Where exactly were you trying to throw that thing?

Today's meet at Carthage was somewhat of a success, despite one incident involving a haphazardly-flying weight toss (let's just say my dodgeball skills have finally come in handy). My leg did not bother me during the mile and I was able to run a 5:08 with laughable effort. I was actually quite surprised at how little my own teammates were willing to work, even after Russ specifically told us not to run 100%. I started out keeping pace behind Jon but started to get antsy halfway throught he race when I noticed that I couldn't even hear my own breathing. I decided that Russ's "95%" would require a little bit more than a jog, so I took off and started passing people: first Jon, then Fife a lap later and eventually Ben, who surprised me by not giving chase. I wound up somewhere around 2nd place before getting passed by someone from another team on the final lap. I was tempted to blow him out of the water but saw Ashenden standing on the side of the track, holding five fingers up in my face and yelling "Nintey-five percent!" I rolled my eyes and let him go. Ash had already run 4:35 in the first heat (the rest of us were in heat 3) while hardly trying.

I really hate using meets like this as "workout" days. It seems like making a joke out of the competition to run intervals before a race, then line up on the track for what was essentially a tempo mile and finish up by heading outside for more intervals. I could tell from their form, breathing, and the cries of their coaches that many (if not all) of our opponents today were giving everything they had, actually trying to run fast. It makes me feel dirty to cross the finish and look at my competitors, bent over trying to catch their breath, and knowing that I could have easily beaten them all if I'd been trying to. Nope, I don't like it at all.

I'm going to have to get used to it though, because I think we're doing it again next week at State Privates. And I did get a decent workout from that pretend-race, as my sore calves can attest to.


Some additional details on the day:

Dave complained about an inability to relax during races (I'm not too worried, he's on pace for a much better season than last year), Tim scratched from the 200 because "the 400 happened," Justin and Brock didn't enjoy the 800 (but lit up their other, shorter events), and OUR throwers managed not to hit any innocent bystanders.

On the women's side, Guppy dominated the mile while making it look easy (probably because it was), Kate V experienced firsthand the horrors of the 600, and "The short freshman girl" seemed to have gotten a sore back from pole vault.

Everyone's back in action one week from now at the same facilities.