What the hell happened? A novel-length report on a 5K PR (Read 376 times)

I'll apologize in advance for the length of this post, but I'm trying to figure out how this happened (so I can bottle it for future use). I run/walk about five miles on Thursdays, a long run/walk for marathon training on Sundays, and a 5K race series on Tuesdays. THE WEEK BEFORE My Tuesday 5K was a bit of a struggle. It was hot and humid, and my long run two days earlier was 18 miles. I was pleasantly surprised when I crossed the line though, 21:43 was only ten or fifteen seconds over my usual time and 27 seconds over my PR of 21:16. I was on vacation, and a daytrip to Six Flags meant that my Thursday night run was delayed until Friday morning. I was ready to run at 7am, but it was raining so I delayed the start. The weather.com site said that there would be breaks during the morning, to be followed by steady rain after noon. I waited for a dry spell until 10am, then pulled on a baseball hat and headed out into the rain. It was a light rain, and the temperature was considerably lower than it had been recently. I didn't make a conscious effort to run faster than usual, but at my first walk break I had covered more ground than usual. At my second walk break, it seemed that I had once again covered more ground than my usual six minute run segment. I decided to push a little bit, as completion of the next segment would approximate 5K distance. At the end of the third run segment, I had covered more ground than I had in a long time. I continued at an elevated pace and made it to the 4.4 mile mark in 31:48 for a 7:14 pace. It was a very satisfying run. It was a 50% off week, so my Sunday long run was set for 10 miles. I had twelve hours less rest than usual due to the Thursday -> Friday delay. I was definitely feeling the result of the push on Thursday's run, because I was dragging. Thankfully I finally caught a second wind at about 8 miles, and finished the last two miles in pretty good form and felt OK. THE RACE My legs felt a little tight as I arrived on a beautiful Tuesday night. A series friend always asks "how are you going to do tonight?", and I gave my standard honest answer of "I have no idea". I've been wrong many times (feel great but run lousy, feel lousy but run great), and I've found I really don't know until a mile or more into the race. Because his runs are so ridonkulously consistent, I use the series-leading Kenyan as the pace bunny for the first minutes of the race. At a certain point on the course I'm normally able to see the back of Ben's head off in the distance, disappearing around a corner. I thought I was off the pace because he had already completed his disappearing act, so I decided it was time to boost my effort. I had covered more of the course than usual when I slowed for my first walk break. I was shocked when I walked past the first mile marker at 6:00, and I took a look around to make sure it was in the proper location. The cone was in the right location, and realizing I was about 45 seconds ahead of my usual pace my first thought was "oh sh*t, I'm really going to pay for this". I felt great, but knew I had to reduce my pace. I ran my normal second mile pace of 7:00, maintaining my 45 second cushion by walking past the second mile marker at 13:00. The walk break gives me a chance to evaluate and adjust, and I anticipated my too-fast start would have me adjusting down again to avoid falling apart. Instead of adjusting down to ensure I would finish, for the first time I found myself PLANNING to get a PR. This was something new, and I liked it. I liked it a LOT. I just had to cover the last 1.1 in 8:00. It seemed to take forever to cover that last run segment. I knew I was tiring, and slowing down as a result. I checked my watch about a million times. I was thinking way too much, and decided to banish the inner voices with a mantra I've used for tough long run stretches. "Steady and strong, steady and strong, steady and strong........" Is there any sight more beautiful to behold than a finish line clock? As the digits came into focus, I saw that the second number was a zero. I had no kick left in me, so it was a relief to see that I wouldn’t need one. I crossed the line at 20:55, shaving 21 seconds off my previous best. So what the hell did happen? As usual, I'm left with more questions than answers. Was it the extra effort on the Thursday run? The difficult run on Sunday because of the Thursday effort? The affect of increased mileage? I have to consider the weather, because 38% of the field got a PR that night under near-perfect conditions. Was it just my Kenyan pace bunny running a PR of 15:10 (!), explaining why he was out of sight and I wound up covering the first mile in 6:00? The coffee I had before the race? All (or none) of the above? I dunno. This is the second time that I have shaved 15 seconds off a PR after struggling for week after week and coming as close as a tenth of a second. I know I loved the race and the beers at Hookslide Kelly's after. I loved that I saw the opportunity and planned a PR, all my others have just "happened". It's my sixth goofy rubber PR medal (suitable for wearing or removing stubborn jar lids), but this is by far my favorite. There may be many questions as to how or why I got it, but there is no question that I want another one. What a wonderful addiction this is.