What is THE WORST race day scenario you have encountered?

Running late to race to realize bib left at home.

allyear wrote:

Shit yourself?

Slept in?

What's your best race day hell situation?

Senior year of high school I would always bring two pairs of spikes to every meet. Come the state championship meet (where I had a chance to place) I realized fifteen minutes before my race all I had brought was two left spikes. I finished 9th.

Tired of being the bridesmaid in the 5000 at my university, I switched my focus to the steeple in my senior year season. Learned how to hurdle and spent months studying the event. Set several PR's during the season, and came within 10 seconds of the school record. Come to find out on the morning of regionals that the coach declared me in the 5000 instead of the steeple because we "needed the points". One of my teammates wins the steeple in a time slower than anything I had run all season. He advances to nationals. I get 4th in the 5000 and sit home.

A few years later, I'm in great 5000 shape. A fast 5000 gets put together at a meet at U of Penn (not the Relays) and I get in. Marcus O'Sullivan is running and it's gonna be a barn burner. It rains the day of the meet, and all of the events get cancelled - except for the 5000 - which starts two hours earlier than scheduled. The race is in progress as I arrive to check in.

More from Barabbas -

TWICE I have been in the lead at road races (without the assistance of a pace car), and made a wrong turn due to poorly marked courses and gotten lost. Both times I eventually found my way back and jogged it in mid-pack. It is an awful feeling when you think you're having this fabulous race and it slowly starts seeping in that something's not right...

Once in a cross country race, the lead pack disturbed a huge nest of ground hornets. When I came by soon after, myself and everyone near me were attacked. I got stung 14 times.

Showing up to a 10 mile race forgetting to pack my racing flats. Borrowed a pair a size to small from Mike Roche, who would set the AR, even after getting knocked to the pavement by a cyclist. One good deed deserves another.

Once ran an out an back 5k. The turn around wasn't marked and the lead biker didn't know where the turnaround was. Ran about a half mile past it while the event staff started yelling for everyone to turn around. Some people even turned around before the mark. I put in a big surge and tried to get back into the lead. Eventually gave up and jogged in it wearing flats and 2" split shorts with the group of overweight hobby joggers pushing strollers with their ipods in. I think some 70 year old woman ended up "winning" the race.

Going old school. 1978. Road race, temperature is a scorching and the race is really humid. I look over at Bill Rodgers, and tell him I'm going to take over a while. I don't know what happened from that point on, I blacked out but kept running. I'm told later I finished 10th and collapse immediately, my temperature ended up being 107.

Effed up and got suspended from team for the next meet, but were required to go to the meet. Wake up that morning and it's starting to drizzle. By the time we get to the meet it's raining steadily. Coach wouldn't let us sit on the bus, had to sit in the stands all day in the rain.

Guy running next to me in a half marathon had a violent urge of diarrhea and had to run into a Tim Horton's on the side of the road. When he gets in there they have no toilet paper and he frantically begs someone at the counter to give him some. Amazingly he came back out and continued the race at a decent effort.

Trained all winter for a spring marathon in Kansas, a couple hundred miles away. Arrive the night before and the sky is pink - not pretty - more like grass-fire-pink. And the air is thick and heavy with smoke. We race the next morning in the same conditions, compounded by 20+mph winds (which is why the grass-fire was out of control in the first place). Worst marathon I ever did.

I was living in NY after graduating college. Burned out on training and catching up on drinking and late nights. Got roped into doing the Imogene Pass Run in Colorado ("It's gonna be beautiful out there, man!"). I show up for the race without having run a step in 5 months, thinking my "base" will get me through it. The first 10 miles are uphill, peaking at an elevation of over 13,000 ft. The next 7 miles are straight downhill to Telluride. I thought I was gonna die. Most miserable "race" experience of my life. It was beautiful, though.

1. Running a little late to get registered for a race on race day. About 12 of us in line when the fat-a$$ race director walks over and says we gotta close registration about right here (he draws a line after the 10th guy) leaving me and another guy standing there as number 11 and 12 - SOL. I lost my mind and gave the guy both barrels. Needless to say I got in the race, went out WAY too fast (from anger) and blew up. Still got 3rd or 4th OA though...

2. Ran a 5k/10k race. was signed up for the 5k which was supposed to start 15 minutes AFTER the 10k. About 6 of us didn't hear the race was not together so we started with the 10k race people. The 5k course was completely different and we wondered why there were no runners...

1) leading a 10k race running down a hill in a public park 2 women walking 3 dogs coming towards me. i move to one side and right as i get to them they just let the dogs go wherever they want one bolts to me i move to the side slip on the grass and pull my groin. i didnt finish.

2) leading a steeple chase and clattering the barrier with my lead leg. somersaulted over it and landed on my back. ended up 4th.

3) getting stuck in traffic arriving to a race as the gun went off had to go through the start and work my way through all the old women etc on narrow paths

4) every long race that ive not been fully fit for. theres nothing more depressing than having nothing left to give with 40 minutes+ still to run

I had just ran a good 4 mile race and I was ready to go for the prestigious village 5k the next week (200 participants, 10 actual runners). I had won the year before, so I was eager to defend my title. Unfortunately, I end up sick in bed for most of the week prior to the race. Managed a shakeout run around the block the day before. Race morning comes and despite the race being at the end of June, I am freezing at the start line. Start the race in a sprint, determined to 'get it over quick.' Led the race for the first 3 miles. Don't remember finishing, came to at the base of a tree with a few people gathered around me to see if I was alright. Was told I finished 2nd, and "did you see the kid that beat you?" "No, I am going home." Got up and jogged home. Spent rest of weekend in bed.

In my first track race in college, I was slated to run the 3000 in some po dunk preseason outdoor meet. Coming from HS I knew the 3200 well and when race time came, I acted on muscle memory and headed for the finish line. Well the start and finish line for the 3k is not one in the same as we all know; they are on opposite ends of the track. I may have known this before race day but that all went out the window. So here I am, running strides on the home stretch and getting in the zone until I finally realize I am there all alone. Why is that? I look over at the start line and realize my error. I begin to sprint across the field as the starter raises his gun. I yell out. It didn't matter, I get to the 50 yd line and the gun goes off. Everyone stares at the kid screaming in the middle of the field as the runners go round and round. My coach gets pissed. That's all.

You did place though, you got 9th place. Hahahaha

Brainlapse wrote:

Senior year of high school I would always bring two pairs of spikes to every meet. Come the state championship meet (where I had a chance to place) I realized fifteen minutes before my race all I had brought was two left spikes. I finished 9th.

I showed up for a race and the only reason I showed up was because my buddy was a big Jordan Hasay fan and heard she would be there (in attendance). I wasn't expecting to run well since I have really bad allergies. My buddy jokingly told me I should wear one of those hospital masks so I would be okay and not breathing it in. Add in some recent injuries and a drop in form and I knew it could be a long day.

About 10 minutes from the race site, I realize that I forgot my racing shoes and the only thing I had was the trainers on my feet.

As for the race, the allergies did affect me pretty bad and my pace was slowed, as such. I remember at one point actually getting lapped by the lead runner. At some point right then, I stopped thinking about the conditions (and my shoes) and just started running relaxed, knowing I had a decent amount of the race left.

My pace dropped almost instantly and before I knew it, I was making up huge strides on the lead runner. About 1/4 a mile before the end, I passed him with the crowd was going nuts. Realizing I had the race won and with the crowd in a frenzy, as I approached the finish line, I grabbed my junk and yelled "Gobble Gobble Mother F****s" at the top of my lungs.

I was back.

Ran a stupid road 5k that was supposed to start at 9:00 AM. When the clock strikes 9:00, the race director announces that they are delaying the start 20 minutes to accommodate the hobby joggers. Gun goes off at 9:10, a full 10 minutes early. A lot of the legit runners missed the start, so I managed to place.

Had to run my first competitive marathon at Nationals (NAIA). Had qualified with a half. Live in Washington, go to Indiana, there is a three hour time difference. The race starts at 6 AM EST. My body is still on PST, so trying to trick my body to go to bed super early is tough. Friday night I manage to pass out around 8 PM. Then my roommate comes in and wakes me up. I am up until about 11 PM. Wake up at 4 AM (1 AM what I am use to) to eat. Have taken a dump in 36 hours, getting nervous. Try to go to the bathroom...nothing. Tell my coach about it and he gives some encouraging words like "Well, you better do it now or you're going to do it when you're running." Well, I can't dump. I am racing on no sleep at what feels like 3 AM. Go out and start to tank at mile 9. All of the aid stations are gatorade powder mixed with water and the concentrations are off and it's awful. Finish the race and didn't shit myself. Eat a bunch of watermelon. Throw it all up. Get back to the room and realize that my dong has been chaffed completely raw. Good shit.