (top), and the one generated by Nancy's Garmin:
Holy hell, them's some hills!

Miles 1, 2 and 3: 34:04 Oops, I forgot to notice the mile markers. I think I forgot I was in a race.

Mile 4: 11:26 (I finally caught on.)

Mile 5: 11:33 Uneventful, running on Constitution Ave, past the Washington Monument and other famous stuff. We turned onto 18th St., NW, the start of the hills. Of course, I had to go again. I waited a few minutes in line at a portapotty, then gave up, figuring I'd hit a Starbucks.

Mile 6: 14:10 This is the biggest hill, up Connecticut Avenue through Dupont Circle. Just before the road passes under the circle, there's a Starbucks off to the last. BLESSED STARBUCKS! I ducked in, and spent four minutes waiting. So the race director should take that into consideration. Just sayin'.

This was a big hill. But I was NOT. GOING. TO. WALK. And I didn't. I just slowed down.

Mile 7: 11:56 This started the rolling hills through Adams Morgan, past D.C. Mayor Fenty's parents' running shoe store, Fleet Feet. His dad, Phil, was out to cheer us on.

There weren't tons of spectators but just enough to make it fun. Some homeless folks high-fived us as we ran past. Someone blasted the Beatles "Here Comes the Sun" from a boom box.

By now, I had really fallen behind. I was now behind the two guys running together with their heads stuck through the top of a box (I have no idea). When you're behind folks like that, you know you are at the BACK.

I fell in with a marathoner who was looking to break 5 hours and we chatted. Mostly we chatted about how annoying it was to have a 3-car procession RIGHT NEXT to us for several miles. There was the SAG wagon, followed by a police car, followed by an ambulance. Followed by lots of fumes.

Mile 8: 11:13 Near McMillan's reservoir, at the bottom of a hill. There was a high school marching band and cheerleaders, doing a great job cheering us on. A real high.

Mile 9: 11:26 My mantra in the race became "Just 11 more minutes." Cuz I can do anything for 11 minutes. I still felt strong, not flagging at all.

Mile 10: 10:52 (1:56) This was another hill. For some reason, the hills weren't bothering me. I just looked at the ground directly in front of me and figured it would be over soon.

Mile 11: 11:29 This took us through some old D.C. neighborhoods, where lots of folks cheered us on. One spectator was cleverly dressed as the Statue of Liberty holding a sign reading, "Income Tax," and pointing to a storefront tax prep center. I would have taken advantage but I was a little busy, so pressed on.

Mile 12: 11:54 Mile 12 flew by.

Mile 13.1: 11:54 I have learned not to get excited when I see the finish since it's so RARE that you get to run directly toward it. Usually you have to do some convoluted loop. But nope, this time the finish was the finish, with a short chute.

And viola (voila?), I was done.

My running group mates, K and E, were right there at the finish, handing out medals and giving out space blankets. The best seats in the house! I hugged them both, and I guess I thought I would hang out with them and, you know, chat, and tell them my long story, but they had other plans. Like, um, the marathon WINNERS were coming through so GET THE HELL OUTTA the way, jeanne!

There was tons of free food and not so many people so I don't know what came over me, I had to eat. I ate
1 pretzel
2 granola bars
1 banana
1 ice cream cup (I was still freezing)
1 freebie starbucks sample of something else cold
1 orange

All this while wandering around looking for Peter (finished 10th in his age group, in case he's too modest to say so) and Nancy. Nancy and I had passed each other on and off and I knew she had to hang around for a while. But as usual, I couldn't find anyone.

Finally I realized I was COLD. So I hopped in my car (FREE PARKING!) and was home in 45 minutes, after stopping again at Starbucks for coffee and a scone (I should seriously own stock) cuz I guess I hadn't eaten enough! I was home by 11 a.m., and did absolutely nothing the rest of the day.

I felt fine. Nothing hurt.

Today I felt so good I rode for an hour and then did my 10-min run-off afterwards.

Cuz today? Triathlon training starts in earnest!