Race day magic (Read 1177 times)

On a normal day, I can push a certain pace for a mile or three. On a race day, I can hold a faster pace reasonably comfortably for 10k or even 13.1 miles. How? Well, race day magic of course...but, I wonder... How does this work?

On a normal day, I can push a certain pace for a mile or three. On a race day, I can hold a faster pace reasonably comfortably for 10k or even 13.1 miles. How? Well, race day magic of course...but, I wonder... How does this work?

Wow, congratulations! To answer your question: I guess do whatever you did.

Aside from the stuff you've already heard such adrenaline, competition, energy of the crowd, etc, I believe that how you train can have a lot to do with how much of that "magic" is present on race day. You did a nice job leading up to this one. Your training was very consistent with plenty of volume and your paces were sensible. Instead of lying on the sofa for the last 2 days, "resting up" before your race, you remained active but kept it nice and easy. I imagine you were chomping at the bit when you lined up. Those are some of the ingredients present when we have one of those magical days. Dude, you just ran a half marathon at a faster pace than you did your 10k PR less than a month ago! That isn't something we see every day. Well done!

But I mean this as a true general question. Something magical does indeed happen, or so it seems, that makes what is normally a hard pace come more easily.

A huge part of it is mental... or more generally, CNS-related. Your expectations and the importance of the performance trickle down to your brainstem, which recalibrates what it thinks is a hard effort. I try hard to play mental games during races and in speedwork to make this phenomenon more effective, convincing myself that what I have to do is easy, and that evidence of past performance indicates I can do it. Of course, that's easier in a race, where I really believe that performing well is important. What works best for me is to repeatedly focus on some object not too far ahead, maybe 50 feet, think of that as the goal, and say to myself, "easy"! Then when I get there, I think about the fact that I'm in essentially the same exertional state as before, except I'm closer to the finish. With this perspective, races and speed workouts seem to run themselves. It's almost like cheating.

Not "worrying". Just curious.

It's called adrenaline and competitive spirit.

It's called adrenaline and competitive spirit.

There are dimensions of experience that by their very nature exceed our attempts to control them by categorizing and understanding them. Explain the moment you release yourself from the rope swing at its furthest point out over that shimmering Tennessee August blue hole. The fact that we do not know how the water will feel is an essential ingredient in the magic. The lack of understanding is a mark of the lack of control that is what makes the experience redemptive in a world that is often all too familiar. Doing is different from knowing. Sometimes the experiences overlap. To race is to enter consciously into the aspects of experience that do not overlap with knowledge. This is scary for most people, and they cannot manage it even for brief moments. But there are a few who are brave enough to enter completely, to give themselves over completely to the race experience, to the point that they lose themselves entirely. Those are the racers. You'll see them alone in their loss, or in small groups, usually at the front. Two aphorisms from Nietzsche:

Not to wish to see too soon. As long as one lives through an experience, one must surrender to the experience and shut one's eyes instead of becoming an observer immediately. For that would disturb the good digestion of the experience: instead of wisdom, one would acquire indigestion.

From the practice of wise men. To become wise, one must wish to have certain experiences and run, as it were, into their gaping jaws. This, of course, is very dangerous; many a wise guy has been swallowed.

OK Trent, you made me think about this some. Let me ask you a question. How'd you feel race morning before you busted that PR? Chills running down your spine? You knew you trained for it, didn't you? I ran 4 PR's last year but honestly I expected them. I was running more miles than ever, and training smarter than ever. Still there's nothing like the feeling of stepping up to the start line knowing you're ready to race. I'm running more this year because I like that feeling. Your training is the magic.