This lifting stuff might be working in more detail

The last three weeks or so, I've had a pretty steady diet of exercise. I've been going five or six days a week, usually with biking and running four or five of those days and lifting two of the days. I've had some times where I was dragging a bit. There were even a few nights where I felt like I had entered the land of fatigue, recognizable by an inability to sleep despite general heaviness. Yet, there were also times where I felt like my body was stronger and more resilient. A few weeks ago I raced in that four-miler and I felt like I was able to count on some different muscle groups. Yesterday, I put myself to the yearly mile test.

I'd actually passed the test in April, but in ways it's a new year and I wanted to go well under the five minute mark. I set my sites on 4:48. That would be an improvement of nearly ten seconds over April's run. The heats were structured differently than I remember. There was a 4:50 to 5:20 heat and a 4:50 and under heat. What happened to 5:00 and under? My initial instinct was to enter the under 4:50 heat. That was my goal after all. As I warmed up, doubt crept in. Would I be better served at the back of the pack or at the front? Was I really going to be able to improve by ten seconds? I nearly gave in and switched heats, but Clare helped fortify my confidence. Besides, I told myself, someone has to get last; it might as well be going after it and missing by a few seconds. It's not like I'd be in anybody's way.

The pep talk in my head was chock full of strategy and low on pep. I knew that at least ten runners in the race were looking to post times at or below 4:35. I recognized a couple guys that I've seen run 4:25 in the last few years. The race happening in front was not my race. Chasing the leaders would be chasing failure at this point. I called on my experience from a few weeks ago and my experience from many miles and reminded myself of this strategy repeatedly as I approached the line. Getting excited wouldn't help me, I needed to stay focused on my goal and run 4 laps each one at about 72 seconds.

The heat before us went off and a group finished with times of about 4:47. Another wave of doubt started to wash over me, but I silenced it with a strider and felt the power in my legs. With my head quieted, I took my place at the back of the starting pack. The night was almost perfect. The sun was behind clouds and the heat and humidity have gone missing from DC's summer menu. The breeze was slight. GO! I started the race in last on the heels of a man in blue shorts. A large rumbling pack sped around the corner and I held my position in last trying to gauge my pace. I knew a 72 second lap would feel pretty comfortable, but with the race going on it was feeling slow. I took the first lap in 70 seconds. I stayed behind blue, flashing a little to the outside as I could see a small gap opening up between us and the trailing group. Blue held me off and I tucked back in. We came across in 2:22. I was slightly ahead of pace, but wanted to dip no further.

The third lap takes its toll. It's where the runners who got out too fast for their liking start to fade. Blue and I surged. We seemed to have the same race plan. We picked off a small pack and kept going. I don't know my lap three time, but it had to be pretty close to the others, probably right around 70 seconds.

The bell was ringing for the last lap. I heard the cheers of my friends as I went by. Blue continued his surge. I gave chase, but he opened up a small gap on me. We passed another. I tried to make a move on the back turn, but as far as I can recollect nothing happened. I held off somebody down the home stretch, but I did it with an almost imperceptible kick. I arrived and found my time to be comfortably below my goal. I had run 4:41.

I don't think I've run that fast since the middle of college. Looks like I'm going to keep lifting.