A Thanksgiving 5K Time Trial at Age 50
Turning 50 came with a handful of fitness goals I wanted to chase—some ambitious, some sentimental, all meaningful. One was doing 500 pull-ups, which I managed on my birthday. Another was achieving a muscle-up. I still can’t do one strict, but at least I can consistently eke out a chicken-wing version. Progress is progress.
A third goal was running a 20-minute 5K—a 5-kilometer time starting with a “20.” A year ago, during Thanksgiving in California on a morning run for my mom, I managed a 21:16. Then earlier this year in Pontevedra, I “accidentally” ran 20:57 during threshold intervals in January and clocked a 21:07 during a more intentional DIY time trial in March. But all of those efforts were at sea level, and all while I was 49. I turned 50 in June.
Despite its reputation as short and approachable, a 5K race is something many older distance runners I know absolutely dread. It’s short enough that you can—and should—run at or around your lactate threshold the whole way, yet long enough that twenty minutes of that intensity hurts. A lot.
This Thanksgiving felt like the right day to give a 5K time trial a real shot: part turkey trot tradition, part tribute to my mom, who passed away the day after Thanksgiving last year. I was by her side then, and running for her this year—like last year—felt right.
Training for the Effort
Leading up to Thanksgiving, I continued running 6–7 days a week. Once a week I did a 4K DIY time trial—not quite the full 5K, but enough to force myself to practice discomfort and pacing. Add to that my weekly Sprint 8 and Sunday long run, with remaining workouts being base or recovery runs, and I felt prepared. Especially mentally—4K time trials are perfect for rehearsing that prolonged 5K hurt.
Most of my 4Ks came in around 16:50. Interpolating those runs to 5K put me right at or slightly over 21:00—close enough to be tempting, yet not close enough for me to feel confident.
So on Thanksgiving Day, I deliberately tried to minimize pressure. Anything in the low 21s would make me happy. I’ll have plenty of opportunities—especially at sea level—to chase 20-flat. Still, I laced up my Saucony Endorphin Pro 3 “super shoes,” carbon plate and all, that I reserve for race days. They weigh about the same as my light-and-basic Kinvaras, and I’m not convinced they’re significantly faster for me despite feeling much different. But in this case, even a couple seconds per mile could be the difference between a “20” and a “21.”
The Time Trial
I did a 1 km warmup, walked a bit, then started the time trial. The course was roughly the same one I ran for the WGU Night Owl Trot 5K “virtual race” five years ago during the pandemic—at least for the first 4.3 kilometers. Back then I ran 21:29. Today, even five years older, I was confident I could beat that.
I tried to stay relaxed early on. Having recently run the course as part of the weekly 4Ks helped immensely. The first kilometer clicked off in 3:58—faster than any of my 4K splits in the previous weeks—and my legs were feeling good.
The first mile came in at 6:38. Since I’d need to average around 6:44/mile to dip under 21 minutes, this was a perfect start.
The second kilometer slowed to 4:17, but I expected that—an extremely slight uphill and still early in the effort. I maintained my usual 6-count breathing pattern (1-2-3 exhale, 4-5-6 inhale), mostly through my nose but with a little mouth breathing sneaking in. I was still feeling decent as I raced down a street on the east end of the Brighwater Landing neighborhood.
By 4 km, my watch showed 16:40. That meant I needed sub-4:20 for the final kilometer. Suddenly, sub-21 looked very possible despite feeling nearly at my limit.
My heart rate crept into Zone 5. My breathing compressed to a 4-count pattern (1-2 exhale, 3-4 inhale). As I trotted through the Maple Hill subdivision, I passed several people walking their dogs. They might have wondered why I was running like a maniac on Thanksgiving morning—or maybe they just assumed I was doing a 5K, which is practically a national tradition.
With 400 meters to go, I tried to pick up the pace. With 200 to go, I kicked into a full-on sprint, channeling the 30-second repeats from Sprint 8 workouts. I was audibly gasping and grunting.
When the Garmin ticked over to 5.01 km, I stopped both the watch and my legs.
20:50.
Strava would later claim 20:49 for exactly 5 kilometers, which is what I’ll count. Either way: I did it.
The Asterisk—and the Altitude
There is a small asterisk: the course was point-to-point with about 100 feet of occasional, gradual downhill. Nothing crazy, but certainly worth at least a few seconds.
On the other hand, this run was at near-mile-high altitude in Fort Collins, which usually penalizes me by 10–15 seconds per mile.
Either way, it felt like a huge win—and it set a wonderful tone for the rest of Thanksgiving. One more age-50 goal checked off. I think I smiled all the way home.
A Friendly Encounter
About 400 meters from home, I encountered a friendly cat on the trail. I stopped to pet it, then walked toward the little beach at Richards Lake to take a few pictures.
A moment later, I heard a soft meow behind me. The cat had followed. I spent a while hanging out with it, and despite being white with brown splotches, its friendliness reminded me of Oreo, my late tuxedo cat. In the past year, I’ve lost both my mom and Oreo. Today felt like a good day to think of them, honor them, and appreciate the small moments.
What’s Next at Age 50?
I’ll continue doing the weekly 4Ks—or some of the interval repeats that my Garmin Epix Pro sometimes prescribes. I think even at a half-century old, I still have a little more 5K speed to gain. I don’t believe I can run sub-20 again—something I’ve only managed a handful of times—even at sea level, but who knows? A few seconds here and there might open the door.
As for other age-50 goals: I’d like to run a sub-3h30m marathon—something I did plenty of times in my 30s and 40s but never could in my 20s (and something I missed out on by over five minutes at Berlin two months ago). I have complete confidence that that will happen. More daunting still, I’d like to achieve a sub-6:00 mile—something I could do in my 20s. Honestly, I dread racing the mile even more than a 5K, but maybe I’ll give it a shot before the year is out.
For now, though: 20:49 at age 50. I’ll happily take it.
I’m actually trying not to look at any of these goals as a “finish line” of sorts, but rather a measurement in time and an interesting challenge. In the bigger picture, what is more important is to maintain the highest level of fitness I can (within reason) for as long as I am alive. I wonder what my 5K time will be at age 60? What about at 80 and 100? High levels of fitness now give me the best shot of having a decent level of fitness late in life.
Run Data
Strava time for exactly 5.0 kilometers: 20:49 (6:42/mile or 4:10/km)
There are 2 comments.
Great job on the 5K. I dread them too and haven’t been able to bring myself to make such an effort. Maybe in 2026. When the lungs starts burning and the taste of blood enters my mouth, I know I am at my limit… and that’s just a couple of Ks in with 3 more to go. Part of me just wants to say, “Okay you have done that before. No more need to subject yourself to this again. There’s nothing to prove. Just enjoy your runs moving forward.”
I know the feeling of being at my limit after only the second kilometer. In my 20s, that was a big problem for me—getting into the “hurt zone” too early. That was usually due to starting out too fast and then fading badly.
These days I try to start more conservatively and make sure to warm up beforehand, at least for the shorter runs. Ideally, you’d only be burning a lung and tasting blood by the fourth kilometer or the last mile. Still, it's not pleasant!