December Racing in Review
I started writing this blog in a state of bleary fatigue while travelling back to Raleigh the day after competing at USATF Club Cross Country National Champs, in between silly car games with my teammates, a couple of mediocre naps, and Strava stalking people from the race just to laugh at the hilarious and very typical splits that are so unique to cross country races. I absolutely LOVE to see the 30-45 second positive splits between the first and second miles. That is racing with serious guts, people. It’s a silly way to run a race and it’s also a tactic uniquely successful in cross country racing, where establishing good position early in the race is critical. Looking at those crazy ass splits is what inspired me to put some thoughts down about the whole experience, which for me was inextricably tied to a race the week prior.
I love a good race reflection. And this blog has two of ‘em.
The first: USATF Half Marathon Champs, December 5, 2021
This half marathon was my goal race for the fall racing season. I e-mailed the race director in early fall, knowing full well I hadn’t yet made a qualifying mark in the half marathon for this race but full of self-belief that I could, and that this race would be the place to do it. A short time later, I was elated reading the response that I would be able to compete in a race with some of the country’s best distance runners and some talented sub-elites who could push me towards a half-marathon PR in pursuit of their own personal bests.
I didn’t finish the race.
About two miles in, my stomach was feeling very off. This isn’t something I usually experience early in a race or hard training session. Occasionally I experience it in the last mile or so of a longer race, and in those instances I cross the line and immediately start dry heaving and on occasion, tossing the (by then very sugary) contents of my stomach. But this was not the end of the race, this was mile 2.
I panicked a little, told my training partner Tavyn who was also in the race, and she said “just breathe, it will work itself out.”
I relaxed and resolved to spend the first loop of the 3-loop course in search of an opportunity to boot and rally, whatever that meant for the day. Unfortunately, there was nothing on the course, the stomach distress was worsening, and it felt insurmountable to finish the next loop let alone another 8 miles of the race. So became my first DNF.
The second: USATF Club Cross Country National Champs, December 13, 2021
As soon as I tearfully met up with Coach Stephen on the course that I was no longer running on at the half champs, the goal mutually turned to the USATF Club Cross Country National Championship the next weekend. Being able to quickly pivot to the next race on the calendar was invaluable in processing my first time dropping from a race.
I spent the whole day floating between feeling deflated by the race (or I guess, 5.5 mile tempo effort), and gratitude that in just five short days I would have another chance to cross a finish line. More so, I was grateful that the finish line would punctuate a style of racing that has an impressive success rate of leaving me feeling like there’s not one single drop left in the tank. Cross country hurts. Cross country demands everything you’ve got.
The race itself was a quintessential cross-country experience. My plan was to go out with my teammate, Lauren, somewhere in the 5:30s and from there, race. From there, compete. We went out blazing to secure a spot at which there would likely be little deviation in our overall place in the race once the pace settled in, so long as we could maintain said pace. I stepped off the gas just a bit sooner than Lauren did, but felt confident knowing that she was just a pack ahead.
I kept my eyes peeled for the bopping of Lauren’s blonde head for the next 3 miles. I was hurting, but I kept my eyes forward, found Lauren’s bobbing Blonde head in the crowd of runners ahead, and continued inching my way up. That’s part of what makes cross-country racing a sure fire way to leave a race knowing there wasn’t an ounce left to give. There are race tactics involved, and while these tactics rely on the strengths of individuals, they are always devised with the team score in mind. This year, per my coach, that meant my personal tactic was getting out quick with Lauren and seeing how far we could go together. Seeing her out there played a huge role in me being able to move up in position through the entirety of the race.
Before I knew it, I had crested the final hill on the second lap of the course. Thankfully a spectator yelled at another runner “only 400 meters to go!” I had been reserving a last gear to finish the race and because I hadn’t been checking my watch I didn’t realize how close I was to the finish line. The runners ahead were just out of reach to catch in such a short distance, but I had no idea how close the nearest runner behind me was so I moved into finishing gear to (1) get the hurt over with and (2) not get passed in the home stretch.
I crossed the line, doubled over. After my DNF at half champs, I wanted to feel the satisfying sensation of crossing a finish line feeling entirely spent. Cross-country delivered.
Here are my main takeaways from the team cross country race, which also serve as a nicely tied up reflection for this year as a whole:
No one race will satisfy the efforts of a training season. Racing is an iterative process. After months and years of tireless work, you hope that a single race effort will bring closure. But it never will; racing is a craft and each experience sheds light on your strengths as a runner and exposes your weakness. There’s always something that could have gone better and that’s what keep so many of us coming back to the hurt of racing.
Racing is a sure-fire way of reinvigorating my love for training. Full stop.
Our team is solid. The race result from cross country champs doesn’t capture the full depth of our team due to injuries, pregnancies, and return from pregnancies, and we still have a rock solid effort to show. It gets me super amped to see what our crew is capable of when we are at full strength.
~ Caity