Let's Hear It: What's Your Worst Race Ever?

Wow, dude. You win.And for the one that was complaint about his/her 2:22/2:39...really?

I think my worse race ever happened my senior year of college at the CAA championships.

I was an 800m runner but the year before I won the CAA 1500m in a surprise after asking my coach if I could run the 1500 before the 800 since we were so deep in the 800.

Senior year I ran only the 1500. I was stronger than the year before and was hoping to win again.

The thing is, to get points for our team I entered the long jump too, which only had 4 competitors including myself.

I beat one guy (I jumped 20'6") so I got third and earned 6 points for our team. I had jumped 21 feet in high school.

But it was really hot. And I took all six jumps when I only needed the one jump for the points.

Hanging out in the heat and jumping drained me.

Now it's time for the 1500. I ran 3:54 the year before and 3:52 that year.

This year the race was a bit loaded. Paul Vandegrift was in the race and I believe Brian Hyde and Matt Houlthaus were too ( They all went on to run under 3:40).

I wound up at the front and took them through the first lap in 59 or 60. Then slowed down a lot the second lap before everyone jumped me. I had nothing.

They were getting further and further away over the last 700m.

Vandegrift won in 3:47 or 3:48 I think.

I was way back in 3:59 near last place - no points.

But still 6 points for the long jump that day.

The next year I dropped my PR to 3:42.9

Freshman year of college, I got terribly sick. Wasn't able to run for a whole week, but coach and I decided I should still run the mile at BU Valentine invite. I was entered with I think a 4:20 seed time. Came through the half in 2:10, then the wheels came off pretty badly. Finished DFL in the heat, a good 50m back, in 4:38. The worst part was, once everyone else in the race finished, the whole building went silent. The only sound was my now thunderously loud footfalls as I crawled my way to a 78 last 400.

there's been so many that its hard to put one down that stands out. i went through 10 miles of a hm in under 55mins and then ran over 21mins for the last 5k to finish in 1.16.04. i was being passed by people with a mile to go that beat me by 90 seconds. i felt great at 9 miles as well. i literally went past the 10 mile marker and it was like all my energy was zapped. i ran at least the last 2 miles staring at my watch watching the 0.1 miles go down.

i ran an 800 in school as well where i split 59 and finished in close on 2.20 as well. i had run 2.05 at the time/

I ran a 36min 10k at my outdoor conference meet. I had been injured most of the spring, but it was at our college that year so I went for it. My parents, who didn't get to a lot of my races were coming up but thankfully I called and told them not to. There was a stinker on the way.

I went through 5k in a little over 16 and had nothing left, but I was already in last. I ended up getting lapped twice by the second to last placed runner meaning I had two laps entirely solo. I now call laps like these victory laps.

I was going so slow that my coach was able to have casual conversation with me about whether I was injured. I remember one lap he finished with 'we'll talk about it next lap.'

Also humorous was that I had a team mate giving me splits and I was running so slow that he was going back and fourth across the track to give me times which led to a 'pacing' warning being issued over the loud speaker despite me being a lap + back of the field at that point.

My junior year at the state cross preview meet, I went out in the top 20, where I should have gone out, and began to fade (blow up is a better descriptor) at the two mile mark of the 5k. The last mile was slight up and down with hairpin turns, and every time I took a turn I lost 5 spots and would lose a ton on every change of elevation. I went from running 17:20 pace (hard corse, guy that ran high 15's that year ran 16:50 at this meet) to running 21:00 at the end. I ended up coming back to break 17 later that year, but I was relegated to JV for a couple of meets.

Maybe the only other one that could come close was a 1500 at a local meet. I had just missed an indoor season which had seen me suspended from the team and then too sick to race once my suspension ended. I had opened the season at small meet where I won the 1500 in 3:59, running the last 1k in 2:30 and losing on the lean to a teammate that had just run 4:05 for the mile. On this day of my race I just felt tired all day and couldn't really get into the groove of race day. We went out pretty slow, and as the pace started to ratchet down I watched everyone else just sort of move away. My teammate that had just been released from the hospital passed me with 200 to go and I summoned enough pride to kick him down the last 100, but I ran something god awful like 4:13. I went on to run low 3:50's that season.

Might not be the craziest story to be posted on this thread but I feel like I have that class, "worst race" story.

Pretty much I didnt start running until my Senior year of high school when I joined the indoor track team at my high school. I had always played soccer and baseball so that took up most of my sports time but then my school only had an outdoor track team until my junior year when they started both a cross team and an indoor track team. Thus, during my senior year when I would do anything to miss class I decided to join the indoor track team. However, this only came after two important other incidents. 1: I got cut from the varsity basketball team because, lets be serious, I sucked. And second, I found out that a girl I really liked was on the team and I figured I might as well join. About 1 week after joining we had our first "meet" of the season. I put the word meet in quotes because looking back on it it almost seems like a bunch of the coaches just brought their teams out and let them run in heats against one another. But lets get to the race:

I was put into the 400 by my coach at a seed time of 60 seconds. This was also taking place at the armory in new york, which required me to run like 2.5 laps. But beyond making the pacing difficult, this was going to be my first 400 ever. No one told me how to run a 400, and most importantly no one told me how far 400 meters actually feels. Coming from soccer I thought I could just sprint the entire thing as "400 meters" didnt sound that long. Speaking of which, I also did not own a pair of running shoes yet, so lets no even worry about spikes. I showed up in a pair of indoor soccer shoes, my coach told me I couldnt run in them, so I borrowed my buddies shoes (I think it was a nimbus, perfect for the 400...) for the race. My buddy was a size 10.5, I am a size 8.5. Also note that the girl I liked on my team was at this meet, and I wanted to impress her. So the gun goes off, and I start sprinting (having barley warmed up because I didnt know what to do). Get way out ahead of everyone. Kill the first 200, but am starting to feel it really bad. Hit that two lap mark and I am really dying. My legs are really turning to jello at this point, but I am still in the lead. But then the fact that this was indoor track comes into play: those banked tracks. I come out of the turn into the final strait, but the banking has like a little dip before it flattens out. And being as tired as I was, I was not ready for that. I FACE PLANTED with 40 meters to go. But I was so far ahead I thought I could still win. I tried to get up, but my legs were done now and I got half-way up before FACE PLANTING again. So pretty much at this point I am lying on the track, everyone passes me, and I finally get up. I still finish the race, about 5 or so seconds back. Worst part is the one kid on the infield that is just screaming, "Way to finish man! Great job! Great effort!" Oh yeah, and I looked like an idiot in front of my whole team (including the girl I joined the team for). Classic.

The time I ran an ultramarathon on a whim, definitely.

I had been injured all spring, and so starting in the summer I did about 40 mpw with a lot of 400 repeats in the hopes of running a mile PR in August. Then one day while talking with the local running club folks, they convinced me to sign up for the local ultra -- a 50k trail race with about 17000 feet of elevation change on a pretty technical trail. The signup was a couple months ahead of the race, so I signed up and figured on just jogging it for fun.

So as the race came up, I did a couple of 90-120 minute runs on the trail and thought it wasn't so bad. Then I got a little more competitive, and decided I could win it (not a huge race). THEN I decided that the course record, like a 4:38, was totally do-able. So the race starts and I go out with the leaders, pushing the pace at times. Everyone else had a water bottle, but I didn't want to carry one, figuring the aid stations every 7-8 miles would be plenty. It was August in the mid-Atlantic, but fortunately the temps were only in the 80s.

The first 10 miles were pretty easy, but I made the mistake of running all the big uphills (at the time assuming that the other guys walking the hills were just schlubs). Hit the turnaround in 2:30, but the 2 miles approaching the turnaround dropped 1000 ft. The return ascent on that killed me, and was mostly walking. After that, I progressively cratered until my body was just done at mile 26. Stopped to rest and my hip flexors screamed at me. After that I was just walk/jogging the rest of the way trying to beat the first woman, who finally caught me a quarter mile from the finish. I wound up like 8th in 5:50, making my splits 2:30, 3:20. After the run I pounded a bunch of grape soda, stumbled around because sitting was too painful, and drove home in a daze without talking to anyone. Lesson learned: you can't prepare for an ultra on a Roger Bannister training plan.

Senior year of HS I qualified for the PA indoor state championship in the 800m. Up to that point this was the biggest race of my life. My indoor PR was 2:01…I went out the first 400 in 56 and tanked hard. I was dead last in my heat and got the dreaded slow-clap from a race official as I sprinted down the homestretch alone.

The worst part came AFTER the race; my head coach told me I had STILL PR’d at 1:59 despite my poor finish! I was ecstatic. At this point I didn’t care about getting last, I was on Cloud 9 since I had broken 2:00 for the first time. A few minutes later I spoke with a different coach who tried consoling me about my race…I was confused since I thought he had heard the good news about my 1:59, so I told him something like “yea I got last, but I still ran 1:59 for a new PR”...he kind of just stood there and didn’t say anything. He was a quiet guy, so I assumed he was just soaking it in.

It turns out I actually ran 2:03…when the results had flashed onto the scoreboard, my head coach had mistakenly accredited the 1:59 to me, when in reality my name was on the second page of results with a 2:03…WOMP, WOmp, womp.

It was painful sitting in the lobby waiting for my dad to confirm that I had run slowly (at this point I was still in denial and holding out hope that I may have run 1:59).

I attribute my failure to drinking whole milk that morning, as opposed to 1%...the Nittany Lion Inn didn’t have the goods – neither did I.

I recently married my sweetheart and we traveled to her home town to run her favorite home-town race. The 4th of July half marathon. I came into the race with a 1:14 half marathon PR (1:09 if you include the first half of a marathon relay on a considerably faster course), and the race had typically been won in 1:24.

4th of July was on a weekend that year so the party started the night before. Pre-race meal included, braughts, burgers, jalapeno poppers and beer (along with other typical BBQ food). I wasn't too worried since the race was going to be won around 10 minutes slower than my PR. I was in the habit of taking some immodium before races, so that should take care of GI issues...

Race morning. Being the first time I had raced in the area, I didn't know anyone so I worked my way up through the crowd instead of getting in front right away (didn't want to be racing the guys that die after mile 1). After 2 miles, I was in the 2nd group and two runners were up the road a bit. I chatted with a guy in the second group and learned the guys ahead were legit. One was a U-23 elite cross country skier (had represented the United States and had podium finishes in international competitions), the other was a mediocre D1 college cross country runner but still a threat. So I decided to bridge the gap. I passed the D1 guy at about 4 miles and caught the cross country skier another quarter mile later.

After drafting for a half mile or so for a breather, I pulled shoulder to shoulder with the skier. We were running between 5:50 and 6:15 pace depending on the hills. Lungs felt great, legs felt both smooth and 'poppy'...I was confident I was going to win this thing. The skier was starting to labor around 5 miles. I decided there was no reason for me to hang around with this guy...the course was turning from entirely up-hill to rolling down hill, I felt good, he was laboring...time to put it away. I stepped back, blew a snot rocket, then attacked on a little kicker of a hill around 6.5 miles in.

Then SHIT SHIT SHIT! I got a calf cramp. That had never happened to me (and later I found out it was compartment syndrome...that ended up being misdiagnosed for 5 years...I still haven't returned to that fitness). I hobbled a bit...the skier passed me, and I pulled back in pace and changed my stride...I thought he was struggling and I still had a chance.

OUCH! I started to notice that I forgot the body glide on the inner-thigh...I can deal with some caffeing.

Shit! D1 runner passed me like I'm standing still at mile 7...look at watch...try to respond...calf cramps again...A podium should be okay...

Mile 7.5...Must have forgotten the immodium...yep forgot the immodium. Quick there's a bush! One less sock...

8.5 miles in...is that blood on my thigh...getting passed by the somewhat old guy who's ran forever and is as strong as an ox (you know the one...they are seemingly at every race).

9 miles in...no bush, but there's a shed...no more socks. (passed by leading pack of 3 women and entire '2nd' group of 8 or 10 men).

10 miles in...no-way I'm getting passed by THAT guy (5'8" wearing all heather grey cotton and is a soft 175 at least)...calf cramps again...limping now

11 miles in...construction site with a port-a-poty...with no tissue paper...and no socks....maybe I'll just stay here...

I ended up finishing in under 2 hours...legs were literally bloody due to chaffing...I ended up having to shit 4 times in the last half and had GI issues for the entire day (shitty way to spend the 4th of July), and day after, and the calf cramps required surgery (once they were properly diagnosed), and I still have not returned to the previous level.

I got lapped by a kid with one arm in a high school 3k. But on the other hand, he wasn't disabled.

2002 Boston Marathon

Coming off my 1st marathon the previous October (2001 Marine Corp Marathon), I tried to correct for my mistakes from my intial attempt at the distance. My MCM inolved a serious bonk at 22.5, but I still mustered a 2:48. For Boston, I ended up over hydrating (the long wait in Hopkinton lead to drinking too much water and Gatorade). Things started off great. I was running 5:55-6:00 pace through 13, but I had to pee. I didn't want to stop, so I actually pissed my shorts without breaking stride. I came through 20 in just over 2 hrs, but after the Firehouse in Newton, I got some serious leg cramps. I plodded home in 3:01 - over 1 hr for the last 6.2! The worst part was being passed by Jay Jacob Wind with his attrocious form and crazing grunting with about a mile left. Jay was/is an incredible runner, but anyone who ran in the DC area knows that Jay's grunting is the last thing you want to hear late in a race - especially a bad one.

I've definitely had some good ones... almost all came as a result of severe overtraining. One stands out to me:

Having run 8:47 in the 3k during the opening meet of ndoor track one year of college, I proceeded to go home over winter break and overtrain the $*1^ out of myself. Came back to school feeling like death but thought that things would come together on race day for an early-January meet. Nope. The first 400 felt like a dead sprint and I was already falling off the back despite the pace being slower than the pace I ran 5 weeks prior. As the pack ran away from me in a hurry, I felt like I had absolutely nothing in my legs. Got lapped by the pack around the mile marker but a teammate who was just returning from surgery was still behind me. On the final straightaway my teammate gunned me down and I could hear some of my other teammates sarcastically announcing our "race" for DFL. Crossed in something like 9:25. A week later I ran a 16-something 5k (after having a PR of low-15) and my coach shut me down for the season. Took several months to recover from the hole I had dug myself. Gooooodddd times, goooood times...

My worst race happened at my first track meet ever in 7th grade.

I was the anchor of the mile relay. By the time I got the hand-off we had been LAPPED by half the field. In a mile relay! We didn't drop the baton, we were just that terrible. The whole lap I was dodging spectators walking across the track on the way to their cars. A few stopped and gave a pity clap.

In grad school I joined my university's club XC team. We mostly competed at our school's home meets. One day, after work, I went out to watch our team compete at a pretty big 8k invitational meet. Some big schools were there and I think Leo Manzano was running that day too.

I had not entered and did not plan to run because I didn't think I would get off work in time. So I show up in dress clothes with a McDonald's Quarter-Pounder combo in hand.

All the sudden, one of my club teammates ran up to me and said, "You're here! Great. We need you."

"Uh...(munch, munch, swig)....what?"

"One of the guys didn't show. The race starts in like 10 mins. We need a 5th man."

"I...um...I don't have shoes. I don't have shorts. I've got a belly full of burger grease and soda."

"Come on, dude. Take one for the team. I'm sure we've got some shoes and shorts for you. We won't get scored if we don't have a 5th."

So anyways. They found me a pair of old New Balance trainers and some running shorts. There was no time to warm up. I had just enough time to run to the bathroom and change, and then get to the start line.

The first mile was ok. I wasn't worried about time or place. I just needed to finish. I went out relatively easy, towards the back of the pack. But by mile 3 or so, I got cramps like you wouldn't believe and slowed WAY down. Before long I was in dead last and practically crawling. I crossed the finish line in last place as onlookers gave me a few patronizing pity claps. I think my avg pace was somewhere around 6:00/mile.

As I crossed the finish line, my club mates were good sports and congratulated me (while laughing). I felt like I was going to crap out my insides, but I managed to keep it together.

That was embarrassing.

b runs wrote:

Also humorous was that I had a team mate giving me splits and I was running so slow that he was going back and fourth across the track to give me times which led to a 'pacing' warning being issued over the loud speaker despite me being a lap + back of the field at that point.

+1 I laughed at reading this.

I was the anchor of our 4x400m squad that placed last at league championships. Our league was disbanded the next year, which means I was THE last runner in league history.

3:14 marathoner for context.

College triathlon championships in I think 2011 at alabama.

Swim was 59 degree water with no wetsuit (didnt have one) and but 90 degree, heat index over 105 air temp. My body just fell apart. "Ran" the 5k in 24:30. Felt like death. The heat was just...hell. I've lived in the south for 10 years but this was just insane to have such a dramatic internal temp change. I drank gallons of fluids after the race, went in a cold bath, sat in ac and still felt hot as hell. Took me days to feel normal again.

oldold runner wrote:

[...]

That was my WORST race ever, but not my worst PERFORMANCE ever.

Yea big difference

I Don't think many people meself incl wud hav the courage to admit the siches when they have noobed it up. Straight noobery w/o (much) qualification.

SOO... I'll share a cautionary tale.

annual Spring 10-miler race: out in the elements.

First time is modest success without any hitches... (compared to the second time out, focus of this story)

Second time: come in.

undertrained...

misjudging and forgetting the training that went into the success of the first outting...

That is, to say, Underestimating the task involved n' the parameters of no hitches

I wear a new pair of trainers to the race that haven't really been seriously tested and worn in. I don't recall if my feet changed but the shoe was too tight/poor fit.

I had the bright evaluation that, since I was slightly farty the first time out then this (second) time out,

WHY NOT skip breakfast. Conscious decision n' overconfidence, too.

might have not ate much that night b4.

Add to it,

the motivation & personal inspiration I brought going into this the first time is absent this time 'round.

Infact I'd been having vicious arguments/interpersonal strife on many days leading up to, on the very night, and the very morning of the race. (And when I returned!)

Race comes

Into the race shoes start to hurt weather is unexpectedly COLD and WINDEY

Somewhere in a deadmen's land half-ways thru race I'm bonkin', the shoes r hurtin & cutting my ankles.

& it is so cold & windy, I think, I'm going to die.

Stop running n don't even think I can make it walking snail pace. Getting passed by small middleaged n' older ladies. But some Lady comes to my rescue and offers help.

Curiously she thinks I'm just 'nauseous' or something & on the verge of "puking" (she asks if I'm going to throw up, not if I'm cold cut hungry thirsty exausted) as if this a 800/1500m race. Nope it's deadly serious

Her Husband comes along in a car and drives me to safety. Race was long aborted..But more importantly, I learned2 respect the elements, and for longer distances, and everything on up if u come UNprepared it can be life threatening.

I think true whether it is a race or training run somewhere out in the country.

B4 I never was humbled during running like that.

Only on non-running hiking or walking trips in nature or rainstorms or blizzards

The worst race ever?

Would be the type No homo sapein wud want2 have...where there is no happy return to health 2 tell the story...