Did Adam Beat The Blerch? 10K Race Day

This past Saturday morning, I ran the Beat the Blerch 10K in Carnation, Washington. I realize this may raise a few questions. "I thought Adam was running... a marathon?" "Wtf is a 'blerch'?" or "Why?" All valid questions.

Firstly, I've decided to add some other races into my marathon training. One thing that's important to understand is the purpose of racing, at least for me. From a local 5K to when I line up for the marathon in December, I'm not racing the other runners on the course; I'm racing myself. Sure, I'll use the times of those around me to see where I rank, and even use that or others on the course as motivation, but my goals on race morning never include my final place. I set my goals based on what I know I'm physically capable of. There will always be someone faster than me, and that's fine. I can't control other runners, and I'm not there to run their race. I'm there to run my race.

The problem is, historically, I've tended to come up short on race day. Each of the half marathons I've completed included some amount of walking. (NOTE: There's nothing wrong with walking in a half marathon. It just wasn't my goal.) Now, life has had an unfortunate habit of dropping things on me with an imminent race looming. Deaths, break ups, moves, lack of sleep, mental health pits, and numerous other excuses have come up in my mind after crossing a finish line. But the fact is, those things will always be there.

Life; with it's twists and turns, mountains and valleys, pitfalls and fortunes, will always roll on. I can tie my shoes and run with it, or I can continue to let it run me over. I've spent far too much of my life, basically most of it until 2024, doing the later. No more.

This brings us to the Blerch. A creation of Matthew Inman, aka The Oatmeal, the Blerch is a conceptual manifestation of sloth, gluttony, self-destruction, and self-loathing. In other words, it's a beast with whom I've been well acquainted in my life. Skipping ahead a bit in the story, after the race I got one of his books, "The Terrible and Wonderful Reasons Why I Run Long Distances," expecting a silly printed version of a cartoon webcomic. Instead I got a heartfelt explanation, via silly cartoons, of why he, and really why a lot of us, do this crazy thing. (Also met him and got said book signed!) To "beat the Blerch" is essentially to make the decision to take control of one's physical, mental, and emotional wellbeing. I don't want to step on his toes, so please, go read his work.

So my Blerch, so to speak, this Saturday, was my history of burning out in races. My ideal goal was to beat my overall 10K PR of 54:48, achieved unintentionally on a much longer run earlier this year. (Training too hard can also lead to race burnout, by the way.) My "silver medal" in my head was to finish in under an hour, something I've never done in a formal race. My bare minimum goal was to not walk and finish faster than I started. I also had done a ten mile long run for my marathon training on Tuesday, but had taken some rest days and my legs felt fairly fresh.

I have had a bad habit of getting to races right when I need to be crossing the starting line. This time was no different. I could have SWORN I saw the 10K started at 9:30, so I arrived with no urgency at 9:00, only to hear them starting the first 10K wave. I jogged over, got my bib on, my bag checked, and crossed the starting line at 9:07, at the very back of the pack. Which meant I spent the first two miles passing all the walkers while trying to outrun the voice saying "see, here we go again.". The crowd actually worked in my favor though, as it helped me keep my pace down early and not press too much too soon, which the anxiety would have almost certainly done otherwise.

By the halfway point, I realized... I felt great. 3 miles in, my legs felt fresh, my breathing was under control, and I was rolling. I was passing people in both directions that were struggling and gasping for air, and I was... cool. Almost suspiciously good, frankly. I ate a gel, because when you know you need it, it's too late, and kept rolling.

I don't usually check my pace while running, as it almost always makes me run faster than I should. So I waited until about mile 5 to look, and I was at about 47:00. Some quick math told me that sub-55:00 was now unlikely, but sub-60:00 was easily in reach. I picked up my pace a bit, but still worried about burning out and held back a bit. It wasn't until the final stretch, maybe 400 meters, that I really let it go. Crowds, photographers, the announcer, and the sight of the finish. line pushed me across the line at a 7:50 pace, the fastest of the run.

57:42. My knee-jerk reaction was frustration at not hitting my personal best. "If there hadn't been people in my way..." "If I'd just gotten the time right..." crossed my mind. But as I came down, I realized what exactly I had just accomplished. I beat my 10K time from earlier this year by 10 minutes. That's in just six months. I ran the whole thing, increasing in speed as it went on. I still felt fresh, I could go do more. Ok, I hadn't paced it to hit my PR. But there was NO doubt I could. Instead of what I should have done, it became what I would do next time.

I finished 66th out of 666, 47th among men, and 10th of 41 among men 30-35. I was in the top 25% within my age group, and top 10% overall. To say I'm happy and impressed with myself is an understatement. I'm proud of what I accomplished on Saturday, and I'm also proud of what it showed me I can accomplish.

So, yes, I beat my Blerch. And I will continue to do so every day. Thank you to The Oatmeal for putting on an incredible event. I'll be back next year.

Beat the Blerch Swag

Post-race Selfie