I’ve Finally Learned How To Execute Running Races Well

As a runner, I have usually been someone who executes poorly during races. For people that don’t run, it means I would choke during big time events and runs. I wouldn’t run as well as my coaches would know me capable of. I wouldn’t finish the race well and I would let dozens of people sprint past me at the line. If you see pictures of me running, I usually look like I’m about to pass out and in the worst pain in the world.

This is how I used to look when I was running, back in high school. As you can see, I’m grimacing like I really need to use the bathroom in all my past photos.

Photo from the author

Photo from the author

I ran a race yesterday that went pretty well for a humid and windy day. I ran 56:14 in a 10-mile race. I know I am capable of better, but with a strong headwind for miles 6–8 in the race, it was a good effort all things considered and I did the best I could. On a more vanity-related note, I look pretty relaxed and steady in my newer photos, especially when you compare them to the old ones.

In running, there are different levels of effort required for different contexts. I would often run too hard while training and on easy runs. During workouts, I would run too hard and treat workouts like races. For a long time, I wouldn’t internalize that not everything was a race.

I would not internalize not every effort was supposed to be 100%. I would not internalize that a bad workout was not the end of the world — a workout is not the race, and I was lucky the bad workout came during a workout rather than the race itself.

Now, I know how to race. It’s not like I’m a completely different person between the race and between my training runs, but I certainly reserve my efforts for the big events. Not only that, but I now know how to pace myself while running. I used to go out way too fast during my runs.

As an inexperienced or non-tactically savvy runner, it’s easy to go out in a long race way too fast. I used to do this all the time. My first mile would sometimes be my fastest mile in a race, and now I’m glad to say my first mile is never my fastest mile during the race.

I recently ran the Cherry Blossom 10 Mile Race, which is an incredibly competitive and usually fast race. This week, however, the run was not as fast for most people due to the conditions, but I took the conditions into account and knew how I wanted to feel at every part of the race. I would not sprint or surge to keep up with someone I thought I was supposed to be with. I ran my own race, and kept my effort and rhythm steady throughout.

Here were my splits throughout the race:

Screenshot from the author

At the start of the race, it is very easy to get carried away. And my first mile split was faster than it probably should have been, but getting off the line, the first minute is usually very chaotic in a crowded road race. You do not want to be stuck in a stampede where you are stuck and have to weave your way through the crowd. Plus, the start carries plenty of adrenaline during the race, and this adrenaline goes away as the race goes on until the end.

The rest of the race was a steady effort that took hills and conditions into account. Again, the slowest split of the race included lots of wind that slowed me down significantly. While others pushed through the wind, I did not. I let a group of five runners pass me and I decided not to go with them.

It was mile 7 at that point, and honestly, I was hurting and needed to keep my effort steady instead of trying to drastically speed up or slow down. I needed to keep enough in the tank for a good finish, and I had no idea whether I was going to pass the five runners again or not. I had to focus on myself, not on what they were doing. They would gap me by five to ten meters, and three of them would speed up significantly and go off into the distance, while two were still within reach.

I just focused on my own race instead of letting myself be dictated by what other people were doing. I wasn’t going to surge or run uncharacteristically. My seventh mile was 5:48, my slowest split of the race. But I had a better eighth-mile just going the same pace. I looked at my watch later when the race was over and the pattern made sense: I was going uphill on mile 7 and downhill on mile 8.

In the last two miles, I’m not sure what happened. I wasn’t feeling much better. My legs were as heavy as they were earlier on in the race. However, my legs just started moving faster. It was as if a switch went off in my head because I realized I was close to the finish and wanted to give it my all at the finish line.

Within 400 meters, I caught two of the people who passed me on mile 7. I motioned for them to come with me and gave them words of encouragement. But I was in my own world and my own race. I was not giving an all-out effort yet, but I sped up to a 5:36 mile. On the last mile, I clicked off the checkpoints in my head.

1400 meters remaining…1200 meters remaining…1000 meters remaining…800 meters remaining.

I didn’t have it in me to do an all-out sprint at that point, but I sped up for the whole mile and closed my last mile in a 5:26. I started sprinting and giving it 100% of my effort once I saw the finish line, and although I wasn’t happy about the time, I realize I did the best I could and did well given the conditions of the race.

Takeaways

I used to dread racing. I used to have so much anxiety I would ask for any excuse to not race and would feel my stomach getting butterflies the whole day. I used to think everyone was going to judge me for having a bad race and I needed to be at the top of my game, all the time, to be able to impress my friends. Teammates and friends might have stopped liking me if I didn’t impress on a given day.

Now, I trust in my training and I trust in my racing instincts. I don’t get nervous before racing and giving everything I can anymore. I am where I’m supposed to be and whatever happens, happens. It’s not that different from what I do every day, only I’m giving more of myself during races and I need to pace myself accordingly throughout the race.

It’s better to race smarter, not harder. You will often see plenty of people sprinting in the first mile or the start of the race — don’t be one of those people because if it’s not a sustainable pace you can keep the whole race, you will have an awful experience.

Learning to finally execute races well means running your own races, knowing when to hold back, and maintaining your effort and being in tune with how you feel. If I learned that sooner, I would have been a much better runner in high school and college. But it’s better to learn these lessons late than never.

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This post was previously published on Ryan Fan’s blog.

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