2:06.2 and 57.5

So I've got a goal, and my times in the title at a local track meet yesterday are sufficiently close (and far) to make this realistic and challenging. I'm turning 30 next summer, and I want to shoot to beat my 17-18 year old shadow self (preferably the latter, of course). The times to beat are on the right. The 800m and mile are what I care about, since I think the 400m was in a relay. I think I might have to subtract .2 from the 800m PR though, since my HS coach said I ran 1:59.2 in an 880y race (they were just switching over to metric in high schools when I was running). So 1:58.5, here I come.

I was hoping for 2:10 yesterday, but it seems I had more in me that the recent 8x200m workouts I've been doing have indicated. Most of those were at 32-33 seconds, and they felt pretty darn hard. The race was a lot of fun, and it brought me back.

I started out easy, and took a slot at the back of a pack of high schoolers and local college guys, and sat on the shoulder of the guy in front of me, since I knew some guys would be slowing down soon. At 200m I had let a couple guys slip behind through the gap I had left by sitting on the shoulder, and on the downstretch I picked things up, and quickly got into a 3rd place position. At the bell lap, I was somewhere in the 61-62 second range, which was a surprise. It never feels as fast as it is that first lap. The guy in front of me I knew was a very fast guy just out for a fun jog, basically, but I worked on reeling him in anyway on the 3rd 200. This is the part of the race where things get interesting. I remember in high school starting to feel not so good at this point, after the first curve of the second lap, but there wasn't too much burn yet. I kept the turnover going, and was catching up, but when I hit 600m, I remembered how this race ends.

A mental panic sets in with 150m to go. You're suddenly convinced that you burned everything too soon, and you're going to basically be crawling past the finish line on your hands and knees, bleeding from the ears and with every organ failing. It's a real life dream sequence where you're being chased, but your legs won't move. You are convinced that the people behind you are strong and fast, their legs light and limber. They will pass you, feeling both triumph and pity simultaneously as they leave your mangled and twitching frame behind for the vultures.

It's not the way it usually works, unless your competing with Nick Symmonds. They're all feeling the same thing. I held on to my place, doing my best to hold form down the backstretch to the finish. I was a few seconds behind the leaders, and very jealous that they got to stop this insanity before I did. I crossed the line, got to the side, and did my best to take in the oxygen my body wanted so badly. A quick glance back at the finish as I crossed the line told me the remainder of my competition was about 10-15m away.

It was awesome.

For fun I joined the 400m race as well, which was about 20-30 minutes after the 800. I was barely recovered for it, but it only lasts a minute, so how bad could it be. I was passed very quickly by a bunch of guys after the first turn. A sprinter I am not. I had been talking during the meet with this guy named Willie Johnson, who was apparently a 45.x and 20.x guy in the 400m and 200m back in college...very very very fast. He's 48 now, and is in incredible shape. Still has the legs of a 400 guy, and the chest of a 20 year old. I hope I look anything within a hundred yards of that at that age. At the second curve, I could feel him behind me, and I caught his white singlet out of the corner of my eye with 100m to go. I held on, and apparently he burned out at that point. I crossed the line in 57.x, quite pleased. To be under 60 seconds is a good sign at this point. So I'll keep on working on my turnover, and putting in miles, and next month I'll start doing some tempo runs.

And hopefully I'll post a little more often after next week, when we'll be getting settled in our new house.