Reflections on Final Exams After a Half Marathon Race
Final exams are a long-standing tradition in high school and college. They are supposed to show how much a student has learned over the course of a semester or a year. I’m surprised at how much weight these tests are still given in some schools–sometimes having significant impacts on students’ overall grades for a class.
I was reminded how inaccurate it is to gauge your success over a long period based on one single event after a recent half marathon.
I signed up for the Old Port Half Marathon in Portland, Maine, early in the winter. It was going to be my major training focus for the first half of the year.
I crafted a training plan in December, outlining goals and milestones from January through early June. January was about building a base—adding mileage and starting some light strength training. In February, March, and April, I increased mileage and added speed work and longer harder runs. By late April, I was getting in over 40 miles a week. In early May, I finished building up and then in late May, it was time to rest and recover to be ready for the race on June 7.
Over those six months, I had some of the best and most consistent training I’ve had as a runner. Not only did I stay on track with my running goals, but I made some important shifts in my diet. I ate very little meat and drank less alcohol than I have since before college. I was consistent with strength training and did more stretching than ever. Some of my training runs were fantastic. My V02 max hit 50, which put me in the top 5% of people my age. Several times, I ran 13-15 miles with several sets of 2-mile intervals at a 7:20-7:40 pace mixed in. As June approached, I started to think that a PR (1:38:40, a 7:32 pace) was within reach. At the very least, I thought I could break 1:40 (7:38 pace).
As race day approached, I kept a careful eye on the weather. I’m sensitive to heat, and a June race is risky, even in Portland, Maine. This time though, heat wasn’t going to be the problem—it was rain. I actually enjoy running in the rain, but I’m not fond of racing in it. More than three miles of the course is on a stone-dust trail, and mud is not fun. Plus, wet sneakers are heavy. In the days leading up to the race, the hour-by-hour forecast showed potential heavy rain. The morning of the race, it was cloudy, but the worst of the rain appeared to be holding off. I thought a PR might still be in the cards.
I got up at 4:15 for some coffee and a light breakfast—two eggs and a bagel. With the race starting at 7:00, I gave myself plenty of time for digestion. A friend and I had stayed in a hotel the night before, and we had a relaxed morning of stretching, warming up, and chatting about the race. We jogged over to the start line to warm up.
What I hadn’t thought about much was the humidity. The temperature wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cool either. 60°F is about 10 degrees warmer than my ideal running temp, and it was foggy. The Portland skyline was wreathed in mist. I still felt pretty good heading into the race though. My plan was to run by feel: the first three miles needed to feel easy, the next six comfortably hard, and by mile 11, I hoped to have energy to tackle a monster hill. Then I’d cruise to the finish.
The first three miles went well. There’s a decent hill in the first mile, so a 7:41 pace felt just about right. Miles 2 and 3 felt easy at a 7:27 and 7:36 pace. A heavy downpour in the middle of mile 2 made my sneakers heavy, but it also cooled me off, which was welcome. I was already feeling overly warm. By mile 4, the run wasn’t feeling easy anymore. I backed off the pace a bit, and miles 4-5 were a 7:44 and 7:41. By the middle of mile 6, my heart rate was too high (175) for me to sustain for much longer.
By mile 8, I was dragging and starting to dread the hill. Mile 10 ends in a slight uphill, and I was riding the struggle bus, my pace dropping to 8:06. My new goal for the hill was to not walk, which I managed, but my pace really slipped—to 8:46. Miles 12 and 13 were just about finishing. I brought the pace back down: 8:09 and 7:51, with the help of coming down the big hill.
My final time was 1:42:40, a 7:51 pace. Given the humidity and heavy sneakers, I was okay with that. My time was decent, but nowhere near what I was hoping for. I had certainly worked hard. (At the finish line a police officer asked me if I was okay. I said, “Do I look that bad?” He replied, “You’re a little ashen.”) Conditions were a factor, but I wondered, if I’d run mile 2 at a 7:37 instead of a 7:27, might my overall heart rate not have climbed so quickly? Perhaps I could have run several miles 5 second faster later? I was proud of sticking with the run and not giving up, and my overall places (321 out of 3,258 and 10 out of 141 in my age group) were good. Two years ago, my time was faster (1:42:08), but my relative placing was higher this time. Still, I had mixed emotions about the overall race.
So, what if I had to judge my running from January to June primarily on that big race—a high stakes assessment? I’d probably give myself a C (whatever the heck that means) on the race itself. But was that reflective of my running in the first half of the year? Not even close. I stuck with my training plan and was incredibly healthy. I added strength training, improved my eating habits, and stayed injury free—not a small thing when you’re running in your mid-50s. I also ran some 5Ks during the spring, and those went well. I displayed strong competence as a runner in almost every way through the first half of the year. Though the big race was a bit disappointing, it doesn’t take anything away from my other accomplishments.
So why do we often place so much weight on big assessments for students? If a student does good work all semester and demonstrates competence along the way, should a less than stellar performance on a big test really mean that much? Maybe they had a bad night’s sleep. Maybe they just broke up with a boyfriend or girlfriend. Maybe their parents are getting a divorce and they’re an emotional mess. Maybe they panicked and blanked during the test. Or maybe the humidity got to them.
Perhaps a better measure of students’ overall achievement and success should come from a variety of criteria: observations, conversations, daily work, self-assessments, projects, and more. Maybe we shouldn’t put so much pressure and weight on one big exam.
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