This morning I built a fire

I arrived at University of Delaware at about 10:30, which gave me plenty of time to get acclimated for my race, which would be some time just after noon. I warmed up a mile or so and stretched, with a focus on my newfound gluteous stretch.  Closer to my event I did some drills and a couple of 30 meter pick-ups.

I knew that several teammates would be running the 800, so I figured we'd spur each other onward and to a good time. At the time of race check-in, I learned that Kyle Lanier would be in my heat. Kyle always beats me!  I had a chance to get inspired by the heroics of teammate Craig Strimel, who ran a balanced, smart race in 2:14 (second place in his heat). 

There would be 7 in the fastest heat. And so the gun went off.  On account of a teen who slowed up at the 100 mark, I found myself in 6th place at about :30/:31 at the 200; I read the time display as clear as day as I passed.  I waited for the straightaway to go around him.  The front runners must've crossed the 200 in :28 and 29.  I read :62 as I approached the line.  I'd say mid- to high-62 maybe. I realized that I was on pace for a good race, and I could also tell that I was relaxed but needed to pick up the pace.  And so I did, but I had to wait.  Another kid was beginning to decelerate into the turn after the 400, so I had to wait to pass him.  As a result, Kyle extended his lead on me.  I was finally able to surge on the backstretch and pass him.  By the time I reached the 600 mark, Kyle had about 5-7 meters on me.  Buoyed by my teammates' cheers, I told myself to push the last lap, thinking that I could catch him. On my last lap I went to my arms (even though I forgot to say to myself, "arms/toes"). I felt reasonably strong, but knew it would difficult to close.  I uncorked what I had left off the final turn, making up ground on Kyle and passing another guy, who was laboring badly.  Turns out I ran 2:07.79, the best masters-level season opener I've had, for fourth place. The top three times were in the 2:06s, with Kyle posting 2:06.93.  So, in the final analysis, my splits were:
:30+/:31-
:62+(31+/:32-)
1:34+(32)
2:07(33)

OR

30+
31+
32
33

It's coincidental that, like a few years ago when I dropped a 2:04 open at Ursinus, this morning I built a fire and just sat in front of it in my living room.  I played with the sticks and logs as they became nothing more than embers clumped together by the last strength of the fibers that used to tie them together confidently. The weakening flames competed with the glowing orange hot carpet of embers that was the floor of the fireplace. The grate stood firm, while crispy logs tried to hold on, struggling deperately not to fall through the cracks. Eventually, they would fall and spend the hours I was at the meet turning from embers to dust. And that was it.  At some point, I'll get around to cleaning up the mess and finding new logs that will endure the same dignified, purposeful fate. 

Maybe building a fire and burning it is a metaphor for how I should race; maybe it's also therapeutic in some way.  Maybe if I build and burn a fire before next week's meet I'll run well again. 

Footnote and note to self: Do not run the 200 without sufficient rest after the 800.  It was awful!  I think I ran 27-low.  Ouch.  What's more, I was completely done afterwards.  It was a bad decision.  I call myself trying to find my threshold.  Instead I rediscovered two things: hubris and its close cousin, foolishness.