athletes and races
Featured Athlete: Nancy Berte
Nancy Berte submitted this story about a local 5k, and is the winner of a $50 gift certificate.
This story is not about a remarkable race - just a local 5k - the 2008 Ravenswood Run. But to me it had meaning - personally because I shared it with my daughter, and athletically, because it marked a turning point in my psyche. (And let's face it, half the battle in sports is mental.) I am 55 and just started back into regularly running when I turned 50. Then I happened into a spin class, and one thing lead to another, and I now own a rocking road bike can't get enough of it. When I started back into these ventures - adventures, really - I lacked a bit of confidence. Doubted that I could accomplish anything much more than finishing a short race with times I wouldn't dare broadcast. I ran a couple of 5k in the past year - the first time since my 20s - with times between 8 and 9 minutes. Nothing to speak of given that the average serious runner's time is more like 6 or 7 minute, and under 5 and 6 minutes at the top end. But for me, a post-middle-aged mom who willingly spent more time on her children in her 30s and 40s than on herself, 8 or 9 minutes a mile was fine . . . for now. Still, that competitive streak kept nagging me. So I entered the Ravenswood 5k, fully expecting to do my usual speed but really hoping I might find myself by chance feeling in that "zone" -- geared up, well rested, no aches anywhere, and plenty of breath. But I didn't. Instead, perhaps unwisely, I went for a 60 mile bike ride the day before, a day with blustery winds of around 20 mph. I came home spent. Then woke up after a fitful night as only a 50-something year old woman can do (something I have mastered) with a sore left hamstring, fatigue and plenty of self-doubt. But my daughter, Nika, had agreed to come with me and I wasn't about to back out. She's a tenacious 24 year old who, along with her 20 year old brother, Raiden, has given me so love and support back that I hardly feel like I have sacrificed for them at all over the years. And on this morning, she definitely turned the tables and became a 'mom' to me. She dragged herself out of bed to came with me even though she is decidedly not a morning person. She held my gear, coaxed me on, and wouldn't let me give in to doubts. I positioned myself with the 7 milers, then edged back a little feeling silly for daring to be there at all. And suddenly the race was on. I went out with a flurry in the faster paced front groups. Immediately I knew I had not replenished my tank from the 60 mile tough ride the day before. I was running on empty. But my daughter was there and I was not about to give in. So I kept up the pace, thinking of some advice I had recently read in Biking magazine - don't ever ask yourself how you feel, just commit to the goal. As Tiger Woods would say, "It's just pain." (subtext - such it up) So I did. At the beginning of the third mile I started crashing. My legs were leaden and I was having trouble lifting them. I simply could not make them go faster. For the first time ever, I wondered if I would be able to finish a measly 5k race. But I stopped worrying about how I felt and focused on one step after the next. Now racers began passing me in droves for the first time. After about 50 passed me I was, well, a bit depressed. Still I plugged on. Just finish, I said to myself disgusted, just finish. I wondered at that moment how I would ever one day run a marathon or a triathlon, even a small one. I managed to complete the 5k and walking just beyond the finish line (see picture) I found my daughter. She was excited and said I did well. I thought, what a sweetheart, trying to make me feel good. But she insisted that she wasn't being nice and that I had done well. Clearly I did not believe her. I figured I had to be over 9 minutes or more. So after settling down for a few minutes, I replenished fluids and then waited for times to come in. Turned out I was under 8 minutes for the first time ever! Now just under 8 minute miles is not a great time by objective standard, and it was the smallest of races, but for me it was great! My daughter was with me to share it and I felt for the first time that maybe I could actually progress (instead of regress with age) with racing. Since then I have pushed myself to bike in the 18-20 mph range and will keep trying to push my time down in the 5k and my speed up in biking. In fact, I signed up for my first Super Sprint this August. Now I just have to learn to swim . . .
Nancy Berte submitted this story about a local 5k, and is the winner of a $50 gift certificate.
This story is not about a remarkable race - just a local 5k - the 2008 Ravenswood Run. But to me it had meaning - personally because I shared it with my daughter, and athletically, because it marked a turning point in my psyche. (And let's face it, half the battle in sports is mental.) I am 55 and just started back into regularly running when I turned 50. Then I happened into a spin class, and one thing lead to another, and I now own a rocking road bike can't get enough of it. When I started back into these ventures - adventures, really - I lacked a bit of confidence. Doubted that I could accomplish anything much more than finishing a short race with times I wouldn't dare broadcast. I ran a couple of 5k in the past year - the first time since my 20s - with times between 8 and 9 minutes. Nothing to speak of given that the average serious runner's time is more like 6 or 7 minute, and under 5 and 6 minutes at the top end. But for me, a post-middle-aged mom who willingly spent more time on her children in her 30s and 40s than on herself, 8 or 9 minutes a mile was fine . . . for now. Still, that competitive streak kept nagging me. So I entered the Ravenswood 5k, fully expecting to do my usual speed but really hoping I might find myself by chance feeling in that "zone" -- geared up, well rested, no aches anywhere, and plenty of breath. But I didn't. Instead, perhaps unwisely, I went for a 60 mile bike ride the day before, a day with blustery winds of around 20 mph. I came home spent. Then woke up after a fitful night as only a 50-something year old woman can do (something I have mastered) with a sore left hamstring, fatigue and plenty of self-doubt. But my daughter, Nika, had agreed to come with me and I wasn't about to back out. She's a tenacious 24 year old who, along with her 20 year old brother, Raiden, has given me so love and support back that I hardly feel like I have sacrificed for them at all over the years. And on this morning, she definitely turned the tables and became a 'mom' to me. She dragged herself out of bed to came with me even though she is decidedly not a morning person. She held my gear, coaxed me on, and wouldn't let me give in to doubts. I positioned myself with the 7 milers, then edged back a little feeling silly for daring to be there at all. And suddenly the race was on. I went out with a flurry in the faster paced front groups. Immediately I knew I had not replenished my tank from the 60 mile tough ride the day before. I was running on empty. But my daughter was there and I was not about to give in. So I kept up the pace, thinking of some advice I had recently read in Biking magazine - don't ever ask yourself how you feel, just commit to the goal. As Tiger Woods would say, "It's just pain." (subtext - such it up) So I did. At the beginning of the third mile I started crashing. My legs were leaden and I was having trouble lifting them. I simply could not make them go faster. For the first time ever, I wondered if I would be able to finish a measly 5k race. But I stopped worrying about how I felt and focused on one step after the next. Now racers began passing me in droves for the first time. After about 50 passed me I was, well, a bit depressed. Still I plugged on. Just finish, I said to myself disgusted, just finish. I wondered at that moment how I would ever one day run a marathon or a triathlon, even a small one. I managed to complete the 5k and walking just beyond the finish line (see picture) I found my daughter. She was excited and said I did well. I thought, what a sweetheart, trying to make me feel good. But she insisted that she wasn't being nice and that I had done well. Clearly I did not believe her. I figured I had to be over 9 minutes or more. So after settling down for a few minutes, I replenished fluids and then waited for times to come in. Turned out I was under 8 minutes for the first time ever! Now just under 8 minute miles is not a great time by objective standard, and it was the smallest of races, but for me it was great! My daughter was with me to share it and I felt for the first time that maybe I could actually progress (instead of regress with age) with racing. Since then I have pushed myself to bike in the 18-20 mph range and will keep trying to push my time down in the 5k and my speed up in biking. In fact, I signed up for my first Super Sprint this August. Now I just have to learn to swim . . .
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