Exercise in Futility

Also known as: The Mile

Location: Grand Valley State

And what a futile exercise it was.

Motivated by the success of Hobbs Kessler, a frequent training partner of mine and the Ann Arbor-based high school senior who took the US by storm overnight when he shattered the 4-minute barrier en route to a new high school indoor national record of 3:57.66, I decided to test my fitness over a mile as well. Past efforts have yielded mixed results — and I have never run a time of which I believe I am capable. But surely with a training partner producing such an impressive result this time would be different, right? Sub 4:05, here I come? Ha, you thought.

Negative COVID PCR test result in hand, I made a solo trek up to GVSU on a Friday afternoon. Standard pre-race routine. Check-in. Warmup. Strides. I did NOT feel good; in fact, I was sleepy. But I’ve had similar experiences before races that would become PRs, so worry was noticeably absent at this point. It was the first time in recent memory I wasn’t jittery at the start-line, butterflies dancing in my stomach, but this was partially by design. A mentor of mine had impelled me to “not give a shit” about the race, and I was hard at work instilling the notion as dogma. But in what is perhaps thematic in my life, I probably should have added moderation to the mix. Because when race fatigue sets, it is exponentially more difficult to buckle up and embrace the grind when you don’t give a shit. And today, I was more than happy to jump ship when it came for me. I watched passively as the fruits of a solid first 600m over-ripened, and quickly became rotten. I found myself near the back of the field at 1200m, and knew that I would be unable to produce the result I had hoped for when the day began. I crossed the finish line at 4:13.99 and, in classic MB fashion, collapsed on the turf.

I immediately felt sorry for myself. Immediately. Frustrated, dejected, you name it. I had driven all this way to run like THIS? Come on, man. But there’s nothing like a supportive text from a friend to help you pick yourself back up: “It is pretty incredible how bad you are at the mile. Have you thought about, like, running faster?” What a revelation. But it made me laugh, and got me back on my feet. And sometimes that’s all you need. So even though the goals of the day were not met, it was a worthwhile experience and another useful data point in the grand scheme of training. Plus, I managed to pace the first 500m of the 800m later in 65-66s. Gotta stay focused on the main objective. I’ll be ready to rip an 800m in a few weeks.