On Sunday, the Puma will toe the starting line at the Emerald Across the Bay 12k with one isolated and intense thought on his mind…funny-ass kitten videos. However, after that adorable/hilarious brain wave passes, he’ll then realize a race is about to start, so he better focus (I’m going to stop writing in the third person now, because much like a puppy who sees its reflection in the mirror for the first time, I’m starting to confuse and aggravate myself).
The ground (and the competition) trembles with their every step. |
As noted above, my first race of the year, the Emerald Across the Bay 12k, takes place this weekend. The race has additional significance this year, because I’m the defending Clydesdale Division (see: “Fatty Race”) Champion. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the “Clyesdale” term, some races include special (see: better) divisions for larger (see: sexier) competitors. Men who weigh over 200 lbs. and women who weigh over 150 lbs. can compete in these special divisions. The men’s division is called the “Clydesdale” division, after the majestic horse that, most notably, pulls the Budweiser delivery cart during Superbowl commercials. The creators of the women’s category, apparently not wanting to liken their athletes to beer-toting beasts-of-burden, named it the “Athena” division. It’s definitely appreciated when races recognize the winners of these sub-divisions, because those scrawny elite runners will never truly understand what it’s like to be slowed down by the weight of your own breathtaking awesomeness.
Getting back to the topic at hand, my upcoming race inspired the subject matter of today’s post, which is race preparation and strategy.
Race Week Training
When Charlton Heston says to taper, you freakin' taper! |
One of the most talked about concepts in endurance running is the pre-race “taper” or the gradual decrease of training leading up to a race. In the running community, this strategy is devoutly followed as if it were handed down from a burning bush atop Mount Sinai (“Thou shall not toil strenuously upon the eve of a mighty contest.”).
Tapering is usually vital if you want to ensure fresh legs for a competition, but the amount of reduction needed depends on the race. For a marathon, I’ll start my taper about three weeks prior to the actual competition. This doesn’t mean I stop running altogether. Rather, I’ll gradually decrease the volume of running. For a tune-up 12k (7.5 miles) like this, however, I essentially train through it. Here is what my training log looks like this week:
DAY | WORKOUT | RESULT |
Monday | 10 miles @ Easy Pace | 1:22:33 min. 8:15 min/mile |
Tuesday | Stationary Bike | 60 min. |
Wednesday | 6 miles @ Easy Pace | 46:40 min. 7:46 min/mile |
Thursday | 4 miles @ 12k Race Pace | 27:05 min. 6:46 min/mile |
Friday | 4 miles @ Easy Pace | TBD |
Saturday | 2 miles @ Easy Pace | TBD |
Sunday | RACE DAY (7.5 miles) | TBD |
While there is no significant rest building up to Sunday, I’m confident that my body will be fresh and ready to go come Sunday morning. Besides, I always run a couple miles the day before a race, just to make sure all of the bits and pieces still work.
Pre-race Food
Bagel + Handful of Skittles + Gu Packet = Puma’s recipe for total dominance.
KABLAMO!
You have been warned.
Warm Up
Many people develop pre-race routines that typically include jogging to warm up the muscles, stretching thoroughly, and finally running some striders at race pace to make sure the body is ready. Sounds boring, huh?
Here’s a checklist of pre-race activities that I typically complete before a competition starts:
- Pretend to be a Race Official and give other competitors directions to the wrong starting point.
- Still dressed as a Race Official, tell competitors that the race was cancelled, and they should expect a full refund in the mail.
- Secretly fill up competitors’ Camelbaks with vodka instead of water.
- Make fellow competitors feel self-conscious about their running motion before the race starts, thus eliminating any confidence they possessed.
- Let competitors cut in line for the bathroom, but then lock them in the Porto-potty once they enter.
- Graciously offer to double knot competitors’ shoelaces for them, but then tie their shoes together instead.
Race Strategy
Last year, I completed this event with a time of 53:59, which is about a 7:14 minute per mile pace. This year, I’m hoping to run about 2 minutes faster.
My general race strategy is fairly simple. First, set an ambitious goal. Second, run the first few miles slightly faster than the goal pace. Third, hold on for dear life in the final miles. If I collapse into the fetal position due to exhaustion (not fear this time) immediately after finishing a race, I consider it a huge success.
In addition to this broad strategy, I also create a specific plan for each race in which I compete. I formulated this detailed plan with the help of my training partner, the motivational “Adolescent Karate Tortoise”, and my spirit guide, Han Solo (Don’t worry about it; I’ll explain in a later post). Here is what my mile-by-mile strategy looks like for the Emerald 12k Across the Bay:
Start: Sprint out as fast as I can to get in front of the pack. Then, with the rest of the field behind me, start spinning uncontrollably with my arms extended and yelling “I’m a helicopter! I’m a helicopter!” at the top of my lungs. It really freaks people out and sets the tone for the remainder of the race.
Mile 1: The first mile is pretty much all down hill, so after performing my patented “Helicopter Maneuver”, I’ll conserve energy for later stages of the race by rolling down the hill.
Mile 2: The second mile is made up of steep switchbacks that eventually lead racers to the pedestrian path of the Golden Gate Bridge. The Adolescent Karate Tortoise is letting me borrow his grappling hook, so I’ll be taking a more direct route up to the Bridge.
Mile 3: I’ll be harshly reminded that I'm not all that fond of heights as I battle vertigo running across the Bridge.
Mile 4: Take a brief moment to kiss solid ground once I’m off the bridge. Hopefully a few competitors will trip over my hunched over body.
This image is self-explanatory |
Mile 5: The race continues along the path next to Crissy Field. Since runners are now at sea-level, it’s perfectly safe to push competitors into the Bay, so let the shoving commence! Endurance running is a full contact sport when Puma is in the race (I’ve been lugging this American Gladiators jousting lance [see: giant Q-tip] around for 5 miles, I might as well start using it!).
Mile 6: Change course markers as I go by them with the goal of misleading the remaining runners (see: slow-pokes) behind me.
Mile 7 to Finish: Run "balls-to-the-walls" until I cross the finish line, all the while yelling “Your shoe's untied!”, hoping to get all the runners around me to momentarily look down, and thus, lose speed as they charge towards the end.
So there you have it. That’s the current plan of attack heading into this weekend’s race. Check back in Tuesday for the highly anticipated results post.
P.S. I forgot to mention that it's important to always check the weather on race day. Sunday's forecast = Rainy with a chance of "Vanilla Thunder" (The name I go by when I ball it up at Harlem's Rucker Park).
P.S. I forgot to mention that it's important to always check the weather on race day. Sunday's forecast = Rainy with a chance of "Vanilla Thunder" (The name I go by when I ball it up at Harlem's Rucker Park).
I like the strategy -- very well thought out. A wise man once said, "If you're not cheating, you're not trying to win."
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