BANG. The gun goes off. Fifteen people stuggling for position; bumping elbows, breathing down each other's necks, trying not to step on the heels of the runners in front. That's the moment you feel comfortable with the pace, nobody wanting to go out too fast in case of the dreaded EBS [Early Burnout Syndrome]. Going through 200m you hear the enthusiastic volunteer calling out "29, 30, 31". Now you're thinking, "Crap, am I going out too fast? What's the distance of this race again? Oh well, keep running." Through a quarter mile you've got your head back in the game, you remember it's a 1500m run and you've adjusted accordingly. Drafting whoever you can around the next few turns, your strides feel smooth but the pace picks up, causing an increase in turnover. Rounding with one lap to go, sprinting seems like the natural thing to do but the body tells you to keep some level of push for the back stretch. It's okay, it's just like your workout last saturday when you ran those 400s; keep it relaxed, but quick. You're givin' 'er now, 200 meters, 100 meters, 50 meters.. SWOOSH. You've hit the finish line with a thrust of the head hoping that it'll somehow give you a big pb.
This is what we all go out to the meets for. The adrenaline rush that's distowed upon you 5 minutes before the race, the effort put forth during the hardest part that shows everyone you mean business, and the agression let out at the end, maybe even with a raise of the arms if you've won. If you're anything like me, you don't wanna talk to people after a run; you just want your God damn chocolate milk. I hate talking in warm up runs and during a workout, so if you have a question, you better hope my workout went well so I'm in a good mood when you talk to me. But I digress. I know I can speak for Adrien and myself when I say that we're stoked for this track season.