RACE REVIEW:FALMOUTH ROAD RACE

"If you want to run fast. You gotta run fast."

~ Steve McKenna

Last Sunday I lined up (safely and wearing a mask) with about 6,000 runners for the 49th Annual Falmouth Road Race.  It is a huge event; well known throughout the running community as one of the top races of the year for a number of reasons including, but not limited to, the amazing location, enthusiastic spectators and solid cash prizes for pro and masters athletes who place.  Clearly, they were not able to have an in-person event in 2020.  That said, I did sign up and run it virtually on my own which gave me a guaranteed entry into the 2021 race.  I've always had this one on my bucket list but have never been able to get in so I was super fired up that I would get to experience it live this summer.  It should be noted that the size of the field was paired down from it's usual 11,000+ and all the necessary Covid precautions were put in place to ensure a safe experience.  Having never done it before, I have nothing to compare it to but even with all the security measures in place, it did not disappoint.  My friend and running partner, Steve, has family down in Falmouth and has been racing it for the last 22 years with various members of his crew.  He has talked it up every summer since I've known him and when he found out that I'd managed to get in he promptly invited me to join in on the McKenna family festivities that take place throughout the weekend. Sign. Me. Up.  About a month before the race I received an email from the pro athlete manager who let me know that I'd been identified as one of the top ten Masters (age 40+) in the field and thus was invited to participate in the elite start so that I'd be in a position to earn the Masters’ prize awards.  Ummm okay??  Obviously I couldn't say no to this but at the same time it made things just a wee bit more intense.  Like, I started getting nervous on the spot and continued to be nervous daily right up until I lined up to take off.  That's a lot of time being nervous.  My coach told me to try and relax.  That "being seeded just makes it easier to run fast without fighting the masses."  So, I did my best to chill out.  And in the meantime I focused on the fact that I'm currently training for Boston and had a lot of other work to do.  And this helped.  A little.  This and having a lot of good friends who also told me to calm down because it was going to be fine.  And then, boom, it was August 14th and time to head down to Falmouth.  Giddy.  Up.  

I got to the expo around 1:00, grabbed my number and my commemorative mug, met up with Steve and geeked out a little bit with some Falmouth-themed photos.  How could I not?  He's a good friend, isn't he?  I spent some time meeting new people and chatting with friends from home who were also in town to race including the ever sweet and sassy Anoush who always looks good in pictures, damn her.

After the expo, Steve and I grabbed some lunch and then went over to the track at Falmouth High School to watch the high school and professional men's and women's mile races.  The temp was probably in the 80s but with the humidity it felt like we were standing in an oven.  The fact that these athletes could turn it on and race their brains out in this weather just totally blows my mind.  A couple hours later, having sweated through my entire outfit, we made our way back to Steve's aunt's house where we would be spending the night.  

My mantra for training these past few weeks has been GET GRITTY so I thought it only appropriate to sport my GRIT top for the race.  I set everything out and then sat my ass down and didn't move for a few hours as I was totally drained from the sun.  As I vegged out the rest of Steve's friends arrived in various groups and by the time I made it back downstairs to be social we had a full house consisting of Steve, his girlfriend Ashton, Frankie, Courtney, Cook, Lauren and Ashleigh (five of his friends from URI) and me.  Steve's parents cooked us dinner, bless them, and we all ate and relaxed before turning in for the evening around 9:30.  Well, okay, I turned in.  The rest of them, all significantly younger than me, stayed up until normal human bedtime.  No idea when that is.  

I woke up around 5:45 to an absolutely gorgeous morning.  The humidity had dropped substantially which was such a gift.  The above photo is the view from Steve's Aunt's backyard.  Stunning.  Mrs. McKenna and Ashton had gotten up earlier and made a Dunkin' run for those of us who were racing.  I mean, just....wow.  I really have no words.  Absolute rock stars.  Both of them.  The rest of the crew started waking up and coming out from all the various crevices of the house and then around 6:30 we all made our way outside to the lawn for the traditional pre-race photo.

After this we hopped on Steve's cousin's boat and headed over to Woods Hole where the race would be starting.  This was also such a treat first because it was ridiculously cool to arrive by boat but also because driving in by car would have been virtually impossible and we would have had to trek pretty far on foot to get to the start if we hadn't had this option.  So, cousin Max, too, is a total rock star.

Now it was around 6:45am and we walked over to the tent to drop bags and hang out until the race began.  There were quite a few professional athletes sitting under the tent and I tried hard to act cool and unphased which I'm one hundred percent sure I failed at.  Story of my life.  I left on my own to get a warmup in at 8:00 and then got back and made some last minute adjustments to my gear before walking over to the line around 8:40.  We got a motivational speech from the great Molly Seidel and a fantastic rendition of the National Anthem and then promptly at 8:50 the elite women were off.

THE RACE

MILES 1-3 (6:11, 6:14, 6:15)

As you can see from the above photo (where you actually can not see me) I was nestled in behind the majority of these women for obvious reasons, the main one being that they would be running miles in the five minute range and I would not.  But, still.  I felt pretty badass just being around them for those first twenty seconds or so.  By the time we got started the temp had risen substantially and the sun was shining at full steam.  Again, the humidity was nowhere near where it had been for the previous two days but it was still pretty damn hot which really was no big surprise.  Summer running at its finest.  Miles one through three on this course are rolling hills.  Nothing too brutal but challenging nonetheless.  In a big race like this it's easy to get caught up in the excitement of everything and start too fast but also dangerous as the hills are an added force to be reckoned with and flying up them can easily bite you in the ass at the end.  I'd decided, based on the advice of my coach, to put a goal time aside and just go for it as the heat and the difficulty of the course made pacing virtually impossible.  Thus, I tried to ride things out by feel and just focused on the women in front of and around me who looked like they were running at a similar effort.  I kept Steve's ever solid advice in the back of my mind as I worked. "If you want to run fast" he often tells me, "you gotta run fast."  I know.  Revolutionary.  I didn't know the above splits until after the race as I really didn't check my watch but this pace was right about where I've been for my workouts so my body went to what it could handle naturally which I was pleased about.

MILES 4 & 5 (6:18, 6:23)

In addition to throwing time out the window, I was also try my damndest to have fun.  This was not hard to do as the crowds on the streets were fantastic; holding out hoses for us to run under, handing out water and waving signs as we went by.  I'm smiling like this in almost every single one of my race photos so mission accomplished on the whole fun thing.  Miles four and five were along the water.  Beautiful.  But totally exposed.  And hot as blazes.  Like "I could feel my skin burning as I ran" hot.  Steve's family was out at mile 5 which was a much needed boost as I was starting to really feel the impact of the heat by then.  As you can see, I consciously pulled it back a little from an effort standpoint as I was worried that I wouldn't be able to hold on until the finish at the pace I'd been going for the first few miles.  My sweet friends Wendy and Ali were right around mile 6 which almost made me cry as I was really hurting by then and just so ridiculously happy to see them.  I high fived both of them and got myself ready for the final hill.   That's right, my friends.  They put a mountain in the middle of mile six which we had to climb before rolling down to the finish.

MILES 6 & 7 (6:21, 6:18))

Okay, so this is one race photo when I wasn't smiling.  For obvious reasons.  Mainly that I was dying.  This hill was no joke.  And as I climbed, I was getting passed left and right by the elite men's field which had taken off ten minutes behind us. I felt like I was the slow car driving in the left lane and there was nothing I could do about it other than move out of their way which was super awkward as I didn't know which side they'd be passing me on.  All the while, I knew the finish was right after this monster so I gave it everything I had as I powered up and over.   After what felt like an hour but was likely about 30 seconds, I was finally on the other side and flying down toward the finish.  And then, praise be, it was over.

Pain, joy, exhaustion, relief.  All of those feelings and more coursed through my body as I walked gingerly through the finish chute.  I immediately downed two bottles of water and still felt like I had sandpaper in my mouth.  I got to the tent and the volunteers were handing out cold towels.  OMG.  Nothing has ever felt better than this.  I grabbed my bag and sat with the towel on my head letting it drip cold water down my entire body.  I took my phone out and read a text from my coach: "Great job. You got second Masters.  No shame in finishing behind a Kenyan woman who crushed the entire field.  Really solid race."  Well, I'll be damned.  I was the second female master and came in behind (ehh hmm, far behind) the great Edna Kiplagat who, at age 41, won the whole freaking race.  I'll happily take that.  I hadn't known what to expect but I did know that I'd been putting in a lot of miles and had some really good workouts over the past few weeks so I was pleased to see all of this was paying off.  Honestly, I'd just set out to run hard and have fun and I'd accomplished both of these goals so I was more than thrilled.  It didn't hurt that I'd spent the last 24 hours with an amazing group of people who I am now pleased to call friends.  That said, I didn't go to URI as this entire crew did so they may have to vote on whether or not they will let me in.  All kidding aside, I'm 46, I'm still grinding and I'm still getting results.  I see no reason to stop any time soon.  Especially when I'm having such a blast doing it.  Up next?  Boston.  Stay tuned!

Listen to this:

Queen of the Silver City by Glassio

Glassio · Queen Of The Silver City

TRUST THE PROCESS

"You see, you've got to feel it in your bones."

~ Radiohead, 'Bones'

Last Monday I did my usual long run.  This one was a 23 miler which is pretty standard for me during a marathon training cycle.  It took me three hours and sixteen minutes.  And every single mile, every single minute, for lack of a better word, sucked.  I logged it in Strava as the absolute worst long run in months.  My legs felt like two anchors, just total dead weight from the first step to the last.  In fact, my whole body felt heavy and stiff and the feeling never subsided despite my constant wishing, hoping and praying that perhaps I just needed one or two more miles to loosen up.  Nope.  Didn't happen.  Think Tin Man pre-Dorothy.  I'm not exaggerating when I say it was borderline torture.  And yes, I finished it.  Because, I'm, um, driven.. ...gritty....stubborn...dumb.  All of the above?  I think I can speak for a lot of us who follow a specific training plan when I say that unless there is an injury that causes us to stop, most of the time we follow the damn plan.  Or, at least, I do.  But, back to the run.  I might have cried a little when it was over.  No, I did.  I cried.  And then I got coffee.  And then I went about my day hoping it was a one off crappy run and that Tuesday would be better.  You can see where this is going, right?  Tuesday was also crap.  Wednesday I had doubles.  You guessed it.  Crap.  I logged them as Sucky and Less Sucky.  By Thursday I expected nothing different nor did I get it.  Another slog fest.  Friday was notably less sucky which I was overly excited about.  But, still.  At this point I was starting to wonder if something was wrong.  There is no question that I run a lot of miles when I'm marathon training.  Some would say too many.  But, I've been doing it for many years and it just works for me.  And this particular week was next level discomfort and misery.  Or, at least, I thought it was.  On Friday I reached out to my coach and expressed my concern.  Below you'll see our full conversation.  Apologies up front as I made no edits to it.  I'm sharing this because I've talked to two other people who are also mid-training cycle and are having a similar experience.  The truth is, if you are runner of any kind and you're training for something substantial you have likely been through it yourself.  It's really, really hard.  Physically and even more so, mentally.  But, as my coach reminded me, training always ebbs and flows.  It's totally normal to have good stretches and bad ones.  This is just how the body copes with all the work.  And if we do everything right it will get us to where we need to be come race day.  In a nutshell, trust the process.  And, maybe keep a training log so you don't forget when it happens again.  Because it will.

FRIDAY, JULY 23rd

Me: This has been such a crappy week. Legs heavy. Zero flow. Every run so much effort. Pace is totally fine. Feeling is just garbage. Trying to remember if this is normal during these heavy training cycles. I know it ebbs and flows. Maybe I always get like this. But I don't remember it being this rough.

Lowell: This is totally normal and expected.  Between the point in the training cycle and the weather going through a bit of a grind it totally normal.

Me: Ok. So just keep grinding out these crappy runs? They're still worth banking even when they suck?

Lowell: Yes and yes.  But you can slow down and they are still productive.

Me: Remind me when it gets better? Kidding. Sort of.

Lowell: Better or easier?  They are not always the same.  It gets better when the weather improves or we have a cut down week.  It gets easier during the taper.

Me: Better. Yes. Easier I know. I can wait on that. So, just relax and don't assume my body is giving up on me. Got it.

Lowell: If you didn't feel like this at all I would say we are not pushing you hard enough.

Me: Yes, yes. You're right. Honestly, I know all this. But for some reason this dip feels more intense than usual. I don't feel tired. My legs just feel like shit. Heavy and useless. Like they've never run before. Every run is so much work.  And for the month or so leading up to this week every run was amazing. Like I was floating. So this is hard.

Lowell: I found an email from two years ago and this is what you said:

"...they're tired and heavy.  My a.m. run kind of sucked.  

I had so much zip last week.  

This week I feel like I'm running in mud."

Me: Omg. Ok. I'm done. Thank you.

Lowell: You got it!

Today, a mere seven days after my week from hell, I got up and prepped myself for yet another long run.  I'm not gonna lie, I was dreading it.  And it sucks to dread something you usually love to do.  But off I went anyway.  This one was just 14 miles.  It took me a little under two hours.  Every single mile, every single minute was truly awesome.  I felt like I was floating and could have run for days.  Trust the process.  Yes.  Message received.

Listen to this:

Working All The Time by Xenia Rubinos

Xenia Rubinos · Working All The Time

BUT MAYBE: A 5K STORY

"Age is weird...I sometimes wonder what I would say if I woke up with amnesia and had to go for a run and guess my age.  I don't think I'd say 32.  But, I'm learning to ask..why?  I feel strong and fast.  And if there's one thing I know as an athlete, it's to trust my body, stop the mechanical calculations and get TF out of my own way."
~ Kate Grace, @fastkate

My last 5k was back in December of 2019.  It was a small, local race that I did with my daughter.  If I'm being honest, the course was likely a little short and while I ran a decent time, it didn't truly feel legit.  So, if I take that one out of the equation, my "actual" last 5K, which also happened to be my fastest to date in my post-collegiate run life, was the Winter Classic back in December of 2017.  I finished in 18:59, just barely hitting the sub-19 goal I'd been aiming at for many years.  I remember the shock I felt when I received the text with my time, one that I'd thought was likely out of reach for me in my 40s.  I also remember the mocha I got at Flour Cafe with my girlfriends after the race.  Oh my Lordy, that was a good one.  But, I digress.  Since that race, my focus as far as training goes has been the marathon.  I've finished eight of them between now and then.  When Covid hit and there were no longer any races to sign up for I shifted my focus to ultras and managed to get four of those in, two 50ks and two 50 milers, between May and December.  Basically, throughout that year, anything shorter than 26.2 miles was not on the front burner of my brain.  Then when 2021 began, I found myself a little burnt out from the nonstop high mileage and decided I would shift my focus back to the "shorter" stuff; primarily halves and fulls.  I competed in my first in-person race, the Shamrock Half, in March of 2021 and I had a freaking blast.  Between lining up with other people again and then racing with a purpose as opposed to just doing it virtually and "for fun", it far exceeded expectations and I could not wait to do it again.  I ran the Cheap Marathon in April and then the New Boston half in May and like the Shamrock, I loved every second of both of them.  And now, well, I guess you could say I'm riding high on the race train and I don't really want to get off.  I'm also really enjoying running in a way that I haven't in quite some time and I'm feeling stronger than I have in years so I'd like to see what I can do with it.  My next marathon will be Boston in October and I don't really have anything else lined up in the near future.  Enter the 5K.  It's not my favorite distance.  It's wicked short and it hurts.  A lot.  And I never really know how to run it because in training for longer races, when I run 3.1 miles I often find myself holding back when I should be going or pushing too hard at the start and dying.  At the same time, I've had a little voice in the back of my head wondering what I could do in the 5K at this stage in the game for a while now and I've been itching to give it a shot despite my fear of the distance.  So, at the end of May I reached out to my coach and asked if we could throw a 5K into our schedule, a kick off to Boston training perhaps and something "fun" and different.  His response?  Yep, pick a real one if you can find it or we'll go virtual if needed but let's let it rip and see what you can do in a short effort.  Game on.  

This is me trying to convince McKenna that he can easily handle a sub-19 5k. 

This is him letting me know that he is not so sure he actually wants to try.

If you've been reading this blog for a while you know that I have a dear friend named Steve McKenna who coaches with me over in Lexington.  He also happens to be a very good runner and is often kind enough and, okay fine, more often bribed, to pace me in workouts and races in exchange for drinks at Peet's Coffee.  As far as pacing goes, he's about as steady as it comes and when I settle in behind him I'm able to zone out and just focus on his steps instead of stressing about my time.  Yes, I'm very lucky.  Naturally, I asked him to pace me for this 5K effort and because he is such a rock star he agreed to help me out despite the fact that he has done little work at my goal pace of 6 min/mile recently.  I'll give you the best I've got he told me, which is all I could ask of him and more than enough as any help in this situation would be better than none.

This is me worried about the humidity.

I tried to find an in person 5K in my area around the time that I wanted to get this done but I didn't have any luck so I decided to just go for it on my own.  We landed on Saturday, June 12th first thing in the morning over at the Lexington track.  Yes, the track.  Gulp.  On game day it was cloudy which was good but also a little humid which had me a little nervous.  There was no going back, though.  McKenna was ready to go and I honestly didn't have a lot of other weekend days to make it happen because of coaching and family commitments, so it was now or never.  I got to the track around 7:45am and started warming up on my own as I like to get more miles in pre-race than McKenna does.  

This is me trying to relax.  

Okay, so at this point I was really nervous.  Clearly it didn't matter that this was a solo time trial.  I hadn't pushed this hard in a long time and I honestly didn't know what to expect.  The unknown is a dark, scary place.  Lucky for me McKenna was cool as a cucumber and totally convinced that we were going to be able to pull this off.  Or, at least that was what he told me at the time.  Later he'd tell me that he, too, was a little nervous about his pacing duties but he showed none of this as we got ready to go.  We figured out where the 5k started on the track, did a few strides and before I could change my mind, we were off.  Again, my goal was to run just under 19 minutes which is right around 6 min pace per mile.  As expected, he settled right into this goal pace and I just tucked in behind him and tried not to focus on the fact that I was going to have to hold said pace for 12+ laps.  The beauty of doing this with McKenna was that I didn't have to look at my watch.  I'd made a conscious decision that I would not check it and would let him do the work.  In some ways this made me anxious as I like to know my pace during races and be in control of it.  In others, it was a relief as I could take the guess work out and just ride the pain train.  Which is what I did.  Lap after lap I just focused on my music or McKenna's feet or the other people on the track, basically anything I could to distract myself.  At 2.1 miles, McKenna hopped out of lane one and sent me off solo.  He wasn't sure he could hold pace for the final mile and didn't want to take any risks.  My immediate reaction was, NOOOOOO!!!!  But I heard him tell me to just stay focused and keep going so I did my best to dig in and hold on for those final 4 laps.  With one lap to go, McKenna jumped back in and pulled me through to the finish.  Final time - 18:27.  EFF YES.  Pardon my French but I was totally floored.  That is 6 seconds off my college PR.  And I am 46 years old.  Hot damn.  I did it.  

This is me freaking out.

I didn't write this post up to brag about myself.  And I'm sorry if that's how it sounds.  But, the truth is this.  As we get older, we start to doubt our ability as athletes.  I grind and grind and grind.  Day after day, race after race.  And I rarely see much improvement, if any.  Naturally, I often wonder if my ability to get faster, stronger, better in any way, is behind me.  And yet, there is a little voice inside of me that constantly whispers, BUT MAYBE.  Sometimes I think I want to be done pushing at this level.  The work is hard.  It takes so much freaking time.  And life is busy.  But then something like this happens.  A later in life breakthrough, if you will.  A small and incredibly satisfying taste.  And that is all I need to convince myself that there is still more fuel to my fire and that it's worth continuing to do the work for these very moments, even if they are few and far between.  Perhaps it will never happen again.  And that's okay.  But it doesn't mean I'm done trying.  Far from it.  Come at me, age.  My dukes are up.

Listen to this:

Ring Master - Molly Millington

Molly Millington · Ring Master

BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS

"The strength of the team is each individual member.  

The strength of each member is the team."

~ Phil Jackson

It's 5:30am and, as usual, I'm enjoying my first cup.  I'm nothing if not predictable.  Outside it's dark and grey and the rain is steady.  It's a perfect day to curl up with a book or do a movie marathon from bed.  Ha.  Or not.  A little before 7:00 I head out to pick up McKenna and the two of us make our way over to Lexington High School.  He doesn't drink coffee.  I know.  But we do make a stop at Dunkin' for his traditional pre-meet donut.  We pull into the school lot and see our athletes slowly trickling out of their cars, trying to stay awake or just to wake up in the first place as they walk over to load the bus.  We have about forty five kids; runners, jumpers, hurdlers and throwers who will be lining up together for the MSTCA Division One Relays which starts with the boys events at 9:00am.  This is our first big meet of the season.  A season that has been different and more challenging than any other outdoor track season we've ever had.  We are nervous, excited and everything in between.  All of us.  And it's going to rain all, damn, day.  Obviously.

The bus is quiet, many of the athletes dozing off on our way over to Peabody.  The calm before the storm, if you will.  Pun intended.  We get to Peabody High School and set up our tent over by the track.  Thankfully it's big enough for all of us as, unless we're coaching or competing, we'll be parked there for the foreseeable future.  James, the boys coach, and I go over to the registration tent and join the rest of the coaches for a pre-meet information session.  Coach Mike Miller of Weymouth goes over all the details and understandably reminds us that, between Covid and the weather, among other things, this event was a bear to coordinate and to please take a minute to acknowledge and thank those who are both on and behind the scenes making it happen.  Noted.  Ashleigh, our hurdles coach, texts the Lex coaching staff to let us know that she is going on a coffee run.  Sweet Lord above, sign me up.  It's now 8:30.  I am wearing every layer of clothing that I brought.  I'm soaked.  The tent is wet on on the inside and out.  The boys are getting ready to race.  The girls are curled up in blankets trying to stay warm and maybe get a little more sleep as their events don't start until 1:00pm.  It's a labor of love, this sport.  We love it.  But, right now we hate it a little bit, too.  Finally, around 12:00, the girls get moving and work to get in the race mindset.  My 4 x 1600m team, Lauren, Uma, Clara and Mirra, will be the first Lexington team on the line.  After quite possibly the longest morning ever, they are fired up and ready to rock.  Honestly, I don't how they do it, but they do.  By the time they are warmed up, warm being a relative term here, and over by the start, all four of them have their game faces on.  The wind has picked up and the rain is coming down even harder.  Doesn't matter.  It's time.  Let's freaking go.  The gun goes off and Lauren takes a spot with the lead pack.  She is smooth and controlled.  Almost gliding.  And, the best part?  She is smiling.  No joke.  She's wearing an ear to ear grin as she tics off each lap.  And it never fades.  She runs a blazing fast leg and passes her baton off to Uma, still smiling as she steps off the track.  Uma goes out crazy fast and continues to grind it out, running with everything she's got and then some.  Up next, Clara, who starts out in second and within three laps of her leg takes the lead, crushing her last lap.  She finishes handily in first with Mirra the last to finish things off.  And that she does.  She literally flies off the line and never stops.  She's by herself.  Doesn't matter.  She's running like there is a fire behind her.  Nothing is stopping this kid.  She's working harder than I have ever seen her work.  It is truly incredible to watch.  And then, it's over, and the girls have won.  No one expected it.  No one knew what to expect, to be honest.  So the surprise of the win is that much sweeter because of this.  Pure joy.  And things are just getting started.

The LHS ladies work their way through multiple events including the shuttle hurdles (6th place), the Sprint Medley (9th place), High Jump (2nd place), Long Jump (5th place), Shot Put (6th place), Discus (2nd place), and Javelin (3rd place).  The field events squad is bringing it and then some.  I'm not able to see them do their thing as they are off to the side of the track but they are crushing it handily and scoring points steadily for the Lex team.  The weather is equally bad if not worse as the day goes on.  At one point, the tents over at the timing system are ripped out of the ground by the wind and flipped over.  It's total madness.  And yet, we're still out here doing the thing.  Finally, we're are closing in on the last event of the day.  The girls 4 x 400m.  I've had four, maybe five coffees.  I've borrowed additional layers of clothing from my athletes.  I'm shaking with the chills and frozen to the core.  We all are.  Mind you, it's around 4:00pm and the girls in the 4 x 4, Mari, Catherine, Aylin and Aleia, have been here since 8:00am.  The fact that they are able to get up and motivated to race after the day they've had is mind blowing.  Not surprising, given this group of incredible women, but still.  Mind blowing.  At the same time, this is it.  They didn't sit here all day to half-ass anything.  They're full speed ahead.  I can see it in their faces as they stand by the start.  They're ready to make things happen.  I have the chills before they even step on the line.  Literally and figuratively.  The gun goes off and Mari shoots out like a cannon.  I'm standing at the 200 on the track and I see her flying down the straightaway.  Her look of determination is fierce.  There is absolutely zero doubt in my mind.  She's winning this leg.  She passes off to Catherine.  Same thing.  Grit, determination; nothing is getting in this girl's way.  Next up Aylin.  She finds a new gear today, running like I've never seen her run.  There is no fear.  All fight.  And finally, Aleia.  Beast mode.  She's comfortably in the lead at this point.   Doesn't matter.  She's running like someone is right on her shoulder.  And she will not be beat.  She floats down the final stretch straight into the arms of her teammates.  To say they killed it is the understatement of the year.  In the cold, wind and rain, or perhaps despite it, they lit up the track.  

The heart of this Lexington girls track and field team, a group of almost 60 amazing women, is huge and beats loud.  Louder than in years past.  I've been coaching at Lex for 10 years.  I'm seeing something different here.  A joy and passion that's bigger than ever before.  Maybe it's because we were forced to shut down our spring season last year due to Covid.  Maybe it's because this school year has been harder than ever before.  Maybe it's simply because these ladies love what they do and love doing it for and with each other.  Most likely it's all of this.  Whatever it is, I am proud and honored to be a part of it as their coach.  Everything they feel, I feel it to.  Everything they want, I want it more.  When they step on the line to run, jump or throw, I step on the line with them.  They're all in.  I'm all in.  We're all in together.  Day in and day out.  Blood, sweat and tears.  LEX GO.

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Listen to this:

Electric by Katy Perry

KatyPerry · Electric