#miramesahighschool

[lisakayy-blog1]

My son just started 11th grade today. Where has the time gone... #miramesahighschool #Lularoelisakay #miramesa (at Mira Mesa, San Diego)

[eroolifestyle]

Algebra 2 #studyguide #studynotes Are you ready for finals? #AP or #SAT? Stay updated with #tutortip -we will be putting up our favorite #mathreminders over the course if the next few weeks! Tag a friend who could use our study guides! #MathSuperstar #mathsecrets #mathematics #algebra #geometry #trigonometry #precalculus #Calculus #sdtutor #education #tutortip #exctutoringsd #miramesahighschool #canyoncrestacademy #delnortehighschool #ranchobernardohighschool #universityhighschool #powayunified #sandiegounified #teacher2teacher #testpreptutor

[agd1996]

One Mile Run Boy: Episode I

If anyone wants to know what its like to run (almost) a full mile (or any other event for that matter) at the fullest effort of the human body, then start following these posts.

Important vocabulary for ye uneducated readers or runners:

1600m = just under one mile. 400m = one lap (1/4 mile). 800m = two laps (basically 1/2 mile). 3200m = two miles. 

Kick = when a runner, near the end of his or her race (and their mental rope), finds a diamond of willpower and pulls it out of the dark depths of their mind, out their butthole and finishes a race. Basically, they run really fast until the race is over.

Cathedral High came to Mira Mesa this past Thursday to compete in a scrimmage, non-scoring meet. I begged my Coach to not put me in the 800m, and thank the Lord he didn't. He put me in my favorite event, the 1600m and then my second-least favorite event, the 3200m.

[However, if I had to choose between two evils (the 800m and the 3200m), I would choose running eight boring, mentally-stretching laps at an okay pace than running two laps of blistering Hell any day of the year]

So, anyways, yes, I love the mile. The mile is the best event other than the 400m and the 110m hurdles. Not as boring as the two mile, not as blistering as the 800m, but still fast. The mile is standard operating procedure for the typical track-distance runner.

It was all pretty chill before the race. Extra time to warm up, chill out and do stuff. There was an impressive JV 1600m race ran by Corbin Froreich (10), Kevin Tran (12) and Stefen Rasmuson (9) in 5:09, 5:10, and 5:11 (respectively).

Alex Tung (12), Phillip Dorado (11), Ethan Chong (12), Ivann Agapito (11), Sean Cahill10) and I were all gonna run the 1600m against Raymond Boffman (12), Joaquin Martinez de Pinillos (9), Hank Tadeusiak (10), and Connor Marmion (12). Raymond was their fastest miler and 400m runner. Joaquin got #3 in CIF Cross Country San Diego (keep in mind he's a freshman). Hank ran a 4:47 the previous season (just around my time), and Connor had a better 800m than me, but I had the better mile. 

We all settle in on the waterfall start, with me next to Raymond, who towers over me by at least half a foot (I'm 5'8", so he was at least 6'2"). Bam, gun goes off, and so does Raymond, Hank and Joaquin, and they go off hard. Phillip runs ballsy, so he goes hard with them and I trail right behind him with Alex on my back. They're in the position to sweep the 1600, and it was up to Phillip, Alex and I to prevent that from happening. 

First lap, 66 seconds, or a 4:24 mile pace. It felt okay, but the weariness was gonna settle in any second after the first quarter-mile. The trio of Mira Mesa runners surge, led by Phillip, up to Hank, who surges in response and keeps in between Phillip and I. At the 600m mark, the fatigue lightly taps my mind, but I resist.

Second lap split at 2:17 (1:11), at a 4:34 mile pace. As the third laps starts, the fatigue breaks through and I slow down immensely after surging ahead of Hank, who subsequently surges again with Alex on his back. I'm alone from the 900m mark on until the next lap. At the 1100m mark, I gird myself and fix my faltering form as I pass the distance corner of the track, where it seems as if a coliseum has come to yell and cheer for every single racer (I cannot tell you how much this motivates me during a race). As my form improves, my speed increases.

Third lap split at 3:35 (1:18). I slowed down a lot, and if I wanted to break 4:40 for a mile, I needed to hurry the heck up. As I passed the 1200m mark and my coach told me to move my arms, I did unconsciously. I slowly increased my speed. Alex surges ahead of Hank, who is about 50 meters ahead, and Phillip is a good 75 to 80 meters ahead of me.

This is the crazy part: I pull a kick 100m farther from the finishing line than I have ever done before. As I hit the 1300m mark, I turn it on. Time slows, yet speeds up simultaneously. Before I know it, I'm ahead of Alex and Hank already before the final 200m. As I hit the 1400m mark, I'm on Phillip's heels. I pass him up at the 1420m mark.

I'm still going strong, with Raymond and Joaquin ahead of me by about 10 seconds. I maintain my blistering pace and get closer and closer to them until about 25 meters before the finish line. I just finish through, mentally dead, knees weak, legs and arms spaghetti. Hank finishes a few seconds behind me, followed by Phillip and Alex. Hank complements me on my kick, and I don't remember exactly what I said, probably gg or thank you or something of that sort.

As I step off the track on to the turf, everyone I see is in awe. They were dumbfounded that I could ever run that fast. I had no idea what my time was, but I knew it was a PR (my previous PR was a 4:46.93, but athletic.net rounded it up to a 4:47.0). They all said stuff like

"YOU'RE SO FAST." "Holy crap, that was a crazy kick!" "I was like 'WHERE DID ZACH COME FROM?'" "What are you doin' man? Way behind Phillip and Alex and then you come out of nowhere in front of them?!" (along with various other comparisons and quotes and many peoples saying "good job")

I have to say, it felt really good to be admired by the team like that. But I have to stay humble. Either I'm gonna brag about myself or people will brag for me, and I'd rather have the latter.

I heard two different stories on my time. Either high 4:30's or low 4:40's. I was so scared, but no one had an exact time. So I had to wait about an hour until results were posted on the track. The time?

4:40.44. Third place.

I was mad and ecstatic at the same time. I was happy I PR'd, but enraged that if I had not faltered in the last 25 meters, I would have broken 4:40. 

The Two Mile (aka Meet the Robinsons)

Drafting = letting someone else take the wind resistance by sticking behind them. The guy in front is taking more resistance (and therefore doing more work) than the guy behind him. Used in biking, race-driving, running, etc.

Okay, the two mile is better than the 800m hands down. But its so boring and mentally draining that on the seventh (SEVENTH) lap around the track, I feel like pooping myself and committing suicide. The third lap of the mile is more physically painful, but the seventh lap of the two mile is mental defecation.

Getting that point down, I learn through a few Cathedral runners that there are two twins on the other team, Michael Robinson (10) and Daniel Robinson (10) that run around my goal pace (10:20's). And it so happens that I raced their father in the one mile in November 2014 and he got 4:55 (a FIFTY-TWO YEAR OLD. GETTING SUB-5 FOR A MILE). AND he happened to be watching his two sons race at this meet.

This was gonna be interesting. 

Phillip Dorado (11) is hands-down better than me at the two mile. He has more aerobic capacity and he can go harder for longer. I have more speed, but that doesn't come into play very often in a race as long as the 3200m. Optimistically, I would be right behind Phillip in this race.

Before the race starts, I joke about how people willingly run the 3200m (because no one on God's green earth wants to unless your name is Phillip Dorado). Bam. The starting gun pops and Phillip goes balls out, while Ethan Chong (12), the Robinsons and myself trail behind Phillip by about 20-30 meters or so.

I stick behind Daniel for the first 1200m, and Ethan drops back due to a hamstring problem. I pass up Daniel around the 1400m mark and draft off of Michael Robinson. We come in the first mile at 5:10. Perfect pacing. Then the mental defecation sets in, and I stare at Michael's back to keep myself partially sane and conscious.

Maybe it was a lack of experience on his part, maybe it was me waiting forever for Michael to make a move, or him waiting for me to make a move, but I drafted off of him FOREVER. What I learned from the 3200m is that if one guy takes the lead pace in a pack for a majority of the race, he is less likely to win the race because he's too tired from taking the full brunt of the air's force (for like 7 laps) and will not feel like kicking or finishing harder. I learned this the hard way.

Michael made the mistake of letting me draft off of him for too long. The entire second mile, I was on his back. Phillip was still in front of the both of us, alone, by about 20 meters. That distance was closing every 100m, as Michael and I slowly, but very surely, inched and surged forward, gaining on a slowing leader.

I adamantly stuck to the back of Michael, letting him take the air's force. As we came in on the 2400m mark, I yell "GO PHILLIP." Because, honestly, I want Phillip to win the race, not Michael. I know Phillip has it in him to win, even if he was taking all that air alone. He would definitely pull through.

But, at the 2600m mark (1 1/2 laps to go), Michael surges ahead of Phillip, with the One Mile Run Boy on his back. Now it is my time to make my move. At the 2700m mark, I surge harder, forcing Michael to react to me. I keep him behind me as we come in the last quarter-mile. 

I decide to use my speed (sparingly) only in reaction to Michael's movements. I wait until the last 100m to go, and then Michael pulls out his kick, and then I reluctantly match his speed. Surprisingly, people were cheering, haha. No one watches the two mile.

As we come down the last 100m, I match Michael's surges and keep myself slightly in front of him to do the least amount of work possible while still beating Michael. He tires out, I lean forward, bam, I come in first. Zach - 10:20.57 Michael - 10:20.83

5:10 pace. Even. Splits.

That was the first official race I had ever won. It felt like any other race, to be completely honest. I never really acknowledged I won the two mile until someone asked me what place I came in. I thought stars raining down from the heavens would meet me when I won my first race.

But the fading indigo sky was staring down, along with the brilliantly-lit stadium lights on the track, and the supportive teammates were the things that met me after my race. Something much more glorious and calming than falling meteorites. 

I still keep in the back of my mind that I'd rather have other people brag for me than for me to brag about myself. If I am really that good, then people will spread the word. I thank my God, and glory not in my own physical abilities (which He gave to me). I thank my teammates (not just varsity, but all the supporters and athletes) for pushing me to do my best, and, I thank Mr. Dick Robinson for providing such healthy, fast and determined sons to run with!

It was a great meet for me, and a great meet for a lot of people. And I ran/died in the 4x400 after, haha, against my two best friends (beast -->) Nicholas Tu (12) and Alex Tung (12) (<-- beast) Signing off.

Results at http://www.athletic.net/TrackAndField/MeetResults.aspx?Meet=233726#1464

[alblint-blog]

Near #MiraMesaHighSchool