Race Report: Twin Cities Race Walkers 10K

On September 26, I did a 10K race sponsored by the Twin Cities Race Walkers.  I wanted to see how fast I could walk 10 kilometers, I was using this as a speed workout, as part of my training for marathons.  They had a 5K race and a 10K race.  I opted for the 10K, because I thought it would be better marathon training.

The race was held on the Gateway Trail, starting and finishing in Flicik Park in Maplewood, MN.  Our course was a one kilometer out-and-back loop.  There were orange traffic cones at either end of the loop.  The first turnaround was 400 meters from where we started, so it was difficult to see the cone until from the start.  The other turnaround was 100 meters behind where we started.

Although advertised as either 5K or 10K, you could actually do any number of kilometers you wanted.  One member of the club had to leave early, so he only did one kilometer.

For running, I’ve found that I can predict my 10K time by taking a recent 5K time and multiplying by 2.1.  I saw no reason why that same ratio wouldn’t also be a good predictor for race-walking a 10K race.  In August, I walked a 5K race in 30:43.  Multiplying by 2.1 gives a predicted 10K time of 1:04:30, which works out to an average pace of 10:24 per mile.

It’s worth noting that my recent 5K race was on a track, and I might not be able to walk as fast on pavement.  It’s also worth noting that I’ve had six more weeks to train since then, I had good reason to believe I’m in better shape now.  I mostly wanted to get a rough approximation of how fast I should start.

I launched into a pace that was so fast that I started getting out of breath.  At first, I was leading the race.  Then Jeff surged past me.  That’s when I remembered that he was only doing one lap.  Trying to keep up with Jeff in a one-kilometer race seemed like a bad idea.  I kept up a fast pace, but I allowed myself to fall behind a bit.

It was 400 meters to the first turnaround.  That’s like one lap around a track.  I was on my way back when I felt my watch vibrate.  It does that when it records my time for a mile, but it was much too early for that.  I looked at my watch and saw it giving me a 30 second countdown before going into energy saving mode.  I thought I started my watch when I started walking, but apparently I didn’t.  I was working my tail off to go fast, so it was frustrating that I wasn’t going to know my pace.

At this point I wasn’t too far behind Jeff.  I no longer felt out of breath.  Having caught my second wind, I decided to catch up to Jeff.  For the rest of the first lap, I matched his pace stride for stride.  I asked him to tell me his time when he finished.

As I finished my first lap, I started my watch.  Jeff stopped, but yelled that his time was 6:26.  I couldn’t easily convert that to a pace per mile in my head, so instead I multiplied by 10.  I was on pace to walk 10K in 1:04:20.  That was pretty close to the time I was expecting.

The pace still felt tiring, but it felt more manageable than it did earlier.  I worked hard to sustain my pace in the second kilometer.  When I finished by second lap, my watch read 6:18.  I was pleased with that pace, so I kept up my effort.

We were sharing the trail with bikers and runners.  I made a point of keeping near the right edge of the trail, so I wouldn’t be caught off guard when I heard an approaching biker say, “on your left.”

I was somewhere in the middle of my third lap when my watch recorded my first split.  I had finished one mile since starting my watch.  I walked that mile in 10:05.  That was faster than I expected.  I kept up my effort.

When I finished my third lap, my watch read 12:37.  I had finished three kilometers, but that was my time for two kilometers.  I slowed down in that lap, but only by one second.  Bruce Leasure was both our race-walking judge and our timekeeper.  As I started my fourth lap, he called out my time for three laps.  It was 18:50.  He continued to call out my times each time I completed a lap.  The difference between my watch and my official splits was always 6:12 plus or minus one second.  That meant my first kilometer was actually faster than I thought.

The next time I got a mile split from my watch, it was 9:55.  That really surprised me.  I didn’t think I would ever get my pace under 10 minutes during a 10K race.  That gave me motivation to keep up my effort, but that pace proved to be unsustainable.  None of my other miles were under 10 minutes.

It was around this time that I saw a large group of runners approaching.  There were all wearing maroon.  As they got closer, I realized it was the University of Minnesota cross-country team out for an easy training run.

After another half mile, I finished my fifth lap.  I was beginning to feel ragged, but I was half done now.  I didn’t know if I could keep up the pace, but I was determined to fight for it.

Twice per lap, I had to make a 180 degree turn.  Each time I did that, it slowed me down.  Then I would light a fire under myself to quickly get back into a fast pace.  I used the turns as periodic reminders to make sure I wasn’t slowing down.  As this point in the race, my biggest enemy was complacency.

I often ask myself if my pace feels sustainable.  I’m used to doing marathons.  I’m not used to doing 10K races.  There’s a big difference between what feels sustainable in a marathon and what feels sustainable in a 10K race.  When I was in my 20s, I did lots of 5K and 10K races.  My recollection is that I would feel out of breath after two miles.  After that, I would fight for dear life to hang on.  The pace never felt sustainable.

The next time my watch recorded a split for a mile, it was 10:09.  At first, I was disappointed to have slowed down that much from one mile to the next.  Then I realized something.  My PR for walking 10 kilometers was 1:03:45.  That’s an average pace of 10:17 per mile.  Even though I slowed down, I was still going faster than the pace I would need to set a new PR.  I was more than half done.  It was time to hang on for dear life.  I fought harder to keep from slowing down.

When I was 100 meters away from finishing my seventh lap, I passed one of the other walkers.  It was the second time I lapped him.  As I went by, he said his goal was to keep me from lapping him three times.  With only three laps to go, I knew I wasn’t likely to lap him again, but I took it as a challenge and used it as motivation to dig just a bit deeper.  I didn’t pass him again, but I did pick up my pace.

When I got my next mile split, it was 10:03.  I picked up my pace, yet I was a little disappointed.  I was working so hard that I honestly expected to get my pace back under 10 minutes.  By now, I only had about 1.6 miles to go.  I tried to pour it on, but I couldn’t get any faster.  When I eventually finished another mile, it was 10:05.

In my last lap, I tried again to pick up the pace, but it seemed like I was at my limit.  10K races are hard.  Then I made the turn with 600 meters to go.  The remaining distance was like a lap and a half around a track.  Finally, I found something within myself and made one last surge.

We weren’t all doing the same number of laps.  Even those of us who were doing 10K weren’t all on the same lap.  As we each approached the end of our final lap, we needed to let Bruce know we were finishing, so he could record our times.  After making the final turn, I yelled ahead to Bruce that I was finishing.  I was so fatigued that I almost tripped as I crossed the line.  My time was 1:02:51.  I knew it was going to be a PR, but I was still surprised to beat my old PR by almost a minute.

After the race, I had brunch with Bruce.  During the race, he was making videos of each of us as we went by.  After the race, he was able to show me some of the videos.  He sometimes slowed it down to one frame at a time, so he could show me all the things he noticed about my race-walking mechanics.

A few years ago, I got to a point where I could walk marathons pretty fast, but I was doing it with inefficient mechanics.  This year, I’ve improved my form, but I still have lots of room for improvement.

One thing Bruce showed me should be easy to correct.  The other things he showed me will be more difficult to correct.  It’s one thing to know what you need to do.  It’s another thing entirely to know how to do it.  That’s where I’m at right now.  I have good endurance, but my walking still isn’t as efficient as it could be.  One of the keys to getting faster will be improving my walking form.

Race Statistics

Distance:  10 kilometers

Time:  1:02:51

Average Pace: 6:17 per kilometer (10:07 per mile)

Race Report: 2021 We Walk Marathon

On September 18, I race-walked the We Walk Marathon in Mayer, MN.  This is a race that’s organized for the benefit of walkers, whether they’re race-walkers, fitness walkers, Nordic walkers, or hikers.  I walked this race two years ago, but at the time I had not done any recent race-walk training.  This year, I expected to be much faster.

You aren’t required to walk the whole race.  They also have a run/walk division for runners who alternate between running and walking.  For that matter, you could also run the whole way, but they discourage that by imposing a “speed limit” of 10:18 per mile, which corresponds to a finish time of 4:30.  Anyone who finishes faster than that is given an official time of 4:30 in the results.

I’ve race-walked seven other marathons this year, but I did them all in a span of three weeks.  In most of them, I was holding back, to keep some gas in the tank for the next one.  My fastest of those was 5:15:44, which was an average pace of 12:03 per mile.  My goal for this race was to break 5:15.

In addition to the marathon, there was a 50K race, a half marathon, and a 10K race.  In theory, the 50K and marathon started at 7:00, the half marathon started at 8:00, and the 10K started at 9:00.  In practice, it was a rolling start.  We were each assigned a time to pick up our race packet at Mayer Lutheran High School.  As soon as we had our race packets, we could go outside and start.

Our packet pickup times were staggered, based on our estimated finish times.  The earliest packet pickup time for the 50K was 6:45.  The earliest packet pickup time for the marathon was 7:00.  My packet pickup time was 7:15.

I left home at 6:00, allowing an hour for the drive to Mayer.  I got there a little bit early, which gave me time to shed my warm-ups and make a bathroom stop inside the high school before picking up my race packet.  After pinning on my race number, I got started as quickly as I could.

I don’t know if I was the last walker to start the marathon, but I think I had the latest packet pickup time.  I fully expected all the other walkers to have a head start.  My hope was to catch up to all the other walkers before the end of the race.

The race started in a parking lot on the south side of the school.  The first half mile was a combination of city streets and a paved path through a corner of West Ridge Park.  Next, we got onto the Dakota Rail Trail and started heading west.  The course for the marathon was a double out-and-back.  The vast majority of it was on the Dakota Rail Trail.

For the first minute or two, my legs felt a little bit stiff.  The long drive didn’t help, and the chilly morning air may have made my muscles tighten up.  It was 47 degrees at the start.

I worked hard to loosen up and get into a good rhythm.  By the time I was on the trail, I felt like I was going pretty fast.  I suspected I might be too fast, but I waited to see my split for the first mile.

To break 5:15, I needed to average about 12 minutes per mile.  I was reasonably confident I could sustain a pace as fast as 11:45, but I didn’t want to much faster than that in the first half of the race.  My first mile was 10:59.  I knew that was much too fast, so I told myself to relax a bit.  My second mile was 11:32.  That was better, but I worried that it might still be too fast.  By the third mile, I had slowed into the 11:40s.  I kept going at that pace for the next few miles.

There were four aid stations, and we would pass them each a total of four times.  They didn’t use any paper cups.  They had small bottles of water and slightly larger bottles of fruit juice and Gatorade.  I didn’t want to carry a bottle with me, but I also didn’t want to be wasteful, so I adopted a strategy of skipping most of the aid stations, but drinking as much as I could when I did stop.  I drank a bottle of fruit juice right before the race, so I was able to skip all the aid stations on my first trip out to the turnaround.

I started so far behind the other marathoners that I didn’t see another walker for the first mile.  Early in the second mile, I saw some people in the distance.  It wasn’t until the third mile that I finally caught up to the two walkers ahead of me.  After that, I passed at least a couple more each mile.  Most were walking, but not as fast as I was going.  A few were running, but they weren’t going much faster than the walkers.

The trail took us past a variety of scenery.  Most of the time, we had trees on either side of us.  At times, we passed ponds.  As we got farther from town, we sometimes passed corn fields.  There was a road next to the trail, but it was often hidden by trees.  Even though we were always close to the road, I seldom noticed it.

As I got closer to the turnaround at the west end of the course, I started watching for runners or walkers who were on the way back from the turn.  The first one I saw coming back was a runner.  I was still about three quarters of a mile from the turn, so he had a lead of a mile and a half.  Since he started before me, I assumed he was probably doing the 50K.  Regardless of which race he was doing, I didn’t need to compete with him.

About a minute later, I saw a walker coming back.  She looked like a race-walker.  Since we were going in opposite directions, I couldn’t tell which of us was walking faster.  She also started well before I did, so I assumed she was probably doing the 50K race.  I didn’t know for sure, though.

I was so distracted by the people going the other way that I forgot to notice my pace for the sixth mile.  I would have to wait another mile before I would get another chance to check my pace.

I saw two more runners who reached the turnaround shortly before I did.  On my way back, I was so close to them that I wondered if I would catch them.  I didn’t have to wait long to find out.  They both stopped briefly to adjust their camelbacks.  That’s when I went by them.

Although I was cold in the first few miles, it was warming up quickly.  I took off my gloves and put them in my fanny pack.  Then I started thinking about finally having something to drink.  On the way out, I had an opportunity to scout out the aid stations.  I knew the first one I would pass had only one trash bin, and it was right next to the table.  The one after that had trash bins a distance away in each direction.  I decided to wait until that one before stopping to drink.

There were mile markers going out, but not coming back.  When I saw the “6” sign, I realized I had already gone about 7.1 miles.  My watch vibrates when it records a split, but I never noticed it.  I glanced at my watch.  Sure enough, it read 7.1 miles.  I missed another split.

I knew by now that I was probably speeding up, but I didn’t know how much.  I knew there was another walker still ahead of me, but I didn’t know when she started.  I also didn’t know if she was doing the marathon or the 50K race.  Until I knew which one of us was going faster, I was inclined to pick up my pace a little.

When I saw the “5” sign, I looked at my watch.  I had already failed to notice another split.  That was three in a row.

About halfway through the next mile, I got to the aid station where I had been planning to stop.  By now, I had already walked almost nine miles without drinking anything.  That’s about a third of the race.  I grabbed a bottle of Gatorade from the table and twisted off the cap.  I had come almost to a complete stop while I drank it.  I drank the whole bottle and then tossed it in the trash bin.  I felt bloated, but that was enough fluid to last me for several miles.

I started checking my watch periodically to make sure I wouldn’t miss another split.  My ninth mile took 11:28.  That made me wonder how fast the previous three miles were.  It’s possible my current pace was sustainable, but I felt like I was pushing my luck.

As I neared the end of the mile, I saw an orange cone in the distance.  That was the turnaround point for the 10K race.  Conveniently, that was also roughly 10 miles for me.  Realizing I was almost done with another mile, I made sure I noticed when my watch recorded another split.  That mile took 11:24.  I was speeding up.

I also made a point of noticing my total time for the first 10 miles.  It was just under 1:55.  That meant my average pace for the first 10 miles was 11:30 per mile.  That confirmed that I was also going fast in the three miles where I didn’t notice my splits.  When I downloaded data from my watch after the race, I learned that miles six, seven, and eight took, 11:29, 11:23, and 11:30 respectively.

At the first turnaround, I was on pace for a finish time between 5:02 and 5:03, but I didn’t take that too seriously.  After 10 miles, I was on pace for a time between 5:01 and 5:02.  That made me wonder if it was possible to break five hours today.  Before the race, I didn’t think that was a realistic goal.  Now I was beginning to re-evaluate that.  For the past few miles, I had been pushing the pace a little, because I wanted to compete for the overall win, and there was another fast walker on the course.  Now, I had a second reason to push the pace.

I was conflicted.  Should I continue to push the pace, or should I settle down?  I only had about three miles until the halfway mark.  By then, I would have a better idea how fast the walker ahead of me was going.  If I was only worried about competing, I could afford to hold back a little until I knew where I stood.  If I had any serious thoughts about trying to break five hours, I had to push hard all the way.

I backed off a little in the 11th mile, but only by about 10 seconds.  In the 12th mile, I got back to my previous pace.

With only about a mile until the end of my first out-and-back, I started looking for the runner and walker who were ahead of me.  Soon, I would see them on their way out again.  I saw the runner first.  When he passed me, I had about eight tenths of a mile to go.  That put him about 1.6 miles ahead of me.  He added to his lead, but only by about a tenth of a mile.  He wasn’t going much faster than I was, even though he was running.

When I saw the lead walker, she wasn’t as far ahead of me as before.  At most, her lead was nine tenths of a mile.  Earlier, it had been more than a mile.  Since then, I had gained ground, which means I had a faster average pace.  I still didn’t know if we were doing the same race.  If we were, what mattered is who had the fastest time on the course, not who crossed the finish line first.  I now had reason to believe I was going faster.  I also realized I couldn’t relax too much.

I left the trail and got back onto city streets in Mayer.  Just past West Ridge Park. There’s a small hill.  It’s not much, but it’s the only noticeable hill on the course.  Going over this hill, I noticed some soreness in my legs.  That was a reminder that my fast pace was probably taking a toll on me.

In the last block and a half before returning to the high school, I had to watch my step.  I had noticed earlier that the city is repaving some of the streets.  The curbing is done, but they need to put down one more layer of asphalt.  As a result, there were uneven spots.  It wasn’t a problem if I paid attention, but I couldn’t afford to get careless.

I finished my first out-and-back in 2:30:44.  That was tantalizingly close to a five hour pace.  I had to see if I could speed up a little in the second half.

As I headed out again, I watched my step where the pavement is uneven.  I made a mental note to be really careful when I came back through here with tired legs at the end of the race.

When I recorded my 14 mile split, it was 11:02.  I knew I was speeding up, but I still didn’t expect to go that fast.  If I did a few more miles at that pace, there wouldn’t be any question about whether I was on pace to break five hours.  The only question is whether the pace would break me.

I felt like I was keeping up the same effort, but I slowed to 11:25 in the next mile.  Now I started to wonder what average pace I needed the rest of the way to break five hours.  I was too fatigued to do the math, but 11:25 sounded pretty close.

I made another stop to drink just past 15 miles.  I tried to drink another whole bottle of Gatorade, but it was too much.  I drank as much as I could and then dumped the last few ounces before putting the bottle in the trash bin.  I planned on making my last stop around 21 miles.

I was worried stopping to drink would make this mile slow, so I picked up my effort.  I was rewarded with a split of 11:06 in my 16th mile, in spite of stopping to drink.

It was around this time that I started noticing some discomfort in my fingers.  They were swollen.  This is a symptom I’ve had on rare occasions, but it’s usually associated with overhydration.  I definitely wasn’t overhydrating today.  In the first 15 miles, I stopped to drink only twice.  I’ve talked to other walkers who have had swollen fingers.  It’s apparently much more common for walkers than for runners.  When I walk, I have a fairly vigorous arm motion.  I wonder if fluid gets forced into my fingers by centrifugal force.  For what it’s worth, no other part of either hand was swollen.

If my only goal was to break five hours, I would’ve been more patient here.  I would try to average 11:25 per mile until the turnaround, and then I would push hard coming back.  Psychologically, it’s always easier to pour it on when you’re getting closer to the finish line.  At the moment, I was still getting farther away with each mile.

Breaking five hours wasn’t my only goal.  I was also competing with the walker who was somewhere farther up the trail.  That’s what drove me to continue pushing the pace, even though I still had 10 miles to go.  My next three miles took 11:11, 11:04, and 11:11.

By now, I noticed a walker ahead of me who had a familiar gait.  I recognized her arm motion.  At first, I thought it was the walker I had been chasing, but there’s no way I could have caught up to her this quickly.  I eventually caught up to the walker in front of me.  Then I discovered it was another race-walker I had noticed just as I was finishing my first lap.  She was doing the half marathon.  When I saw her before, she was just getting started.

After passing her, I caught a glimpse of the turnaround cone in the distance.  It was about half a mile away.  I still hadn’t seen either the lead runner or the lead walker.  I expected by now, I would at least see the lead runner.  Looking ahead, I couldn’t see anyone between me and the turnaround cone.  They weren’t ahead of me.  Where were they?

In retrospect, I could see how I could fail to notice the runner.  By now, there were also people on the course who were doing the half marathon, so a runner could blend into the crowd.  Runners all have a similar gait, as do the more casual walkers.  The faster walkers stand out.  What really surprised me is how I could fail to notice the only other walker on the course who was going anywhere near the same speed I was going.  I had to assume she was still somewhere ahead of me.  I had no way of knowing if I was gaining ground on her.

To be on pace for five hours, I needed to reach the turnaround in 3:45.  I got there in less than 3:44.  I now had a cushion of more than a minute.  I put the other walker out of my mind and focused on my own pace.

When I reached the “6” sign, I realized it now meant six miles to go.  I looked at my watch.  To break five hours, I needed to walk the last six miles in 70 minutes.  Now I could do the math.  I needed an average pace of 11:40 the rest of the way.  That sounded much easier than 11:25.

My next mile took 11:16.  I put 24 seconds in the bank.  With five miles to go, I just needed to average 11:45 per mile.

It was during that next mile that I stopped to drink for the last time.  The aid station was in the middle of a clearing in a town called New Germany.  I had noticed a wind that was helping keep me cool, but I was usually sheltered by the trees.  Now that I was out in the open, the wind felt tiring.  Fortunately, I wouldn’t be out in the open for very long.

I once again drank as much of a bottle of Gatorade as I could.  As I resumed walking, I didn’t like how full my stomach was.  Drinking that much, however, meant I wouldn’t have to stop again.

I was really happy when I saw my next split.  Despite stopping to drink, that mile was a few seconds faster than the previous one.  I kept up that pace in the next mile.  Each time, I recomputed the pace I would need the rest of the way to finish in five hours.

When I had three miles to go, I only needed to average 12:14 per mile.  Now I knew breaking five hours was in the bag, but I didn’t let up.  I wasn’t going to set an all-time PR, but this would be the first time I walked a marathon under five hours since 2018.  It’s a major milestone for my training.  Now that I knew I was going to break five, I wanted it to be as fast as possible.  I poured it on the rest of the way.

Halfway through the next mile, I saw another orange cone and a timing mat.  People doing the 50K race had to do an additional out-and-back that was just under two and a half miles each way.  This was the turnaround point for their extra lap.  Seeing that reminded me that I would get one more chance to look for the runner and walker who I missed seeing earlier.  If, as I suspected, they were doing the 50K race, I would eventually see them going out again.

I slowed down by just a few seconds in my 24th mile.  I should probably have been happy that I was still on roughly the same pace, but slowing down at all was no longer acceptable.  I dug deeper.  I walked the 25th mile in 11:00.  Then I started watching for the runner and walker who had been ahead of me for the whole race.

On my first lap, I saw them both before I left the trail.  This time, I didn’t.  I was already back on city streets before I saw anyone going back out.  After another block, I entered the park for the last time.  Then I went up the hill for the last time.  Halfway up the hill, my watch recorded my split for mile 26.  It was 10:56, which was my fastest of the race.  Then I saw the runner.  He was, in fact, doing the 50K race, but he had slowed down since I last saw him.  I gained almost a mile on him.

I never saw the other walker again.  I pressed on and finished in 4:55:58.  I enquired whether any other walkers had finished the marathon.  So far, I was the only one.  I don’t know what happened to that other walker, but it no longer mattered.  Based on her early start time, I’m going to assume she was doing the 50K.  Perhaps she took a break at some point, and I went by without noticing.

They had awards for the first three in each age group.  I was the only race-walker in my age group, so I received my age group award immediately.  I would have to wait until later to find out if I was first overall.  I was.  I even finished faster than all the runners.

After the race, I was surprised by how long I could stand around outside without getting cold.  By the time I finished the race, it had warmed up to 70 degrees.  Only the shade along the trail and the cool breeze kept me from feeling hot.

I eventually went into the school to have some post-race food and beverages.  They had water, fruit juice, and an assortment of snack foods.  Three foods that you don’t usually see after a race were buttered popcorn, cheese, and salami.

By now, I was noticing less swelling in my fingers.  By the end of the day, they were back to normal.  I’ll have to notice that the next time I walk a marathon, but it doesn’t seem to be a major concern.

Race Statistics

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  4:55:58

Average Pace:  11:17

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  441

Minnesota Marathons/Ultras:  84

Marathons/Ultras Walking:  23