Courage: that word has resonated strongly with me ever since I spied a pendant in jewelry store in Victoria, B.C., before my 2014 Boston-qualifying marathon. It read, “courage without fear.” Courage: It was a word my brilliant coach, Bri, said in a tweet to me. Courage: It was a random, last-minute addition to my fire-me-up 10K playlist. And when that song came on near Mile 3 of Saturday evening’s race, that word became my mantra.
But as I tie my shoes in the minvan after parking at Vancouver Lake, I feel timid and nervous. Telling myself I have to fake it until I can make it, I get out and walk away from crowd of racers, port-a-potties, and start/finish arch. I need to get in my own headspace, do my own warm-up, listen to my own body.
And when I tune in, I like what I hear—and feel. I am filled with a sense confidence that the short 10K taper has been timed perfectly. Not just to the day or the hour of the race, but the precise minute of it. My strides feel loose yet powerful as I run for 10 minutes; my hips, knees, ankles, and feet are free of aches and impingements as I do dynamic flexibility drills on a deserted stretch of pavement. I soar doing 50-meter strides before heading to start line.
The starting area is delightfully uncrowded toward the front; organizers are asking racers to self-seed by pace. I take a brave-for-me step and stand toward the front, amidst runners half my age—and two-thirds my weight.
The moment I cross the starting line, my body feels lit up by adrenaline and caffeine (thank you, Nuun Energy!). The lower half of my body is countless pinpricks of electricity, not muscles and bones. I remind myself to breath, and focus on running a rate of perceived exertion (RPE) 7. Bri had described it in the race plan as, “strong, but VERY controlled…it should feel like you are holding back a little.” Bri instructed me to not look at my pace at all in the first mile, so I don’t. First mile clicks by in 7:54, under my 8:00 goal pace to bring me to my A-goal of 50 minutes.
My legs materialize underneath me for the second and third miles, which I run in 8:12 each. I only glance at my GPS watch when it beeps at every mile. Despite Bri telling me she wanted me to drop the pace by 5 or 10 seconds from the first mile pace, I decide I’m running RPE 7 until the final mile, when I’ll try to turn it up to RPE 8. I might not be a natural runner, but I am proud of my canny knack to run by feel.
Chugging up a slight, short incline toward the turnaround spot of the out-and-back Twilight course, my chest heaves with pride almost as much as aerobic exertion: I’m still up near the front of the pack. A smattering of light rain falls from the overcast skies as I try to hang with a guy who looks to be in his early 40s. When “Girl on Fire” comes on during Mile 4, I try to summon the tenacity of mother runner Michelle whose grit (and grace) I admire.
As much as I try to keep my foot on the gas, my exertion level dips a few times in Miles 4 and 5, as does my pace—8:24 and 8:26, respectively. But in the final mile, an internal repetition of “Courage,” then “Unleash,” spurs me on. Bri’s race plan told me to, “Give me what you got, Sarah….no regrets here.” The long, flat straightaway to the finish arch seems endless, then it’s not: I burst across the finish line in what turns out to be 51:03.
Seeing the official results, I regret not looking at my GPS: If I’d realized I was so close, I might have dug a little deeper after the midway point. But my spirits are buoyed when I learn I placed 1st in my age group (a first 1st for me!) and 38th overall (as in, men and women!). To be one of the top finishers in a 10K race makes me feel very, well, courageous.
There’s more than this race report: Hear more about my 10K race report on Friday’s podcast, which is all about 10Ks, with numerous mother runners joining the conversation. Come back and check it out!
Great race! So inspired! Congratulations.
Nice job, SBS!! It sounds like that was an awesome race for you. Isn’t it wonderful when everything just ‘clicks’? :) Rock on BAMR.
The stars aligned, for sure!
Super duper amazing courageous job! I can’t wait to listen to more during the podcast. GOOOO YOU!
Thanks for your well wishes pre-race, Marianne!
My eyes well with excitement and pride as I read this post. Your posts are so touching and I love the honesty and courage. thank you and congrats on a super race.
Jode: Your words mean a lot to me. Thank you very much.
Terrific job Sarah!! you say it rained…..so must have been humid! kudos for doing so well!
No, not very humid. It was about 66 degrees–great racing conditions.
Super job SBS!!!! Amazing race, amazing splits and a first place AG award! You rock!
Thank you, Jacqueline. I appreciate the kudos.
I am SO so happy for you! Congrats on AG #1!!!!
Thanks: I’m pretty stoked.
Woot Woot! Awesome!
Way to go, SBS! Love this riveting race report, and congrats on the race.
You are very kind for calling it, “riveting,” Cassandra! Thank you!
Very inspiring Sarah! Kudos on your awesome race!
Thank you, Lisa: I’m still on a high!
I am very happy for you (and not surprised at all). Great job!!
Congratulations, Sarah! So impressed with you for having the courage to leave it all out on the course. I was just wondering today how your race went & was thrilled to see the post! Woohoo BAMR!
Is the “Girl on Fire” song by Alicia Keys? Someone else? So happy for your run!
You are SUCH an inspiration! What an amazing race! You serve as a reminder to all of us that we can push and we can achieve.
So inspiring Sarah. Great run!
I really enjoyed reading your race recap and hearing bits of your training on the podcast! Congrats on a great race.
Way to go! I’ve loved hearing your take to the 10k. Thank you for continuing to share.