REHAU Resolution 10K Race Report

REHAU RESOLUTION 10k 2008
January 1, 2008
Leesburg, VA
Ida Lee Park/Morven Park Estate

Previous Best: 38:25/6:11 min. miles @ Veterans Day 10K 2003 (DC)
Goal: To have fun (secretly, I want to place)

The first of the year always brings new goals, and for most, they take the form of weight watching, stemming off procrastination or the occasional call to increase one's vocabulary with that ever so thoughtful "Word-A-Day" calendar you received from grandma. For the few of us who could easy be labeled workout addicts, we consider doing a 10K race with an added difficulty bonus of setting it within 8 hours of your last New Year's Eve drink---(for some that figure should read 8 minutes). With the list of DC Tri runners already signed up for the race, Mariana convinced me to sign up for the race--and for those who know me, that's not too hard. So I, in turn, convinced Kevin to the same. So with the two of us, that made a grand total around 8-10. So guess how many showed up for the race. If you guessed two, you'd be correct. That's right, Mariana didn't feel well so Andrea doesn't come, Phil wakes up to late, Laurel is still on "California Time" (whatever that means), Paul texts me at 5:30am saying he's out because he hasn't been to bed yet and Guillermo has wrecked his knee. Ergo, Kevin and I are the only ones who showed up. How is that possible?

So, for a 10:20am race, Kevin and I head out to Leesburg (passports and all--Leesburg is frickin' out there---we had to pay tolls even...ridiculous!) around 8am so I can get a feel for the course.

WARM-UP
After arriving at Ida Lee Park to pick up our race numbers, we come to find out that the race is really a 10:40am start and not the 10:20am start the website had advertised. Small and minute to some, but for me, it meant waiting around that much longer before I could properly warmup and check the course out. A few shovels of more of my oatmeal (Trader Joe's Cinnamon Spice...hmm...goodness) and a little more stretching, Kevin and I take a look at the course. Holy crap!!! This is a cross country race. We had no idea. No roads, no paved cement, no nicely If I had my spikes from high school, I would have used them. To kill even more time Kevin has taken up a second job as an "excavator"---mining cardboard boxes filled with nutritional supplements such as Clif shots and Larabars (this will play a greater part later in our story). He would disappear every few minutes only to reappear each time with a hat full (yes hat full---not hand full) of goodies, seeking the keys to the car to "export" all the new wonderful minerals he had discovered to the new world--or in this case, our house. By race time he had half a bag. Nice work! But, time to get serious.

RACE
After checking out the competition and asking around for race predictions I came to the conclusion I should be near the front. Not the very front, but right behind the lead pack. (Plus, after checking results in years past, I had an inkling that I might be able to do well.) BAM! The gun goes off and we tear down the hill. Loose grass, gravel narrow bridges and large divots litter the field. One false step and you're done for. The pace quickens as gravity becomes your best friend for some and worst enemy for others. With a quick turn into Morven Park we approach our first hill and already the leaders have opened a substantial gap. My heart rate is soaring with every effort to stay with the leaders (sidenote: I've never worn a Heart Rate Monitor for a race before so I was unsure what to expect.) and with more hills to come I have to reevaluate my game plan. With the 1 mile marker within site, I spot through the trees the leaders who have widen the lead even more now (the winner came in at 33:17). The pace is too much and my heart rate is 183--way above anerobic threshold, and with the muddy trails coming up, I don't expect it to lower. As we hit a straightaway I take an inventory of where I am. It looks like around 18 or 19th place with a couple of guys jockeying for position right at my heels. Normally after two miles into a 10K, the positions are solidified and people find themselves hard pressed to pass me---and this time proves no different. As we come to the first water stop I attempt to give myself a little respite before making an attack in the 2nd half, grab a little water (and by little, I mean a few drops after most of it spilled on the kid handing me the cup--sorry kid). With my heart rate floating around 183/184, I realize that any chance to lower it has become null and void due to all the hills. So with a my abs already in pain and a significant lack of oxygen I attempt to pick off my competitors one by one. Or more accurately, one by....................one.............by........................one. Heading into the 2nd half of the race, I can feel the pack slow up, either I've made the right adjustments or they have succumbed the grueling pace. Probably a combination of the two. And with more hills in the 2nd half of the race, I have a feeling I can make a dent in the leaders. HR still around 183, we turn the corner after mile 4 only to hit a massive hill and we're all working overtime. I pass my first runner and I'm probably around 17th place with a new found source of energy. Hills being my strong suit, I know I can catch some of these guys, but will the wind play a factor? Time will only tell.

As we reach mile 5 I've passed two more runners with three hills left including the finish line---and with my knowledge of the course, I begin to make my move. I can't imagine what my HR is now, but I don't have the time or energy to even take a peek. As I lengthen my stride the next runner falls without putting up a fight (one of the 16 yr. old kids at the beginning who went out too hard) and now the only guy in my sights is a man in red with a 200yd. lead. Out of Morven Park we come and his lead has dwindled to 150yd. and as we head back into Ida Lee Park he makes a move that is sure to cause me panic. As we make the turn, Mr. Red glances over his left shoulder and sees his downfall on the horizon. I'm done for. I attempt to stay hidden, but it's over. Mr. Red feels the threat and turns on the juice. It's on. We both pick up the pace and it's on. My only hope is I started my move earlier enough. As we headed back of the minefilled grassy knoll from the start of the race my HR is skyrocketing as I pump my arms with all my might. The hill is no doubt a challenge, but how much I don't know. As the finish line approaches it's clear, Mr. Red has too much of a lead on me on my coop has failed. A 200yd. lead dwindled to a few yards, but it's over. I fall to Mr. Red. And crossing the finish line seven seconds behind him, I only pray he's not in my age group. It was a lofty goal, but probable had I started to make my move a few seconds earlier. Live and learn. With failure now imminent, I continue my surge to the finish line, hearing my name called out to the cheering crowd and am greeted with an ample dosage of dry heaving well deserved. It's not a PR, but an honest showing---a 12th place 39:05.

POST RACE
After a few minutes of making a strong attempt to keep my breakfast in me, my dry heaving subsides and my cool down begins. The amount of lactic acid in my lungs is evident as I cough with each deep breath. After retrieving my jacket from the car to keep warm, I grab some more clif shots and head back to see Kevin cross the finish line. It's been over a month now that Kevin has been working out with the DC Tri Club, making morning swim workouts at Eastern Market pool, heading out for runs on his own and even joining Gold's Gym to ensure he can compete in USAT's National Challenge Competition and I have to say, he's been doing great. Significant weight loss and improved strength are clearly obvious, and his devotion to making 2008 his triathlon debut have been clear to all---but how will he do at this race? His previous best and only 10K race was the Lawyers Have Heart (2005) 10k race in Georgetown with a 58:23 9:29 mile/pace (60:23 gun time) on a hot July day. But with the course as punishing as it is, plus a great deal of wind, it's unclear where he'll place. As I stagger back to the finish line the toll the race has been exacting on everyone becomes apparent. Most competitors have enough juice left in them to make one last ditch effort to overcome that unknown runner in front of them, but not today. Most have been weakened beyond a final "kick" and for those who might be capable physically, they have succumbed to the final hill mentally. At the Lawyers Have Heart 10K race in 2005, I too ran the race. Being mostly an out and back course, it was easy to assess the field and keep your eye on other runners at the turn around. More importantly, when I headed back in Kevin was able to clearly see me up in the front pack as we passed each other. This time there would be no friendly wave, no "Go, Kip!", no brotherly check-up on how the other was doing. We were both blind out there, unfamiliar as to how the other was progressing. I had pushed it too hard at the beginning, the exact thing I told him not to do---but would he listen. There always comes a point in a race where you want to give up, hold back a little, take a breather---that's the challenge, that's the race in a nutshell. Overcome that moment of pain and you win. Don't, and no matter how you place, you sort of lose. I know I had that feeling and almost gave up---but I didn't, I was just hoping Kevin did the same.

45:00, 46:00, 47:00...no sign of Kevin. 48:00, 49:00, 50:00...nothing. And then in the distance I can see...Michael Chiklis in the distance??? (For those who don't know, Kevin looks like Michael Chiklis) No, it's Kevin off in the distance making his way toward the creek and through the mine field grass. "Come on!!! Let's go!," I shout. He can hear me---he knows I'm watching. I drop my banana and shots blocks and run down the hill shouting at him. "Let's go! Pump those arms! Catch him!" And inevitably he does what I say. His stride lengthens, his arms and legs are moving like pistons and he's determined to pass everyone in front of him. Unfortunately, as life goes, everything isn't a fairytale. Inevitably, whatever I say or yell at him, can be heard by all. The Catch 22 of cheering someone on. That gentleman way ahead of him now knows he's being gunned down. "Noooooo!!!!! You weren't suppose to hear me...only Kevin was." And it was on. A mad dash between 36 year-old James Harden and 27 year-old Kevin Pierson. Up the last hill and across the finish line. Mr. Harden had beat an all out sprint by Mr. Pierson, by two seconds.

Kevin crossed the finish line and as he simultaneously gasped for air and dry heaved and realization had begun and he began to cry. When I tell people this story most ask why? Why? Why? He pushed himself to his limit. He set a PR by almost 8 minutes and posted a respectable time. He challenged himself to become better. And because crossing that finish line was a confirmation that all of his efforts in the past two months had succeeded. He's lost 21 pounds. Been more focused than I've ever seen him and most importantly he put himself on the line for all to see. Win or Lose, he took a risk to toe the line and compete. It's an emotional feeling to push yourself to the point of exhaustion. There are no walls. Only you, your will, your doubts, your fears and the ground beneath you. It's a question of who will show up that day and who will win. And for now, his "will" hasn't missed an appointment yet.

As I said before, it wasn't a fairytale story ending. But a fairytale story beginning? Absolutely.

Kevin Pierson
Clock Time: 51:08
Chip Time:50:43
8:10 mile/pace
94th overall
3rd in age division

Kip Pierson
Clock Time: 39:08
Chip Time: 39:05
6:18 mile/pace
12th overall
1st in age division

AWARDS
On a quick note, they were awarding only the top two in each age division unlike most races who usually award the top three. So unfortunately Kevin wouldn't be rewarded---or so we thought. When we finally got to the Male 30-34 age group awards, my name was read aloud and applause filled the gymnasium as I collected my lovely leather portfolio with built in paper pad and calculator? WHAT!!! This is absurd. Who the hell uses this crap. I'll tell you who....NOT ME!!! They were giving away raffle prizes for free oil changes and $75 gift certificates to jewelry stores---that's a prize. I didn't get a prize, I got crap. So we decided to make up our own prizes. Remember Kevin's side job of excavating? Well, it just so happened that there was a lot of work to be done after the race. The beauty of a small race is most of the food afterwards is just left there for someone to take home. (ENTER Kip & Kevin) One woman kept handing us clif shots, another told us to just as many as we would like and an old gentleman in a lawn chair said, "Sure, go ahead." OK then, we will. And so we did. To make a long story short. Kevin and I both ended up with 4 1/2 boxes of Black Cherry flavored clif shots and a large amount of Larabars. I'm not talking about the boxes at the bike shop, I'm talking about the cardboard boxes they are shipped in. All in all we each ended up with over $350 in nutritional supplements. Now that's what I call a first place award.