I do appreciate all you YC friends being so quick and eager to comment on things interesting to me, which mainly is beer, birds, and music. There is also my attempt at foot racing.
Maybe if I explain the day as I see it, some of my friends who are not racers will take an interest. One does not need to play football, etc to be a fan and have fun with it. Roadkill Racers can be your home team
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Now that my physical and mental wounds are healing, trying to figure what was going on in this race.
The key to improve is simple, eat less and train harder. Easier and more fun is to blame things on other areas and try to solve those imaginary issues.
I know I am not in the shape I was a year ago and 15 pounds up.
I raced here last yeaar and intended to return this year, but a few days off did not want to. In the end I went, and glad I did as these things are always fun (except the racing part). It is a bigger race (415) and this year is now 39 years old. There are always good runners here.
Last year I was beaten by 2 of the 10 geezers my age who showed, but was limping in over 29 minutes with a torn hamstring. I believed this year I could get into the 25's which would give me a shot at 3rd depending who showed.
While my weight is up and my training is down (funny how that works out), I have no injuries to use as an excuse at the moment. Not showing would have been "cowdarice", so I went.
The weather was clear and cool and very windy with strong gusts coming off the lake.
It was a beautiful day to race across the Hartwell Dam. This course is flat, fast, and point to point. I can't think of a more beautiful and fun race to take on. If you are ever in this area, walk across.
These days I am getting to know a few folks, last year knew no one. I rode over on the bus with my friend Judy Walls. Lined up, and I got to talk with David Spark, Darrell Newby and Tom Wild. I had seen one of the guys from last year who beat me, but did not see him in the crowd before the start. The other I have not laid eyes on in maybe 30 years and have no idea as to what he looks like now.
The gun fired, and I was off. As usual I wanted to quit after 3 minutes, but did not. By 10 minutes I promised myself (yet again) I would never do this again. All my energy left and my demons arrived.
What happens is your heart beat rockets. Your body does not like this and your mind tells you to cut that crap out -> to stop -- NOW!!!
Sitting on my ass writting this, I have lots of courage and resolve, but things are very different when your lungs are working as hard as possible and still you can't breathe. When your heart jumps to max to pump the blood, and it is not enough, it gets kinda scarey.
Training is key. If you can experience these "death signals" in training (and in other races) on a regular basis, you learn you may not die today. You may, but maybe your mind is wrong. People believe the front runners are gliding along with the wind in the hair going for victory with less pain than they. In truth, front racers are in more pain because they have conditioned themselves to deal with more pain (and why they are "front runners"). Racing is not jogging. If at any time in a race you can "deal" -> you are not giving your best effort and need to press. Racing is about pushing the body into incredible pain.
I am really poor at that these days as I don't really train. I did many years back and reaped the rewards, but not as motivated now. That does not make the pain less, just my ability to deal with it. A race is not a movie. You don't just get inspired and deal with it like a movie star hero might.
So back to my race as not only do I like to talk about me, but it is what I know most about. 
The course was flat, there was wind, but mostly cross wind, don't think it had much affect on my effort. The temp was good at around 60. Competiton and freinds were there to push one. The stage was nearly perfect.
So what happended to my old ass?
Thanks to modern nerd gear, I have some stats.
My pace slowed from OK to pathetic by the last ten minutes. By 16 minutes I had slowed to near 9 minute pace.
My heart beat was still near max, but I was going no where. That is sad. Why was that? WTF went wrong?
My effort was still there as the heart beat shows, I was not taking a break.
A 5K is not a Marathon. The muscles have plenty of fuel for it. Did lactic acid slow me. Yep, and that is really upsetting. I just don't have the base endurance. My leg speed is not too bad for a guy my age, but I can't hold it. Spotting the kids 20 years is OK, but not 20+ pounds.
The answer is to run more miles in training, but today decided to just grab a beer and sit on the porch and think about it all.
My problem may be that my yard is so interesting, it is killing my foot racing.
On the other hand, that may be true for my peers also as they did even worse than me.
I did promise my brain if it would let me fininish I would never put it to the test again.
Now with excllent beer on the porch, maybe I lied?
Comments are encouraged. You don't have to be a Foot Racer or a Baseball player or a Boxer to have expert opinions. I am a foot racer and know little about that game compared to College Football where I am the World's leading expert.
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