It is cold.  Very cold.  And to make matters worse, a strong wind is driving the wind chill well below zero.  I consider returning to my warm bed and scraping my plans to run today’s race.  It will not be enjoyable.  The day will be bitter.

 

However, the race will be a one-time event to commemorate the opening of  an Interstate highway spur to a new Metro station.  It will be run on the new spur before it opens to traffic tomorrow.  It isn’t often a runner has an opportunity for such a unique experience.  And, a one-of-a-kind T-shirt.  So, I get ready, pick up a cup of coffee at McDonald’s and drive to the race site.  When I step from the warm car in the parking lot of the new Metro station, it seems as though the temperature has dropped even lower.  It’s going to be a miserably frigid day.

 

The spur is 3 miles long.  Just right for a 5k race.  I catch the shuttle bus to the starting point.  A mistake.  It wasn’t the last bus.  We are offloaded onto an overpass where the spur begins.  There, we wait, exposed to the freezing elements, for a half hour as the bus makes two more round trips.  Most of us huddle behind concrete barriers along the edge of the roadway to escape the bitterly cold wind in an attempt to avoid frostbite.  It’s a brutal day.

 

Based on my recent training and racing, I have set three goals for the race.  A “floor” goal, or the minimum performance with which I will be satisfied.....sub-21 minutes.  A “realistic” goal, or that which I really think I should be able to achieve.....to break my second best 5k time of 20:28.  And, a “ceiling” goal, or what I might be capable of running if everything goes right and I pop an exceptional race.....a new PR under 20:08.  Now, I wonder if I will be able to achieve any of these goals.  Perhaps I should adjust them to less ambitious levels.  I decide not to.  If I fail to even make the “floor” goal.....well, I can blame it on the elements.  I jog for a few minutes to warm my leg muscles and ease my shivering.   It’s going to be a very difficult race.

 

Finally, the race begins.....15 minutes late.  I hear the one mile time split.  It’s several seconds slower than my planned race pace.  My watch confirms it.  I conclude that a PR is not in the cards today.  But, since my legs have warmed nicely and I feel good, I do have a chance to reach my “realistic” goal.  I concentrate on increasing my pace slightly through the second mile to position myself for a final push at a new second best time.  Maybe it will be an “OK” day, and race, after all.

 

As I approach the two mile point, I’m cruising.  Feeling very good.  I find myself alongside a runner, who I recognize from a race of a few weeks earlier in which he finished first to my second in the 50-59 age bracket.  He recognizes me, also.....and our races are joined.  It’s going to be a tough finish.

 

We push each other over the last mile.  He leads by a stride for awhile.  Then I do.  As we approach the finish line, we start our final kicks simultaneously.  Shoulder to shoulder, we drive for the finish.  And cross the line a stride apart.