I woke up at about 4:00 this morning with excruciating pain in my elbow. I had injured it while gardening a weeks back, and then we got a Nintendo Wii last night, so I guess the Wii tennis was too much for it. I got out of bed around 4:30 and did some research. It pretty much fits the classic symptoms of Tennis Elbow. I iced it, had some breakfast and headed out the door. I had a 45 minute drive to the race,so I wanted to leave early.

When I got to the University of South Florida campus, the crowd was light and I was able to grab my goodie bag and timing chip pretty quickly. So, I went back to the car and dumped some of the goodie bag stuff, attached my number and chip, then took a walk to check out the course. I took a few practice jobs, and my elbow was killing me. It’s amazing how painful and elbow can be while running. I was distressed about that, but I still had a lot of time to kill, so I headed back to the car.

Meanwhile, the registration line had built up quite a bit. Last year, the race had about 1500 participants and this year, about 3000 people have shown up. They delayed the start so they could get everyone registered. Back at the car, I dug through my goodie bag and found a sample tube of Icy Hot. I massaged that into my elbow and it began to feel a little better. I lined up at the start with many other people. It was crowded and I was pretty far back from the line.

Standing in the starting corral, I squeeze as close to the front as I can, but I don’t get too far. In the tight quarters, I’m conscious of the Icy Hot odor I’m giving off and I hope I’m not bothering anyone. There are several introductions and then they sing the national anthem. The tell us to go on the air horn, but when it blows, we don’t move. Slowly, the crowd walks forward and we cross the start, roughly 20 seconds after the air horn. Some people who have run the event in the past are not used to the many elite runners who have signed up, so there are walkers near the front. The just stand still and let everyone run by. This makes things a little chaotic for awhile, but I settle into a decent pace, running up the side of the road.

There’s quite a gutter on the side of the road and I’m straddling it as I run by the initial crowd of walkers/joggers. A kid in front of me lands poorly on the edge of the gutter and completely wipes out. He limps off into the grass - a casualty of the first tenth of a mile. As I watch him with sympathy, my foot lands on the edge of the gutter and my ankle rolls, hitting the pavement. It bounces back up and I barely lose my stride. I thank my ankles for being so flexible, but not wanting to tempt fate, I drift toward the middle of the road.

I’m still in a decent crowd and it feels like I’m moving very slowly. I glance down at the Garmin to see I’ve traveled a quarter mile, my average pace is 7:15/mile, and I can’t feel my elbow anymore. Perfect. I settle into the pace and round the first corner. I can see the lead group running back toward me. There is a distinct tightly clustered pack of about 10 runners leading the way followed by a 25 yard gap and then a strung out mob of people giving chase. I break free of the crowd and I’m now in a pretty drawn out line of people with plenty of room to run. The course is flat so far, so I just maintain my pace and focus on picking the shortest line through the upcoming curves.

I approach the first water stop and drift away from the water table, taking advantage of an opening in the crowd. I pass the 1 mile mark in 7:15 and the course begins to slope slightly downward. I approach a 90 degree turn and I’m cut off by a massive body builder guy running with his shirt off, his muscles bulging. I have to slow to keep from running into him and I let him thunder down the incline ahead of me. I maintain control, lengthen my stride slightly and use the incline to rest. I can see the bottom where the course levels out for about 10 yards and then goes right into an uphill swing. The body builder is 30 yards ahead of me now, flying down the “hill” like a man out of control. He hits the bottom, cruises across the flat and then powers his way up the incline.

I hit the bottom of the hill, pull back slightly as the course flattens out, then hit the hill. I maintain my rhythm, shorten my stride and stare at the pavement. Up ahead, the body builder has slowed significantly. My shortened stride relentlessly attacks the hill, my breathing in time with mysteps: In,In ,Out,Out. In,In,Out,Out. Soon, I reach the body builder and quickly leave him behind. I reach the top of the incline and see that the course slopes back downward. I’m 1.25 miles into the race. I tell myself to run a series of fartleks to the finish. Everyone is spread out now, and each runner in front of me is now a short distance goal.

The first victim is fit looking young woman. She’s maintaining a pretty good pace. I step up my pace until I catch her, then pull back and run alongside her to recover. The next target is a 60 something guy with the poorest running form I’m ever seen. After a few more seconds, I up the pace, leave the woman behind and close the gap to the man. Despite his odd form, he scoots along at a pretty good clip and the catch takes longer than I anticipate. I do eventually catch him, and stay with him for a second or two. Up ahead, the course curves again, and I take off for the curve. I pass a guy walking with his hands above his head. That was me 4 weeks ago. I’m feeling so much better today.

Heading uphill again, I pass a few more people and the hit the 2 mile mark. My Garmin reads 14:30. Another perfect 7:15 mile. I’ll need to speed up a little over the remainder of the race if I’m going to beat my PR.

Things are pretty strung out now. Runners are basically single file with about 5-10 feet separating each. I reel in and pass a British guy in colorful Union Jack shorts, then pull up just behind another young woman. We’re on an incline now and I’m starting to feel a little winded, so I run with her for a while. We round what I think is the last corner before heading back to the start, and I pass her. Unfortunately, I’ve misjudged the finish and we round another corner. I’m a bit demoralized and my place slows slightly. She passes me again along with a tall guy who looks to be ready for a strong finish.

We’re paying for the mostly downhill 2nd mile now as we head back up to the finish. The two who have just passed me are only about 5 feet ahead of me and I try to maintain that gap over the next quarter mile. Finally, we crest the hill and the balloon arch of the starting line is visible. I quicken my pace and pass them both, closing quickly on a group of three more runners ahead.

We run under the starting arch, and then take a hard left. I take an outside line on this turn and pass the group of three, accelerating through the turn. Still accelerating, I make a hard right a see the finish line ahead. I push little harder and cross the finish line in 22:42 - 20 seconds slower than my PR. Good enough for 97th out of around 3000. I was 14th out of 55 in my age group. The body builder guy crossed the finish 10 minutes later.

Overall, it was a pretty good run. Of all the 5K races I’ve run, my pace from mile to mile was most consistent in this one. I hit the 1 and 2 mile marks almost exactly at my goal pace, but I failed to speed up in the last mile and actually lost a little time. The Florida running season is basically over now, so it’s a bit disappointing that I didn’t PR. I’ll have to try again in the fall.

I’ll be working on speedy short distances in the beginning of the summer mostly because I’ve got a lot of weekend road trips planned in May and June so the long slow runs will be more difficult to achieve. I’ll add more distance in July. My next planned race is the Walt Disney World Race for the Taste 10K in October, but it’d be nice to fit a 5K in before that.

I spent most of last night relaxing. I think I realized that I was really freakin’ nervous about the race. I’ve been putting a lot of pressure on myself with this whole “break 20 minutes” thing and it’s really not necessary. Sure, the goals keep me motivated, but it’s not like the world depends on it, or there’s olympic gold on the line or anything like that.

Anyway, I found a good book and lost myself in it pretty much all night. I got to bed and fell asleep right away. I slept pretty well, occasionally waking up and tossing, but nothing too bad. I woke up a little before 6:30, had a clif bar and some orange juice, then headed out the door. I had to park pretty far away because there was a parade after the race and I didn’t want to be stuck there. I went and picked up my race packet, then walked back to the car to get rid of all but my car key and my driver’s license (I don’t have a road ID, so I always run with my drivers license in case I croak).

I still had plenty of time, so I jogged lightly for about a half mile to get the kinks out. I felt ready, but somewhat detached from everything around me. There was a 1 mile fun run just before the 5K so I timed that just for fun. Now I’m going to switch to present tense for dramatic effect…

Everyone is milling about the starting line which is not exactly where I expect it to be. I kind of duck into the crowd somewhere near the front and try to work my way into an open space where I feel comfortable. As I’m wandering around in the middle of the crowd, my back to the starting line, I hear an air horn and someone yelling “go! go! go!”. Having run the Disney marathon in January, where the start is counted down from 2 hours before the gun and the last 15 seconds are counted down with fireworks, I’m a little disconcerted at the lack of notice here. I get my bearings, somehow remember to hit “start” on my Garmin and I’m off. My previous PR was accomplished by going out unexpectedly fast and then holding on at the end. As such, my plan today is to stick with the lead pack to the 2 mile mark, then coast home on my own. Unfortunately, the lead pack has taken off while my back was to the starting line so the plan is not getting off to a great start.

I decide to try to catch the lead pack and stick with the original plan since now doesn’t seem like the time to come up with a new one. I surge forward, averaging sub four minute mile pace over the first tenth of a mile. At about a quarter mile, I’ve caught the lead pack and settle down into my planned 6:30/mile pace. Suddenly, I start to feel very nervous. I’ve never felt nervous once a race actually started, but here I am running at 6:30 pace with butterflies in my stomach. I’m straining a little, but things aren’t bad and I’m hanging on to the back of the lead pack.

As we approach the 1 mile mark, I shake off the nerves and glance at my Garmin. According to the Garmin, I completed the 1st mile in 6:02, but the actual marker is still a fair distance ahead of me. I cross the race marker as a man with a watch yells out my split of 6:35, but my Garmin reads 1.1 miles. No longer nervous, I’m now confused and starting to feel the effects of running at the back of the now strung out lead pack for a mile. I hang on for a little more before slipping into my 8:00 minute mile recovery pace briefly.

I slowly pick up the pace again, rounding a corner and passing the finish line. A few people have passed me, but now I’m maintaining about a 7:00/mile pace and keeping up with the runner in front of me. I’m starting to feel a stitch on my right side though, so I slow slightly and focus on breathing deeply. The stitch doesn’t get any worse for a while, but it’s not really getting better either. I slow more, but this has the opposite effect from what I’m looking for and the stitch flares up. I walk, raise my arms in the air and breath deeply. After about 30 seconds, it’s mostly gone and I begin picking up the pace again.

Shortly before the 2 mile mark, we make a right turn and hit what passes for a hill in St. Petersburg, Florida. It’s about a 25 foot elevation increase over the course of 4 city blocks. I pass the 2 mile mark in 15 minutes, but the stitch is back and I slow to walk again. This time, I walk up the whole hill. So many people pass me at this point, it’s not even funny. First, the lady pushing the stroller up the hill, then the 9 year old kid, then the 70 year old man. At the top of the hill, the course makes a hairpin turn and continues downhill. I start running again. No one will pass me again. I immediately pass the 70 year old guy. Then, I pass the kid, but I don’t know where the lady with the stroller has gone. I think she got in the stroller and rode it down the hill. Most people are stumbling down the hill, but my legs actually feel pretty fresh from the walking I’ve just done, so I cruise down the hill at a pretty fast pace, passing a lot of the people who passed me on the way up.

I reach the bottom of the hill wondering if the stitch will return once the elevation evens out, but it does not. With a straight line to the finish, I’m averaging about 7 minutes per mile, but the walk breaks have killed any chance of beating my old PR of 22:30 and 20 minutes have already passed, so that’s not going to happen without a time machine. I’m comfortable and moving steadily past people on my way to the finish. At the 3 mile mark, I pass another guy just as he’s passing his buddy in the crowd. As I pass the guy, his buddy yells “Come on man, kick it!”. I hear him pick it up, so I pick it up.

Before I know it, I’m in an all out sprint for the finish. This guy is on my right shoulder yelling “Come on! Come on!” Every time he cranks it up a notch, I’ve got another notch to hold him off. I thunder across the finish line just before him (My Garmin recorded my pace at 3:00 min/mile when I crossed the finish). The guys at the finish are yelling for our chips as we look like we might race straight through the shoot and out the other side. I put on the breaks and turn to give him a high five. His adrenaline obviously still pumping, he nearly takes my hand off. We both have a laugh and then let the chip removers do their work…

So, I won the mad dash for 54th place (out of about 300). My finishing time was 24:22 - a little less than 2 minutes slower than my current PR. I was 3rd out of 12 in my division. I do think the course was measured incorrectly. My finish distance according the Garmin was 3.23. I picked up 0.1 of that in the first mile. The 0.03 can be expected from weaving around people, but 0.1 in 1 mile is a lot…especially considering I added only 0.7 miles weaving over the course of 26.2 miles in the WDW marathon. Anyway, even if the course was the right length, I still wouldn’t have beaten my PR. I think I bit off more than I could chew. I was focused too much on the 20 minute mark. I think if I had gone out trying to average 7:00 min/mile, I would have pulled that off and beat my PR. There’s another 5K in four weeks. Perhaps I’ll try that strategy there.