At least my kidneys are healthy

Let me start off with one thing:

10k races are hard. You can't race them all out like a 5k because you'll fall apart, but you can't dawdle either because it's not that long of a haul. They take discipline, strategy and a willingness to stick out the speed for several very tough miles.

And now this:

10k races in Central Park are really, really freakin' hard.

I had been looking forward to this morning's Healthy Kidney 10k for quite some time. It comes at the perfect time of year training- and weather-wise, and I love the idea of sharing the road with some world-class runners. The morning dawned a cloudy 55 degrees, perfect running weather. I warmed up for a mile down to the start, checked my bag, stretched, and lined up near the front with some fellow Reservoir Dogs; it was business as usual as I tried to calm my pre-race nerves.

But when the gun went off today, my heart just wasn't in it. Starting at the 6-min/mi marker still meant it took me a good 3 minutes to clear the crowds; and considering that I still managed to clock a 7:01 first mile, I probably overcompensated. The next two miles were a solid 6:52/6:54, on the low end of my target range but ok since I knew the longer, sneaky hills later in the course would slow me down anyway. But I was working and breathing a little too hard, and my upper body and arms were tense no matter how often I tried to shake it out. By the time I hit mile 4 and heard the cheers of my teammates (who are awesome!) I was really, really hating the distance and wishing the race were over already.

I took some water, walking for a bit as I drank in an effort to relax and regulate my breathing. I started up again, and was extra glad the direction of the race took us down Cat Hill and not up; but I hardly felt the relief and it was all I could do to ignore the voice in my head that was begging me to drop the effort down to tempo. With just 800m to go I thought I felt the onset of the dreaded side stitches (which only seem to crop up in 10k's), but with a couple of sharp intakes of air and by pushing into my side with my hand, I was able to stave them off. My teammate ALK caught up to me just 200m before the finish, on her way to a PR, and offered some encouragement. I wanted to stick with her, but I had nothing left for the final kick and finally crossed the finish line with a net time of 44:09, or 7:07 pace overall. I was wiped out, and not a little disappointed and frustrated. (Though the delicious plums they were handing out did make me feel a little better.)

Of course, considering how crappy I felt it's actually not so bad to have come in just 3 sec/mi over my PR, set at this same race last year. So my disappointment at not breaking it, and also at not breaking 7s (which is the bigger goal) is moderated somewhat by the thought that I could probably still do it on another day. And to be totally realistic, I need to up my weekly mileage too; 6.2 miles at a sub-7 pace is a long way to go on just 20-25 miles a week. (If only I could get my butt out of bed in the mornings!)

Ultimately -- I've said it before and I'll say it again -- learning to run a smart and fast 10k is a prime example of the long learning curve of this sport. In the meantime, the Blue Moon and bagels I had at the post-race brunch certainly helped, and the nap I'm about to take will be even better. :-)