Race Report: Strausseelauf 9.3km-ish X-C race

Really, this barely qualifies as a race, at least as regards my effort and enthusiasm levels. Not to mention there was barely any mud, no sand pit, no swamps, no hot men, no champagne, and exactly 1.5 spectators (a cheering woman with a baby carriage. The baby may or may not have been awake, hence the .5)

Race distance: Officially 9.3 km, up 100m from last year's advertised distance Indeed, my garmin measured 9.36, as opposed to 9.26 last year. As with everything else about this day, I am making my thumbs and forefingers into a W and holding them up in front of me: Whatevs.

Weather: 45F, wind, rain.

Course: mostly on packed-dirt trail around a lake. Rolling hills the whole way, with one larger hill at km 8.

Goal: Run faster than last year's 43:11; the fact that the course is apparently 100m longer this year makes it even more of a challenge. Don't go all-out: Nice solid tempo training for HM purposes.

Race: 1 hour on the S-Bahn, 1 bus ride, and 15 windy, rainy minutes on foot brought me to the start. Underslept and undercaffeinated, the weather and the seeming throngs of pushy, old, officiously German nordic walkers in the registration area did nothing to enthuse me for the upcoming 9.3 km. This week was tiring, physically and emotionally, and I wished I'd stayed in bed.

Because of the train schedule, I showed up an hour before the start, intending to jog around a little to warm up, do some strides, etc. Three rain-pelted minutes of jogging into a freezing headwind later, I pressed the "mission abort" button and headed back indoors to stretch and put on more layers. Clearly, this was a case for armwarmers. I pulled them on, massaged my IT bands and tried not to think about coffee.

This race was overfull last year, given the narrowness of the trails, so there were two starts this year: 10:30 for the men, and 10:45 for the women. I lined up two or three rows behind the drove of 20-something hotshots in briefs and sports bras, who waited oblivious to the obvious danger of frostbite to the buttocks (oh to be so care- and cellulite-free!) Everyone was milling around, chatting and readjusting their leggings, when the gun went off with no warning at 10:42. AAAHH! WTF! The underpants girls, who were apparently paying attention, dash off like underdressed gazelles while the rest of us, our reaction time dulled by age and too many layers, flail and stumble in the general direction of the start line. The first km is uphill, on cobblestones, which are wet. It is raining. Did I mention that? Wet cobblestones are slippery, especially under Saucony Fastwitches. Not recommended.

It was nice that one didn't have to push around and through throngs of joggers at the start - I remember last year at this race, the first km took me over five minutes for that reason! However, the price we paid for this convenience was that the already small-ish pack of women spread out rapidly and after about 2km, I was running completely alone. Sure, my goal was just to get a good workout, but a good workout can be made even better with a little racing-adrenaline-boost, right? Also, there were no spectators. A few cyclists in ponchos waited by the side of the path with stony expressions, their eyes fixed on the damp middle distance, too German to acknowledge the presence of passing strangers participating in some unknown event. I pretended they were performance/installation art and pressed on.

Have you ever tried to pick up a sleeping cat from a spot it really, really doesn't want to leave? You know how they're kind of superheavy and seem elastic, and the more you pull, the more they resist, until eventually you just give up and go sit somewhere else? Well, trying to get my legs to turn over today was like trying to pick up one of those cats. I wanted to hold a tempo pace of 4:35/km but it just wasn't happening. Maybe ti would have if I'd had some company and/or *not* just run a weekly mileage record. Of course the hills and extremely twisty course may have also played a role.

Fine, legs, I said after km 5 (22:57 - not sooo bad, really). Have it your way. Do what you want. Clearly, my needs mean nothing here. Hmph. I pulled my armwarmers over my rapidly whitening, numbing hands, checked out mentally and started pondering some ongoing existential issues while my legs did their leggy thing.

Around km 6 I caught up to the back of the men's pack, which provided at least some fodder for my hunt-em-down instinct. Admittedly most of the guys I passed resembled heavy machinery more than runners, in terms of their build and breathing, but I was grateful for the presence of other people. Far ahead I could see a little pack of fast women and tried to keep them in sight, but they kept disappearing around curves, and frankly, neither my legs nor my apparently easily sated racing instinct could really be arsed.

I wasn't really paying attention, so when I looked at my Garmin and saw 8.7km - i.e. only 600m to go - I was like "dang! Better get moving!" Remember, I actually wanted to beat last year's time, but this fact had slipped my mind during the actual race. Duh. Come on, legs...come on really...there are donuts at the finish line...thaaat's it....good legs! Good! Sprinting! Awesome!

Anyway, now the really unbelievable fact of the day. My legs and my subconscious mind, underachievers that they are, clearly conspired in this matter, because the time on the clock when I sprinted over the finish line was 43:10. Yes: ONE SECOND FASTER than last year.

One freaking second. Srsly, legs? WTF, brain? Obviously, they just shrugged, rolled their eyes and were all "Dude, what? It's totally faster than last year! Quit yer b*tchin and get us a donut."

Time: 43:10, 4:38/km pace.
Placement: was given only by AG. First in W30.
Summary: Yeah....I really could have just slept in, gotten up, and gone for a tempo run in the park down the street. I spent more time on the S-Bahn than running, and frankly, I probably wouldn't do it again. But hey, it's not all bad! another run in the books, and at least it wasn't slower than last year. The race t-shirt is cute. And it made a good excuse to drink some chocolate milk when I got home.