My one mile race at the Potomac Valley Games ( http://www.geocities.com/pvtc.geo/pvgames.html ) was on Sunday, August 31, at 11:30am. It was a cooler day than usual, but still warm (80 degrees and sunny with moderate humidity). While I was warming up, I saw a woman set a new world record in the high jump for age 60-65. I thought, "this is going to be a good day".
My official goal was to set a personal record by breaking 5:07 for the mile. However, in every race, I usually have three goals: "Gotta have": I expect to meet this time goal unless something unexpected happens, like side stitches, injury, or a really bad day. "Wanna have": This is a realistic goal provided the conditions are good, I'm feeling fresh, and I race well. "Wouldn't it be nice if": This is remotely possible, but can only occur under optimal conditions and with total determination.
For this race, my goals were:
I had been training for a 5 minute mile, but I didn't think it was a realistic goal given the fitness level indicated by my July 12th race. According to Daniels, my VDOT based on that race (5:11) was about 57. In order to run in under 5 minutes, I would have to increase my VDOT to 59.5. From everything I had read, that would be virtually impossible to do in only 7 weeks of training. Furthermore, my measured VDOT has never been higher than 58. But I asked a friend, Steve Teslik, to provide some coaching, and based upon some time trials, he felt confident that I could break 5 minutes when it was time to race. I did not feel so confident.
But when race day came, I thought about some things that Steve and another running friend, Jeff Reed, had told me. And I realized something very important: if I did not commit to breaking 5 minutes, it definitely wouldn't happen, but if I did commit to it, it might happen. I decided I was willing to risk not setting a personal record in order to have the possibility of breaking 5 minutes. So when, a few minutes later, someone warming up on the track asked me what my goals were for the day, I paused, fumbled for my courage, and finally came out with "I'm going to try to break 5 minutes in the mile." There it was. I'd said it aloud. At that moment, my commitment was made.
I had a meticulous schedule for the entire morning of the race, planned down to the very minute. I did my warmup, stretching, strides, and then made my way to the start. I would be running in a heat of runners aged 17 to 34. After reading all of the names of the competitors, the announcer said we had a very competitive field. This didn't bother me because I was not racing them, I was racing against the clock. I knew that most if not all of them were much faster than me. I was only hoping that I wouldn't have to race completely alone.
Trying to find a start position not too far from lane one.
I had everything planned so well, but I made one critical oversight: I forgot to put my wristwatch in stopwatch mode. When the starter said "on your marks", I looked down at my watch and realized it wasn't ready, so I quickly started fiddling with it. While I was adjusting it, the gun went off! Ouch, I nearly missed the start. It caused me to hesitate for only a fraction of a second, but as you will see, that fraction of a second was very important.
Hesitated on the start while adjusting my watch, losing precious time.
In the first lap, I felt pretty numb. There was way too much adrenaline coursing through my veins. I tried to relax and hold back on the pace because I knew that if my first lap was too fast, I would run out of fuel before the finish.
Still running on adrenaline, finished lap one in 74 seconds (1 second too fast).
I came through lap one in 74 seconds, which was faster than I wanted (especially considering that the first lap is 9 meters longer than the others), but I was within the safe zone for not blowing up later. I decided to ease up a little on lap two, but still keep about the same effort. But because of all the adrenaline, I still felt out of control. I couldn't relax and find a rhythm until more than halfway through lap 2.
The adrenaline finally starts to wear off during lap 2.
As I finished lap 2, the numbness was quickly replaced by discomfort. As I approached the clock, I realized with alarm that I had fallen off pace considerably. I was slow! My 2nd lap took 78 seconds, so I was halfway through the race and already 2 seconds in debt.
Two seconds behind schedule at the end of lap 2. Uh-oh!
My overall race strategy was to arrive at the end of lap 3 on pace no matter what. So I now had to make up two seconds in one lap to keep with my plan. I picked up the pace and as I entered the back straight, I noticed one of the front runners had fallen back. I gained confidence as I passed him and began gaining ground on the next runner ahead of me. He looked back, saw me coming, and picked up the pace. He didn't know I was only racing the clock - not him.
Picked up the pace during lap 3 in hopes of making up lost time.
Lap 3 is cruel and always exacts a toll. After coming around the curve, all I could do was try to hold my pace and hope for good news from the clock. As I approached the clock for the third time, I realized that good news wasn't to be had.
Receiving bad news from the clock at the end of lap 3.
The clock revealed that although my 3rd lap was two seconds faster than the previous one, I was still losing time. I had lost another second, so now I was three seconds behind and running out of fuel. This was a huge psychological blow. Things were not going at all according to plan. My first thought was, "I'm going to run a 5:03 and that will be okay because it will still be my fastest mile ever". And that was when I had a moment of truth. I didn't come out here today to run a 5:03 mile. I remembered all my hard training and the commitment I had made to myself and others to give it my best effort. So as I entered the back straight with 300 meters to go, my mind assaulted my body: "go now!". And I went. No strategy now, no complex calculations, just push push push! All I could think was "come on, just a little bit longer."
Coming down the home stretch with everything I had left.
As I entered the final straightaway with 100 meters to go, I could hear people cheering me on. I kicked. But I remembered thinking, after my July race, that I could have pushed even harder in the home stretch. So even though I was already pumping my arms, I reached down deep and kicked even harder. I didn't go a lot faster, but I did go faster. I was now saturated with lactic acid, all the way out to my fingertips.
Approaching the clock, as it reads: 5:00.
As I approached the clock, I saw: 4:58... 4:59... 5:00. I was trying to piece together my time, but the pain was severe. Had I broken 5 minutes or not? It was only a fleeting thought. After crossing the line, I couldn't do anything but just keep jogging forward and wait for the pain to subside. Eventually, I turned around and headed back toward the finish to look for Pamela. I shook hands with the runner I had passed.
When I found Pamela, she could tell I wasn't doing well. I had a headache and my throat was still burning up. She had me pour water over my head several times and drink. I finally found a bench in the shade and sat down. It took 15 more minutes before I felt comfortable getting up and walking around.
As we walked past the announcer, he yelled "hey Michelucci!". I went over to see what he wanted. He said he thought I might have broken 5 minutes. He decided to find out from the time keepers. Meanwhile I began talking with some masters runners who had just finished racing the mile themselves. One of them had run a 5:02. They had seen me finish and, sympathetic to my situation, were also eager to find out my time. Finally, the race announcer walked over to us with a clipboard and said "you're gonna weep when you see this. I mean you're literally going to weep." He showed me the printout: 5:00.22.
One of my all-time running goals had been to break the 5 minute mile. Here I was 23/100ths of a second shy of achieving that goal. I remembered my slight hesitation when the starting gun when off. What could I say, except maybe "AAAAAAARGH!"
At the same time, I was thrilled. It is the fastest mile I have ever run. I didn't break the 5-minute mile, but I ran a 5-minute mile. In my race against the clock, I suppose I could call that a tie. I'll take it - for now.
Photos by Pamela K. Michelucci (support crew and race photographer).
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