This year one of my biggest running goals is to run more races. That’s not to say I want to race more races. That’s not to say I want to PR more races. I just want to run them. The thing is, I have run thousands of miles, but how many of them were under race-day conditions? Ten percent would be a stretch. So how can I expect myself to know how to race an event, without having run very many of them?

This may seem glaringly obvious, but it’s honestly something I rarely thought about. When I started running I didn’t care at all about racing. I was content to run my mileage on my own—away from the stresses a race brings with it. I would still run the distances and the paces but I would run them alone. In fact my first marathon distance was 4 hours of suffering and self-accomplishment alone on the greenway. But over the past few years I’ve grown to love the community and group encouragement races can offer. I feel connected to the other people toeing up to that starting line and passionate about the charities and causes many races represent.

So this year I’m picking a couple key events to run for time and then a bunch of others because the events interest me, or because a friend is running and I want to support them. What do I want out of these events? I’m looking to experience a wide breadth of things and then strategize for when/if they happen in an event that I’m running for time.

For example, last year I was at the starting line of the Rock N’ Roll Country Music Half Marathon in Nashville. I was running to see how fast I could do a half marathon. I had placed myself in the correct corral, tried to put myself around the right people (via the number on my chest), a few rows back from the front of the corral (because I didn’t plan on going out very hard). When they began moving my corral to the starting line I felt confident and relaxed. That is until people from the sidelines began jumping the fence filling in the space between me and the front row. Runners who I can only assume panicked, thinking that this was their corral, or thinking that this was their last chance to start. The only issue is that the people filling in this space belonged in other corrals. Corrals that were 12 groups back. I should have fallen back to the front of the next corral myself. But I didn’t think of this. I didn’t realize that I would get caught behind this massive wave of people for the first 2 or 3 miles, throwing off my expected finish time, and endangering myself and them in the process. Why didn’t I just fall back a corral? Because I hadn’t ever considered that this might happen and falling back only occurred to me after I had already crossed the starting line and found myself trapped.

Now, do I blame the runners who jumped the fence? Not really. The organization and flow of people wasn’t great. The speakers weren’t really loud enough to hear what was going on. And things were just not cut and dry. It was frustrating, but I’m so glad I ran that event and had that experience. I now know what to do when/if that ever happens again.

This is the type of experience that I can’t get in training runs alone. Thousands of people don’t jump fences and pile in front of me just before I start my Garmin on the greenway. I don’t know to prepare for things that I don’t know will happen. The more races I run, the more experience I’ll have, and the better prepared I will be for the races I’m planning to race or PR.

Are you running more races this year? Share your photos and experiences with us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter!