Last week, I crossed an unexpected goal off my list: Getting
the top female spot on the “Johnny Cake segment” in my neighborhood.
Just what is the Johnny Cake segment, and more importantly,
why was I chasing it?
At the start of the year, I joined Strava, finally convinced
by my cyclist husband to abandon my beloved and long-used RunKeeper. I was
skeptical. What would Strava give me that RunKeeper didn’t? He tried to sell me
on its tracking features, most of which RunKeeper already gave me. He tried to
sell me on the “segments” feature, which ranks you against other Strava users
on designated sections of roads.
I wasn’t convinced of the value of segments. “I only compete
against myself,” I told him at the time.
But I signed up anyway. And,surprise, surprise, my competitive
spirit was awoken soon after I discovered a designated segment – Johnny Cake –
on my go-to running loop.
I didn’t set out for the top spot. When I first ran the
segment on January 14, I logged a 5:56 for the half-mile section. It landed me
firmly in the fifth (of five) spot for women on the segment. I didn’t think much of the ranking – or even
the segment itself – and instead focused on running consistently and just plain
making time for it.
The top spot was 3:53. A full two minutes from my current
time. Two minutes in a half-mile stretch is an eternity.
But soon, I somehow worked myself up to the third-place
spot. I saw steady improvement in my running, and started working Johnny Cake into
more runs. I chipped away at my time, even if it didn’t move me up the
leaderboard.
I moved into second. First
place still felt so far, far out of reach. I chipped away –
Then I got it. On a day that didn’t feel particularly fast
or remarkable, I checked my segment on the Strava app as I cooled down on a
cul-de-sac near my house. 3:52. I had gotten it. I had shaved five more seconds
off my segment time. I DID IT!
Here are six things I learned while Chasing Johnny Cake:
Persistence pays off.
Call it persistence or focus or relentlessness, dedication, consistency, or
plain ol’ competitive stubbornness. I just kept trying. In fact, it took me 40
times to get the top spot. Yes, I ran that same ridiculous half-mile section of
road 40 times since January 14. Quite literally, I had to show up on the
segment. Over and over and over.
Use the right tools.
I don’t actually know how to run “fast.”
I’ve always been told, to run fast, you need to train fast. But other
than just move my feet faster, I wasn’t exactly sure how to do that. So I signed up for a morning track program
through a local running club. It’s organized by a certified coach who gives us
time targets and makes us work – hard! – at the 5 a.m. track session. Run fast
to run fast started to make sense. I found my non-track runs gradually becoming
faster. I learned I could sprint Johnny Cake, just like I did when I needed to on
800s in track workouts. (Just imagine what I could do if I pulled other tools out of the toolbox - like nutrition, hydration, etc.!)
Success is not a
linear process.
Some days I could
knock 10 or 15 second off my segment time. Other days, I ran slower than the
previous run. Sometimes my slower days would last for two or three or four consecutive
runs. It would have been easy to be
discouraged, especially for a person like me who likes to see continued
improvement each time. I reminded myself of how far I had come since that first
January 14 run, and found Strava’s trend line to be particularly motivating on
those slower days.
Know the playing field, and take shortcuts when it makes sense.
Over those 40 runs, and especially as the top spot became within reach, I
studied the road. It had two curves and a couple of very small, rolling hills. I
discovered, as I closed in on the top spot, that I could cut the corners close.
It meant running on the ‘wrong’ side of the road, but if I ran early enough,
traffic wasn’t an issue. I decided I’d go ‘all out’ on the downhill sections,
and push hard for the final uphill that ended the segment. Those small adjustments could have meant the
seconds I needed to grab the top spot.
Shoot for targets you
don’t think you can hit.
Back in
January, I didn’t even consider that the top spot could be within reach. Enough
said.
Chasing Johnny Cake was a new kind of running for me, a new
kind of goal. My running goals have always been tied to mileage. This one focused
on time.
But it wasn’t just about the time. I mean, I’m still not a “fast”
runner, and most of my running friends could easily knock me out of the top
spot on their first try. (Please don’t try, friends.)
Having a time goal meant that I’d have to do more than just show
up, to slog through the miles, to just go through the motions, one foot in
front of the other. I’d need a plan. I’d need to run differently. To think differently.
Who knew a half-mile section of road in my neighborhood could teach me so much.
