Threshold Run

Early this morning I found myself standing in a crowd of strangers who were all decked out in running apparel and who were all eagerly awaiting the sound of the gun for the beginning of the Chateau de Vincennes 10km. I had decided to sign up to run this race when I saw that my marathon training schedule called for 40 minutes of threshold pace (Gross!). All around me I was surrounded by the standard crowd that I came to love at the beginning of such an event in Houston. You had your nervous people who rocked back and forth, side-to-side, front-to-back, shifting weight from one foot to another; you had the peaceful and calm people who just stood intently no different than if they were waiting in line at McDonald's and, of course, you had the "dude, save some energy for the course" people who were in a constant state of motion with their stretching, knee-high jumps, and deep breathing exercises. Ah yes - to be racing again!

What wasn't standard about this crowd, at least as I have grown accustomed, was the little 80 year old lady standing to my right (don't get me wrong, she looked in great shape...for her age. You can call me cocky if you want, but I immediately discarded her as competition - besides, she wasn't even in my age group!), the guy in a one-peice spandex outfit to my left with a retro discman strapped around his biceps that resembled a gladiator's shield because it was so big, and the tres-chic chap standing infront of me with a trendy cashmere sweater flung over his shoulders with the sweater arms cooly tied over his chest. You see, normally I line up no less than 5 rows deep from the starting line where I am surrounded by some pretty serious people with some pretty serious speed who have some pretty serious intentions. Today, however, I sat waiting for the start of the race so far back from the start line that I was not completely sure if the start was infront of me or behind me because I could not see it either way. There were 3 gates (Green, Yellow, and Red) and you guessed it, I was in the back - the Red gate. How symbolic is the Red gate?! Were they expecting us to stop along the course, just like we would at a red light?

Normally, this situation would really bother me. But today I was not there to "race" I was just there to take advantage of a closed 10km course in which I could do my Jack Daniel's threshold run. I did not care about PR'ing, I did not care about overall time, and surprisingly, I did not care that the dude's unitard right next to me was a little too tight. I just cared about running a quality workout at threshold pace from beginning to end.

It took me ~ 30 seconds to cross the start line, which is the longest it has taken me to cross any start line for any distance, including marathons! I proceeded to run the first mile in the knee-high weeds; there were few brave souls who wanted to leave the confines of the very narrow path that the race was being held on, so I found that running here was the best place to pass people. Just when I thought that it was safe to join the rest of the weekend warriors on the path, we crossed the 1km marker. Personally, I did not care - I learned to run with miles, and I continue to run using miles, but at that very moment EVERYONE looked down at their watch and realized, "Whoa, I am going to fast! I better not just slow down gradually over the next kilometer, but I better come to a screetching halt, right now!" Wow, this was comparable to a hurricane evacuation traffic jam on I-45 in Houston. With some nimble toes I quickly got back into my weed patch and continued running!

It was really fun doing this race as a training run because I actually felt really good the whole time. I was working hard, which was the point, but I was not in my usual race state. You know the state I am talking about - Brightroom usually does a really good job at capturing that exact feeling (and then they wonder why nobody buys their race photos afterwards!). But it was fun running beside people who were in that state, because I kept thinking, "man, it sucks to be you...that looks really hard what you are doing over there!". So, for me mentally - using a race to train in was awesome! I found that the time flew by, I did not have to worry about getting run over by a crazed Parisian driving their Smart Car (because that would suck if you died by collision with a Smart Car...just mull than one over for a second), and food and beverage were provided!

Jack Daniel's threshold pace for VDOT's 58, 59, and 60 are 6:04, 5:59, and 5:54 min/mile. He also recommends adding 12 seconds to the pace if you plan on running the entire Threshold workout in one segment. My splits were as follows:

5:55/6:01/6:03/5:57/5:57/5:49/5:40 (last 0.2) min/mile
Total TIME: 37:13 minutes
Avg. PACE: 5:58 min/mile

Total Weekly Miles: 47.97 miles (This kills me - the goal for this week was 48.00)...urghhh!

I ran a little faster than intended, but I was motivated because I did not want that guy in the one-piece spandex outfit to catch me and I would be dammed if the old lady was going to give me a run for my money!

Here is the course. It ends inside the walls of the Chateau de Vincennes on a cobblestone pathway. At the end I saw a guy catch a toe on one of the cobblestones and wipe out.

My heart rate in red; my pace in blue. The averages are posted on the sides of the plot.

Here I am after the race (the guy on the left looks really cold, but it wasn't that bad! In fact, one might argue it was almost perfect racing conditions today!)

These are the post-race snacks. Please note how closely packed the food is on the plate, how none of it is individually packaged, and how those runner's hands are "fresh" of a 10km, and were presumably used for "support" earlier in the port-a-johns... I thought the plates of sugar-cubes were pretty interesting though!

This is the finisher's award. Jennie dropped hers and chipped it...that sucks!



After the race, Jennie and I got some lunch at a restaurant on the edge of the park. I ordered the Empire State Burger. I did not know that it would be served sunny-side up! Perhaps next time I will inform the waiter that I prefer my eggs scrambeled!



Later dudes!