Crazy 8s
“The world’s fastest 8k.”
My friends have been talking about this race ever since I moved to Abingdon in 2016. (Well, maybe I first heard about it in 2017, since I moved here in August and the race is in July…). A super crowded night race…30+ minutes away? No thanks. I kept saying no for years, there was just nothing about the race that sounded appealing to me.
But this year, I started considering it. As usual, many of my run club friends were running it. But I also heard some of my middle school track students were running it. And several of my clients were running it, including 2 of the ladies in my 5k training group, who decided to sign up for this 8k before even running the 5k we were training for. To top it off, I’ve now lived here for 8 years, so wouldn’t that be the perfect year to run this Crazy 8 race? As an added bonus, we didn’t have the kids on the weekend of the race, so Coby could come too. I hemmed and hawed for weeks, but eventually signed up.
On race day, we made plans to carpool with a friend, but he had to be there to volunteer at 5, which meant we also needed to be there at 5, even though the race wasn’t until 9. Coby and I wandered around the mostly empty mall waiting for him to finish volunteering so we could all get dinner. We didn’t end up eating until 7. Standing on the starting line at 8:45, I could still feel that chicken lo mein sitting in my stomach, and I was worried about potential bathroom issues during the race. I hadn’t really warmed up; I was too busy socializing, but I figured I would just use the first mile as my warm up. Ease into the speed and hope my stomach didn’t revolt.
Pre-race with the ladies from my 5k training group.
After what seemed like forever (starting lines always feel like an eternity…they get you all lined up and then just keep you waiting..forever…) the horn finally sounded and we were off. People everywhere. Weaving in and out, some looking, some not. I hate being crowded in like that, tripping hazards and elbows everywhere. I needed to get out of the stampede. I took every opening that presented itself to me, narrowly avoiding being tripped a few times. I think I spent the whole first mile just trying to find my own space. We passed a time clock at the first mile and it read 8:??. The two teenage boys in front of me freaked out that they were running too slow and immediately sped up. I knew for sure I was running much closer to 7:00, that clock had clearly started when the elites started ahead of us mortals. I held my pace. The 7:00 pacer was within sight ahead of me. Every now and then I would get a little closer to him, only to fall back again. I wished I couldn’t see him, I hate knowing my pace while I’m racing. I race much better by feel, without any evidence of what my actual pace may be. I kept hearing people cheer for a Laura behind me, and I wondered if it was the Laura I knew. She and I go back and forth in races all the time. Some races I have beat her by minutes, other she has beat me by minutes. It generally depends on who has had a healthier build up to race day.
The humidity was absolutely disgusting. The temperature was comfortable (it was probably in the 80s, but I had been training in the 90s for weeks), but the humidity was oppressive. I have no idea how I was able to pull enough oxygen out of the air to run as hard as I was. In the last half mile or so, I caught sight of a fellow cross country coach and was motivated to push a little harder. I didn’t have much left in the tank, but I knew I was on a downhill to the finish and it was time to give it everything I had left. It was full dark by now, and most of my focus had to be on the ground in front of me so I wouldn’t trip on the uneven pavement. There was a short incline to get into the stadium where the finish line was, and I finally paced the 7:00 pacer on that incline. Then he went full send on the finish line sprint and left me in the dust.
I made an effort to smile on the finish line, and not stop my watch until afterwards, so that maybe I could have one finish line photo where I don’t look like death and I’m not in the act of stopping my watch. Unfortunately, one photographer caught me before the finish line, and then after the smile left my face, and there was another runner blocking me from the other photographer…but there are glimpses of that smile in 2 of the 3 photos. The third photo is just me gasping for air.
My finish time was 34:30 for 5.05 miles. 6:50 average pace. So much for not being able to catch the 7:00 pacer for the whole race…he was apparently ahead of pace! I honestly did not believe I could run sub 7 for 5 miles right now, I barely managed a 6:54 in my last 5k! (But now that I’ve thought about it…that 5k was on gravel and gravel vs pavement is a huge difference!) Also, I am 100% crediting the track workouts I did in 90 degrees this summer for my current ability to race this fast. Hard work pays off.
Coby got a video of my finish line sprint, here’s a screenshot from right before I crossed the line.
Since this is such a big race with the local crowd plus it’s the National 8k Road Championship for men and women, I didn’t think a 6:50 pace would put me anywhere near the trophies. But I checked the race results on a whim, and discovered that I came in 3rd place in my age group!
The only other group photo I managed to get, with two of my clients, who ran together and crushed it!
Did I fall in love with this race? No. Will I be back? Probably. Mainly because the incredible flatness of the course makes it a great place to find out exactly how fast I can run. And I do love being able to run fast! And, ok, the atmosphere of the race is fantastic. People cheering along a lot of the course, and everybody loves this race. But I’m really not a fan of the post-dinner race…or the humidity. At all.
