Hey, I'm planning a significant taper for Stone Mill; you're suggesting it won't benefit me so much.

It won't benefit your speed much.   It may help your legs get through it.

I generally think of a taper for like the 5K and 10K distances as resting your legs so you have better speed in the race.  Since you don't need as much speed in the longer races, tapering probably doesn't help your speed.

I guess I think there are multiple reasons to taper.  In short races like a 5K or 10K I think people taper to improve their speed (in other words they are probably tapering their fast twitch muscle).  In longer races you fast twitch muscles are not tested quite as much, but your slow twitch muscles are so you may taper to rest them.

I have never thought of it before, but using that strategy...

1.  You should be able to taper effective for a short race by running your normal mileage but just avoiding hard speed work in the 3 or 4 days before the race so you don't work the fast twitch muscles you'll need for speed in the race too hard.

2.  For a long race, you can do a speed workout the week of the race, but may want to reduce your overall mileage a little bit.

If that's a question, the answer is now well known.

I guess we're left to conclude that changing timezones is very draining to a watch battery.

Congratulations on a solid run. Enjoy walking down those stairs!

hopefully you can run by Thursday.  That is only three days away.

Some irony:  on Friday I related how, after my alarm clock failed to go off at 6 a.m. that day, I looked up at the clock and was bewildered to see the date listed as Sat. Nov. 17 --- prompting me to spend a moment actually wondering if I'd somehow slept for almost 30 hours and now needed to start frantically rushing in order to make it to the race on time. But of course it was all just a mix up stemming from me having screwed up the date when adjusting the time for Daylight Savings, and it really was Friday the 16th. Well when I did get up when it truly was Saturday, I hadn't had 30 hours of slumber; rather, I'd had none. Maybe one, all told, but from 11 p.m. onward I could only succeed at briefly dozing (microsleeping?) before finding myself wide awake again. Initially it was just frustrating. Then after 2 a.m. it started making me panic a bit over how detrimental the insomnia would be to the race. But by 4 a.m. I'd gone a bit mad, finding myself giddily complacent about it all (the alarm started going off at 5:36 a.m.).

The only time I ever had a worse night's sleep --- or total lack thereof --- before a race was in the hours leading up to the Cockeyesville Komen Race for the Cure 5k 2007 (October). That time I seriously did not sleep for a second (and had a severe cold, too), as there was no way to get comfortable on Rick's small couch. But sure enough I made it to the start line with Rick, Joe, Val, Alden, and thousands of others and, whilst dressed skimpily in the crisp cold air as my nose remained a snot faucet, I ran my best 5k (19:05) since high school. Yet what greatly assuaged the restless situation this time was that I'd maintained responsibly early bed times all through the week, and only on Wednesday did I go for an early morning run. If I'd stayed up recklessly late any night from Tuesday onward, my turkey would've been cooked come Saturday race morn.

I'll admit that I lost some sleep on Friday night over the thought of having to confront two frankly formidable 5k fast fiends:  David Strickland and Trent Herzog. They'd gone 16:40 and 16:41 at the big SMAC Championship, and I was certain that the old HSMC Thanksgiving 5k would be the battleground for their bitter rematch --- likely leaving me to observe their duel from a far distance back. Yes, I'd essentially already conceded the top 2 overall spots to them before race day had even dawned. Instead my focus would have to be on claiming the M20-29 gold turkey medal one last time before I turn 30. That award at this event had represented my longest age group winning streak ever, as I'd held that prize exclusively from 2006 to 2011 (and no guy in his 20s ever won the race overall during that stretch, so I truly can claim total 20-29 dominance over the previous 6 years ... and in fact only twice did I have to work for it:  in 2006 against the Son of Walser, and a 2010 struggle that Joe recalls all too well). And as far as time goes? Following my devastating deterioration at Step By Step, I was just desperate to best my 2011 Thanksgiving 5k time, which happened to be 17:06 (when the Forerunner only registered 3.06 miles, admittedly). Or, more fundamentally, my determination was, "Try not to suck."

But confound it, the moment I turned back onto Hogaboom toward the end of my warm up, I knew that the historically harsh (hace frio!) headwind had other designs for how my race would unfold (at least the concluding stretch). It was the kind of belligerent breeze that can almost beat you backward when a gust picks up. And it was aimed directly against those traveling north on Hogaboom (i.e., the final 3rd of a mile of the race). Anyway, while wrapping up my warm up around the parking lot, I made a point to dart and dabble amidst the now swelling crowds, scanning and scanning to locate the two aforementioned high school XC stars. No sign of them anywhere. I dared not allow myself to get too excited over the prospect of a wide open race, for surely Hidden Herzog and Stealthy Strickland would reveal themselves at any moment. Then even as folks started massing over to the start line and DS and TH still remained MIA, I STILL refused to accept that they weren't about to spring out from behind some bushes and come charging over to stake their spots on the front line. It was only after everyone had lined up and the race was mere moments away from commencing that I finally concluded that they weren't going to show up after all. So who would I be racing?

Few were eager to toe the line. I positioned myself at the utter left edge (strategic since the course begins with a curve to the left); standing directly to my right was a young guy who was cheerful yet reminiscent of a certain sniveling character on Game of Thrones, leading me to silently dub him Prince Joffrey (funnily enough, his name turned out to be Jeremy); next to him was Greg Imhof, who always ends up being more competitive than I'd expect; by him was the boldest female, young Catherine Raley (no relation); next to her was the venerable Dave Walser, he of the 60 + 2012 races and innumerable age group honors; by him, Blaine; and next to him, opposite of me at the utter right edge of the line, was an unknown who caused me to fret. I couldn't place him from any previous race, though he didn't look entirely unfamiliar. He was clad entirely in a yellow shirt, and in summer style as though the blustery cold was nothing to him. The main thing, though, was that he'd performed a parade of fancy strides and drills immediately before the race. He seemed like a legit competitor.

I used slight restraint whilst curving out of the parking lot, but then bid myself CHARGE the moment I took up the long straight of Hogaboom, succinctly seizing the lead. And then I tried to keep my balance! I'd made a point to adjust my usual race week itinerary, running my Fartlek Friction and Breezily Brisk on Monday and Wednesday, respectively, rather than the usual Tuesday and Thursday routine. All so that I'd hopefully feel lighter and looser come race day. Well, nonetheless, my quads went haywire almost immediately. Granted Hogaboom is one rough, bumpy excuse for a road, but as I tried to blast along at a bristling speed it was almost as though I were waddling bow-legged. Meanwhile, halfway to the Rosecroft junction, the rush of following footfalls had died down to the stomping of just one pursuing pair of feet. Casting a glance back over my shoulder, I fully expected to see a blaze of yellow --- but it was just Prince Joffrey making a valiant effort to not let me escape so soon. Turning right on Rosecroft, however, revealed something of a chase pack chasing the chaser.

I'd been counting heavily on the smoother pavement of Rosecroft to help get my stride under control, but it continued to feel stiff and stumbly as I raced along under the trees. I cleared 0.75 miles maybe a second under 4:00 then, following the first sharp left curve (I had the tangents down to a science), I beeped off mile 1 in 5:25. A single second faster than my opener at this event last year (when I was surrounded by rabbity high schoolers, no less), yes, but the main takeaway was that I was already trailing my CAASA performance from two weeks prior. My motivation was not so fiery, and, just a third of the way into this race, it was becoming quite apparent that it was going to be no contest. Joff, like everyone else, was already slipping further and further back. Then after the road shifted left again I saw two guys standing around who looked like volunteers but ... no cone. Were we simply supposed to U-turn at the approximate place they were standing? This was deeply disconcerting considering that my Forerunner was only up to about 1.45 miles. Yet of course then I did spot the U-turn cone further along, though not much further; I only had 1.52 miles upon turning (at about 8:20, I think) --- making me marvel over how the course, ostensibly the same since 2010, somehow keeps measuring shorter each year. Would it only be marginally 3 miles this time?

Though he would end up finishing 1:07 after me, it wasn't too long after the U-turn before Prince Joff, er, Jeremy Pence greeted me. He courteously extended a hand for a down-low five, but too late did I respond to this gesture. Our hands awkwardly missed. Anyway, soon I found myself plunging straight through an ever thickening, at first seemingly endless, stream of runners flowing to the U-turn I'd long since claimed. And boy were they ever kind, as I received so many hails that my head was in a near constant state of nodding in grinning acknowledgement. I was still trying to run tangents smart, however, and this became tricky the couple of times vehicles crawled slowly through the race, forcing all runners onto one side. Or when I simply had to plow right through the swarm of school kids (the ones who always show up on that bus, all wearing matching T-shirts). All this bemusement was not of benefit to my pace, I'm afraid, since I hit mile 2 in 11:09 --- when all time goals banked on breaking 11:00. That put me 2 seconds slower than what I reached that same point at last year, but exactly the same as my recent CAASA mile 2 time.

Once I'd passed the last of the straggling walkers and again had a wide open road to work with, I wanted to drop the hammer. Yes, I longed to, but my legs seemed locked in 10k-10-miler mode. As in nothing could compel them to carry me along much faster than 5:45/mi. Yet then there it was, the last left onto the most epic of final straightaways --- along which one can eventually see the finish line taunting them from over a quarter-mile ahead. Now, that turn was a sore spot for me in the race last year. Right up until that point, I'd defiantly kept after Strickland and Conor Smith. Yet, upon failing to close the distance on them by the turn, I watched helplessly as they took up Hogaboom and blasted off, leaving me in their distant dust. That pretty much extinguished my motivation, and I plodded to the end of the 2011 Thanksgiving 5k (not realizing until it was too late that I was only a handful of seconds away from cracking 17:00). This time, even though there were no Great Mills XC stars to pursue (nor anyone honestly pursuing me), I was furiously determined to kick down Hogaboom with all the strength that remained to me, redeeming my honor in light of last year.

Yet with that final turn came my entrance into the very maw of the wind beast itself! I was trying, I really was. I'd allowed apathy to creep into my final moments at CAASA, yes, but this time I was giving it all my might. Yet against the wind it was fairly futile, and my instantaneous pacing kept slipping over 6:00/mi despite my most sincere efforts. Ah, and when the time hit 16:00, the finish line did indeed seem mockingly close yet far off. After hitting mile 3 in 17:07 at Step By Step, reaching mile 3 here (which, thankfully, was not quite the end of the race) sub-17:00 was perhaps the most crucial of all objectives. But blast it, the seconds ran out on me faster than I could've imagined, and the time was 16:45 at 2.95 miles (last year I hit mile 3 itself in 16:47). So 17-stinking-flat for 3 miles (at least that's 7 seconds better than I did at CAASA). And as I'd actually kicked my hardest in a vain attempt to reach mile 3 under 17:00, I just plodded through the remaining very short distance to the finish line (3.05 miles final recording, hence the bogus 16-second final "200"). Thus I kept consistent with my CAASA Step By Step 5k performance and added seconds --- 10 this time --- to my 2011 race result.

My CAASA 5k race "apology" was a litany of excuses, though mostly focused on why I struggled on that particular day. Now I must take a broader look at the degradation of my running. The blustery wind, of course, was a clear detriment at both events, but I certainly can't blame everything on it. I begin to wonder if my achievement at LPR10 came at a higher price than I realized. This past summer, and then September especially, were my most grueling running months ever. Both in training volume and intensity. I've got to imagine that, though it delivered me to my goal in Piney Point on October 14th, all that training must've worn me down, leaving my fast edge dulled. Or maybe I'm just getting old (as a runner ... I have been going at this racing thing with almost unfailing dedication since 2006), past the point of diminishing returns and perhaps into the age of getting slower. One thing that's certain is that --- considering the way this recent pair of 5ks went down --- it now seems nothing short of miraculous that I broke 58:00 in the nick of time at LPR10. Because if that race had transpired like these recent 5ks have, I likely wouldn't have matched my 2011 time but rather would've slipped back over an hour.

Though receiving the top prize at the HSMC Thanksgiving (Prediction) 5k was a long time coming (I was 3OA the previous 3 years in a row, and also in 2007 ... and maybe 2006, too? That year's results are missing online), it was still a tad bittersweet to see my long-held M20-29 gold medal go to someone else. I would've liked to see it go to Joe, as that would hopefully have given him some much-belated solace and closure following his near-glory in 2010, but Joe was nowhere to be found this time. So instead the medal went to his most bitter rival of the past year:  German "Ear Spaghetti" JessicaAlbaJenniferLopez!

Congrats on the win.

Certainly the wind and lack of sleep did not help you for this race.

I think you could still run a pretty good 10 miler now.  You'll need to add hills for strength, and fast speedwork for turnover, if you want to work on your speed.

 

I think Doug told me that David just did a 5K time trial on the track last week, to see where he was, and came in just under 16.

Hence my relief that I was not up against that on Saturday (though after the way David ran at Hospice, I figured it was only a matter of time before he'd be breaking 16:00). Interesting how that 4A championship or whatever it was happened to be the day before CAASA, then Battle of the Potomac was on the very day of the HSMC Thanksgiving 5k. I have to assume, though, that my luck with high school XC scheduling conflicts will have run out by Jingle Bell. Come December 8th it'll be time to pay the piper!