Running for the Feel of It

Another day, another 10K.  Really seems to feel like 10K's are all I've been running recently, but that's OK. Except they keep getting colder!

 Today, I lined up for a Christmas Cash dash.  All was going well until I got to the start and my Garmin signaled "low battery."  "Well," I thought, "this has happened before, so it should last me through the race."

Then, the race director yelled, "Ready, Set, Go!" (yes, it was a small race) and we were off.  And, so was my Garmin.  As soon as I pressed "start," it went blank.

I haven't run a race without my Garmin for years. Training runs sometimes, but never a race.  And, one of the main reasons I like to use it is because it stops me from going out to fast and tanking later in the run. (Although, really, left to my own devices, I can find many a reason to tank later in the race with or without a Garmin.)

I tried to be positive and thought I would just run by feel.

That lasted for about a quarter mile when I started second guessing everything. Since I had been pacing with a gentleman next to me, I thought I'd ask him how fast we were going.

"No idea," he said. "But it feels slow today."  (Thanks, bud, for the confidence booster.)

"Well, what's your usual pace?" I asked.

"Depends," he said as he took off and left me in his dust.

About another quarter mile later, I was pacing with another younger female so I asked her.

Her response?  "I'm just trying to stay upright.  I have no clue."

What?  Was no one wearing a watch?  I resisted the impulse to take out my phone and longingly watch it as my feet pounded the pavement.

I realized how much attention I lavish on my Garmin during a race as I began to feel unusually restless.  I didn't even have music to distract me because it was an open course--meaning we dodged cars as we ran the course.  And, of course every time I had to get myself out from the trajectory of a car, my lack of a timing device came back to haunt me again.

My inner voice tormented me with a torrent of conflicting thoughts.  "I bet I'm running way off course, so that's going to add to my time.  If I knew my time. But I don't.  Because my Garmin died.  I think I'm running really well. As a matter of fact, maybe I'll PR.  Wouldn't it be funny if I just ran faster than ever?  Hmmph. Hardly. This is probably one of those times where you think you're running really well but you're probably slower than ever." And so on.

Luckily, around mile 2, the woman trying to stay upright told me she figured she was around a 10 minute pace.

That made me happy.  For about two minutes until those inner demon voices reminded me that "around 10 minutes" could mean just about anything.

Finally, I settled in even though the course was hilly and--because of that--my asthma kicked in a bit.  I didn't PR, but I still came in at an acceptable time. And, I learned that I'm a little bit neurotic about my Garmin.

Recently, a friend told me she never runs races with her Garmin because it puts too much pressure on her. Although I admire that perspective, I think mine keeps me pleasantly preoccupied and on task so I don't think I"ll go running for the feel of it again any time soon.

What about you?  Does the thought of running without your Garmin (or other timing device) cause you stress or nirvana?

Catch you later at the back of the pack (and you can bet I'll have a functioning watch.)