What was I Thinking?

Now that I have completed my first 5k in sixteen years, I have had time to reflect on my performance and offer my commentary.

What was I thinking has been lingering in my mind since the end of the race.

Darn it, I know better. From an early age, I learned of the powerful message of Rudyard Kipling's poem, The Female of the Species and yet I failed to recognize what was happening as it was happening in real time.

Let me explain.

I don't own a Fitbit, heart rate monitor, fancy watch or any of the other gizmos used to figure out one's pace.

While training for the race on a treadmill, I relied on the machine's electronic displays to give me that information. My pace was getting better and better culminating in a 23:18 5k on the treadmill three days before the official race.

I knew I was ready but needed a way to monitor my progression during the race.

I had an ingenious plan. I would listen to music and create a playlist which would let me know how I was doing based on the song that was playing.

I created a five song playlist of Rage Against the Machine songs and titled the playlist, Just Enough Rage to Run a Respectable 5k.

At the end of Bomb Track, I should be four minutes into the race and a quick glance to the iPhone I was carrying should tell me I was beyond the 1/2 mile mark.

By the time Know Your Enemy started I would pick up the pace and sprint for a good minute and a half to finish somewhere between twenty-three and twenty-four minutes.

The plan was flawless. I had tested it in the gym and was confident in my execution of the plan.

Upon reflection, Mike Tyson's words, "Everybody has a plan until someone punches them in the mouth," comes to mind.

As we lined up at the starting line, I found myself near the front. I knew this was a good position to

be in but also knew the dangers of running too fast in the beginning.

When the starter said go, I hit start on the iPhone running app to monitor my distance and pace. Next, I needed what seemed like an eternity to minimize the running app and start the playlist. I was off a few seconds, but was able to get the music playing. I then needed to bring back the running app in order to see my pace. Again this took several long seconds but I finally had everything I needed in place. It was time to make my move.

The first person I recognized was the head of our gym. He is the person I would give daily updates to after my training. In the weeks leading up to the race he was telling me I had this and that I was going to do just fine. I passed him.

Next up, I recognized someone on our team who I had heard was a runner. As I approached I wondered if it was a good idea to pass him. A voice from within cautioned me that it was still early and if he's a runner, why not sit behind him and let him set the pace? Despite this sound advice, I passed him.

There was a safety cone ahead that informed us to go around and return the way we came. I set my sights on the next person to pass.

WHEN the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

A lean and athletic looking stroller mom was ahead of me. I don't know if stroller mom is the approved or politically correct term and if it's not I mean no disrespect. The person was a young lady pushing a stroller that contained an infant child.

Not my stroller mom, but you get the picture

She was clipping along at a really fast pace but she had slowed down to make the turn around the cone. Being the gentlemen that I am I decided I would let her complete her turn and then leave her behind.

When Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man,
He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it if he can
But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

Strange. I went outside to pass and she floated to the outside. Ugh, that took more precious energy than I wanted to expend.

I moved to pass on the inside. She drifted back in front of me. I glanced to the left and saw the 1-mile sign and glanced down at my iPhone. It read 6:50.

When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws,
They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws.
’Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts pale.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

I panicked. In the controlled environment of the gym, I knew my pace should be around 7:30. There was no way I could keep this pace and suddenly I could hear my labored breathing over Rage who at that moment were screaming through my headphones to take the power back.

Man, a bear in most relations—worm and savage otherwise,—
Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise.
Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a fact
To its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act.

Yes, time to compromise. Lady you won. Go ahead, I can't hang with you. I'm out of my league and now with over two miles to go I need to worry about simply finishing. The hopes and dreams are all gone because I thought I'd pass the stroller mom. She sped away leaving me in her dust.

The music plan was gone. At this point it was just noise in my ears. I found myself looking at the iPhone with more and more frequency to see how much longer to finish.

I could see the finish line way off in the distance. I had told myself all week to go all out for a minute and a half to finish. At a time when I was trying to will myself to sprint, there was nothing left in the tank. Our gym manager caught up to me and tried to motivate me. "We're almost there, let's sprint in together," he said.

With those words, I followed the advice from the 80's Flock of Seagulls song...I ran.

Dan and I at the finish

With the race completed, I stayed for the awards ceremony. I saw the stroller mom stride to the podium for her award which was posted at some unbelievable time.

It was then and there when I made the connection to Kipling's poem.

I look at the times when I developed a sniffle which quickly evolved into a full blown case of "man cold" which has relegated me to the couch for three days of being nursed back to health.

Meanwhile, I've watched the females in my life feel horrible but still get up, take care of the kids, make lunches, get everyone on the bus, go shopping, feed the dog, run errands, and still go to work.

In retrospect, I tried to take on a stroller mom with a baby...I must need my head examined.

And She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail,
That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male.

SHU Fit Team