The long road back...

...to the track that almost didn't happen.

For the first time in 15 years, I stepped onto the track for a 1 mile race and all the old instincts took over.  It had to be the shoes.  Yes, I was wearing the same pair of spikes that I ran my last 1500m race in some 15 plus years ago.

The timeline:

6:10pm

I arrive at Haydon Track at the University of Chicago, sign in and pick up my number.  There were somewhere in the neighborhood of 500 competitors ranging in age from 4 to 60+.  This was more than expected so I found a spot in the shade to relax and watch because the mile was the second to last event.

6:30pm

The meet was supposed to start at 6:00 and the first event is just getting under way.  It's the 4x100 and takes about 20 minutes to run the 3 heats.  Since this is a free meet, they only have access to the track until 9:00.   At this point, I'm already getting worried that they will call the meet before the mile is run.

7:09pm

The second event, the 5000m, is wrapping up so all that is left now is the 100, 800, 400 and then the mile.  Thinking that I have about an hour, I start to jog lightly to loosen things up.  After about a mile of jogging and several heats of the 100, I realize that it is going to be longer than I originally thought, so I shut it down and tried to stay loose.  I'd estimate that there where at least 30 heats of the 100 when all was said and done.

8:20pm

The 100 is finally wrapping up and they're calling the 800 runners to the line.  At this point, I'm seriously considering running it because I'm thinking that there is no way they're going to get the mile in and I'd hate to have waited that long and not even run a race.  I finally decide against it, thinking to myself that I came here to run the mile so it is that or nothing.  At the very least, I had enjoyed watching a lot of young kids getting exposed to track and field.

8:40pm

The first of many heats of the 400 is going off.  I hear rumblings in the crowd around me that the 400 will be the last event.  I decide to stick around anyway to watch.

9:15pm

There are only a few heats left of the 400 and I'm just leaning on the fence by the starting line watching as many of the spectators and athletes are clearing out.  I think to myself, “It's a good thing I'm not running now because my legs are cold and stiff from standing around so long.”  Then as the last heat of the 400 is lining up, I hear it:

"All milers to the starting line"

OH SHIT!!!!  I grab my bag and take off for the entrance to the track and over to the starting line.  I quickly strip off my warmups as the starter is telling the other milers to go to line.  There are only 4 other milers, 3 high school age kids that looked pretty fast and a guy in his late 50s or 60s.  I quickly formulate my plan to fall in behind the kids and see what happens.

9:23pm

The gun goes off!  I quickly found myself running 3 wide in the middle of lane 2 half way through the first turn.  I eased up and tucked in behind the 3 kids.  By the 150m mark, I was already noticing that my breathing was way out of control.  The pace didn't feel fast, but it wasn't comfortable either.  I went through the 200 right where I wanted to be at 36 or 37 seconds. That helped me relax and things started to flow from there.  We went through the first 409m (first lap is longer since it's on a 400m track) in 77.  By this time, 2 of the kids had opened up a sizable lead and I was running off of the 3rd one's shoulder.  It stayed this way as we went through the second lap at 2:35(78).  As we came around the back stretch of the 3rd lap, I felt like the pace was starting to slow.  I figured with my lack of speed work and the kid's youth that I wouldn't be able to out kick him at the end, so now was the time.  I surged passed him with just over 600m to go and tried to open up a lead.  Through 3 laps in 3:54(79).  With 300m to go I took a quick look over my inside shoulder, but didn't see the kid behind me.  I could hear him though so I knew he was close.  My body now feels like it is going into rigor mortis from the massive pools of lactic acid running though my veins.  At 150m to go, I could still hear him but it didn't sound like he'd gotten any closer.  I dig down find one last gear to try and hold him off.  In the end, I didn't have enough, he ended up passing me like I was standing still with about 50m to go.  Official time 5:11.1(77).

Given the circumstances, I couldn't be happier with my effort and result.  It makes me want to get out and do it again.  Running this race just made me remember why the mile (or 1500) used to be my favorite event.  It's the perfect balance of speed, stamina and strategy.