[21] Downtown Double 30K Race Report

I'm going to make this short and sweet. This was a no frills race, and I didn't enjoy it much, so it's probably best if I don't go on at length complaining.

Pre-race

I got up in plenty of time.  I had every intention of starting my day with a healthy, delicious can of sardines and some heavy crackers.  However, my body doesn't like eating anything -- never mind stinky, oily fish -- first thing in the morning.  Instead, I chowed down some almond butter and Ezekiel bread.  I noticed it was raining.

It rained on the drive down, and I smiled because my compulsive punctuality got me near the muster point in enough time to park under an overpass.  I figured I could dry off and change into a dry shirt, which I was smart enough to have packed for once.  After killing a little time, listening to my iPod and then talking with some other runners, I decided to go warm up.  I sipped a little more water, lathered myself up with some Bodyglide, and hit the road.  The weather was pleasant; the rain kept me nice and cool.  I ran from where I parked, around and around pseudo-randomly, and then back to the starting area.  All told, I ran a little over a mile.  That would get me 20 miles for the day, since I knew I probably would not want to run afterward.  Spoiler alert: I was right.

Lap 1

As the starting gun approached, I noticed my Polar RS200 was dying.  Water was getting into the case, and the display was going all wonky.  Within 2 minutes, the screen was blank.  I'm drying it out as I write this, but I think it's finally dead.  This was the cherry on the ice cream sundae of my Sunday.


The Downtown Doubler, as the name suggests, is a two-headed hydra of a race.  You can run the 15K, as most people did, or you can do it a second time and make it 30K.  Since I needed to do 20 miles, you know what race I did.  Everything was great for the first several miles.  The course was flat and straight, which got to be boring, but at this stage of the race [before the first turn-around], life was good.  Heading to the water tower, around mile 3 or so, I felt good and drank just one cup at the first water stop.  Then, from here, we ran into Cox's Park.

Backing up a tad to pre-race, there were only two portable toilets to serve the couple hundred runners, so there was a line.  Like the father of a first grader I am, I decided to get in line for a prophylactic pee -- go now or you'll regret it later --  but we ran out of time. Since there was no chip time -- just gun time -- we had to run, and off I went knowing I'd have to whiz later.  A wise guy next to me said, "Oh well, we're going to be wet anyway."  As the miles piled on, I couldn't get rid of the thought of just peeing my pants and letting the rain wash it away.

Anyway, back to the race.  I finally got my chance to pee at the turn-around, around mile 4 or 5, at the bathrooms in Cox's Park.  I took the opportunity to eat a Gu, also, and wash it down with some sink water.

The run back to the starting line was uneventful.

Lap 2

Just like the unfortunate experience I had with the Derby Marathon, after passing the finish line for the first time, I was dismayed [though not surprised] to find that the vast bulk of my fellow runners were calling it a day after 15 kilometers.  The hardy few doing the 30K were few and far between.  I was running hella slow, too, so I was very lonely in the back of the pack.  The race got boring.  The course didn't vary much -- straight and flat as I said before -- so my mind could really focus on what was going on in my body.  My hip flexors were on fire.  My back ached.  Intermittent pains in my upper body were annoying but not debilitating, and something was starting to happen in my ankles.  At mile 12, I took my first walk break, and I took brief walk breaks every two miles after that.  This sucked.  Did I mention that it was raining?

In the last two miles, I couldn't stop thinking about how stupid this all was.  20 miles is a stupid distance to run in marathon training.  I kept thinking, "This is it. You are not going to run this far again until Chicago. And when you are done here, you'd still have a 10K to run at Chicago!"  I sank into despair.  I caught a glimpse of just how much it's going to hurt after I finish up there.

Post race

Official time: 3:30'08.9".  Bloody awful.

The finish line was a lonely place.  There were few people -- besides race volunteers -- hanging around.  It had rained off and on for the whole three-plus hours of the race, and I guess that had something to do with the dearth of spectators, but still, it was a lonely, lonely finish line.  Before the tore everything down, I grabbed a scrap of a bagel, a granola bar, and two little dixie cups of Gatorade and started limping toward my car.  I had to keep moving so that my hamstrings wouldn't degenerate into charlie horses.  I stretched a little at the car and changed into dry clothes and headed home.

Final thoughts

This is a no-frills race.  There's no swag apart from a long sleeve technical shirt.  There are no crowds.   The only reason I wanted to do this race at all is because it was free and I had to run 20 anyway.  Might as well get a shirt out of the deal, right.  I don't know whether I will run it [the 15K] again, but you never know.

Race Report: Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon

ORN: 26.2 miles in 5:25'10" [bib #1744]. When the race started, the weather was nearly 70° and clear, and when I finished, it was over 80°. Considering the bulk of my training miles were in wintry weather, yes, you could say the weather played a factor in the world-class suck that was my first class marathon. Actually, that's not fair. I cannot just say that it sucked. It was more complicated than that.

Pre-race

After staying out a little too late at the pasta dinner and Balloon Glow, I slept hardly a wink Friday night. I was too excited. When my alarm went off at 4:30, I was ready to go. I quickly dressed and ate two pieces of toast and a Clif Bar. On the drive downtown, I drank 0.6 L of water. [I decided to drink this and be done with it until the race starts so I wouldn't be peeing all day long.] I parked in my office parking lot a few blocks from the finish line and grabbed the shuttle to the start.

On the bus, I got an idea of how freaking long it's going to take me to finish. Downtown receded behind me, and I began to feel the weight of task ahead. The guy sitting next to me, another first-time marathoner, tried to make chit-chat, but I was far away.

Once at the starting line, I did the dance of getting into the potty lines, sitting around trying to keep calm, and then getting back into the potty lines. I was fabulously hydrated heading into the race. Hydration was to be the least of my problems today.

Fidgety, I tried to stay off my feet and ignore how warm it was already. I tried to find my calm center, but it was elusive. For one thing I felt cold. I was shivery in my American Cancer Society singlet even though it was around 60°. The shivers came from nerves, I guess. After one last long stand in the bathroom line, we were off. It took 15 minutes for me to get to the starting line after the gun.

Notable events here: my last experience with a clean porta-potty, numerous Elvii, and several other people in costumes. Fun!

Miles 0-12

I'm not going to do the usual thing you see in a lot of race reports and divide everything up into nice, even sections. I'm going to describe the race as I experienced it. The first half was a breeze. I loved it. The crowds were huge and very supportive. There were a few bands and lots of booming speakers blasting music. Notable among these musical interludes were the jazz band in Old Louisville, around mile 10, and the Doors cover band near the split.

The best mile of the whole day was mile 9, the jog through Churchill Downs. Running underneath the twin spires while the thoroughbreds finish their morning workouts makes this is a great race in my book.

Anyway, I could go on and on about the great crowd support all through this section but in the interest of brevity I'll just say it was a large reason why this section of the race was a blur. It was just easy, fun, people-watching up to The Split.

Miles 12-18

At 4th and Breckenridge Streets, the race course splits. The half marathoners head toward the finish line, and the marathoners begin the second half of their day. [Aside: the "mini" is the BIG race. The crowd assumes everyone is running the mini and shouts things like "two more miles" at mile 11. And for the marathoners... well, you can imagine how annoying that gets.] After the split, the crowds for the marathon portion of the race evaporate. Apart from a few handfuls of people and the water table volunteers, this was a lonely section of the race. No bands, no cowbells, no banners. Just the road stretching on forever.

The abrupt lack of crowd support probably contributed to this section of the race being the turning point. With nothing to look at and nobody cheering and the heat starting to really bake us, the race began to really suck.

The highlight of this section is running through Cherokee Park. Whereas the race up to that point had been mainly flat once we were out of Iroquois Park, now the hills resumed. That sucked too, but at least it broke up the monotony. I noticed my feet started really hurting in the park. I mean, serious pain, especially in my left plantar fascia. And I had this strange series of spasmodic cramps along my inner thighs, but they didn't last long.

After leaving the park, I abandoned my plan of running two miles and then walking a minute. I also highly modified my hydration plan. Rather than metering my water carefully so I wasn't peeing every 20 feet, I just drank and drank and drank. The race was now a game of survival. I just had to do the best I could. I felt like I was dying. Figuratively, anyway.

Miles 18-21

This brief section was when despair started to set in. I don't know if I was hitting the wall at that point, but I felt I had nothing left in me. There was no question that I was still going to finish the race. But I gave up all pretense of doing it in any sort of elegant fashion. It was going to be slow, ugly, brutal, unpleasant, and almost impossibly hard. What marked the endpoint of this awful section was seeing my friends Helga & Chris and their kids.

Helga & Chris had already finished the half and were showered and fresh and walking their kids back to their car. I assumed they'd even been home already by this point. In any case, they all cheered and gave me high fives. That, by itself, lightened my load a bit. But then Helga ran with me for about a half mile until I turned to climb the Clark Memorial Bridge. As we ran together, first she called my Wife and told her I looked great. Then, she gave me all sorts of encouraging words that brought lifted my spirit to about 25% [from <1%]. style="font-weight: bold;">Miles 22-24

Helga's good vibes carried me about 300 feet, just beyond the base of the bridge. The long hill of the Clark Memorial was just starting when it became abundantly clear that I still had a long way to go. At this point, I was walking a quarter mile and then shuffling/jogging a quarter mile or so. I was going damned slow. My feet hurt bad. My traps were aflame from the mere effort of moving my arms back and forth for nearly five hours. Would this race never end?

Miles 24-26.2

Passing the 24 mile marker was no comfort. Every step was a painful struggle. I was talking to myself out loud at this point. "I gotta get over this bridge," I'd tell myself. Then it was, "I'm gonna get over this bridge." Then, "I'm going to run to Market Street." As I passed Market and looked west, I could see the finish line and the race party area. I saw the beer tent. Those bastards had better still have beer.

I was making deals with myself. OK, just run to Chestnut now. Stop and stretch. OK, now run to 4th. Have to walk. OK, finish strong and run down 7th to the finish. One last walk break. [These are mere blocks I'm talking about here, tenths of miles.] Finally, around 7th and Liberty [where I work] I picked up the pace and decided to run it on out.

I saw my wife between Jefferson and Market, right before the final turn, and that lifted my spirits tremendously. She handed me a key chain that had 26.2 on it. That was all I needed.

Smiling, hands in the air, my whole body in open revolt, I crossed the finish line. I began to weep.

Post-race

That's right, I began to weep right after I got my medal. I wept the whole way through the chute, which was, thankfully, about a block long. That gave me enough time to get the weeping out of my system and "man up" for pictures. I wept because I hurt. I wept because I was able to stop running. I wept because I achieved my goal. I wept because I was done.

Two things make me weep spontaneously now: Mr. Rogers and finishing marathons.

At the party tent, I turned in my medal to get engraved and found the beer tent. I threw down the best glass of Michelob Ultra [ick] ever and turned back to go find Wifey. I kept moving because my hamstrings wanted to cramp up. Finally, we ran into each other and kissed.

She made me a basket with all sorts of goodies in it. There were peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Clif Bars, naproxin, a 26.2 car magnet, epsom salts, pain relieving sports creme, and beer. I tore into a sandwich. My recovery began.

Finished 872nd out of 1,076 overall, 595th out of 710 males, and 99th out of 114 males 35-39.

Tuesday: more post-race stuff and my marathon lessons learned.

Why do I do this?

ORN: Not feeling very good today [tummy issues], I nevertheless ran because that's what I do. Adequately fueled and hydrated, I ran my planned four miles in 39'02".

The Spirit of the Marathon cosplayers at The Runners' Lounge are forcing me to write about blogging. I say forcing because I cannot think of anything to write about today, yet I would never choose to blog about blogging on my own. I think writing about writing is pretty dull to read, and blogging about blogging makes me feel downright dirty. Proceed with care. This post may be more boring than usual. So, why do I blog? A few reasons spring to mind.

• Blogging is yet another means of tracking my progress. I have a pen-and-paper log wherein I scribble facts and figures about my training, but that tool fails to capture the story of my running life. It just captures data. My blog is where I think out loud about running and play with ideas. Whereas with my paper logs, I can review past performances, with the blog I can look back and see how my attitudes have changed over time.
• Blogging allows me to interact with people who share my interests. It's a lot different trying to make friends when you are 38 and working, with a family, from when you are a teenager, in school and surrounded by people just like you. Very few of my friends run, so there are limits to how much I can bond with people in meatspace about this stuff. Blogging lets me ask and answer questions and learn from others. This yields very concrete training benefits, because what I learn usually translates into performance gains.
  
• Blogging serves as an outlet for my writing. I have a deep-down need to write and publish, and for better or worse, the internet makes that easy. If I don't run, I can't write about it, so in a round about way, blogging serves a motivation tool that keeps me running.
  
• Very occasionally, blogging nets me free stuff. But these blessed events are too infrequent to be true incentives.
  

Five workouts to go

ORN: Maybe I shouldn't have, but today I did a tempo run at a target 8'30"/mile pace. Needless to say, I am happy with the split times below. All together, with warm up and cool down, I ran five miles in 45'35". I wanted to have one "quality" workout before I totally veg out next week. With this workout behind me, I've got five more to go [27 miles worth] before the marathon.

Splits:

1. 10'04"
2. 8'36"
3. 8'34"
4. 8'30"
5. 9'48"

The workout itself was fun and a much-needed break from the day, even though I was hissed at by a goose.

Thinking out loud

ORN: Today, I had one of those days where all I can say is "at least I ran." I was tired, my legs were heavy-feeling, and I had little energy. It might have been the Monty Python Holy Grail Ale last night, or it might just be fatigue. Either way, I am glad that's over. That's seven miles I'll never have to do again [1:09'44"].

Yesterday, I took a Mental Health Day; the family and I went to Mammoth Cave and did the Historic Tour. We had a good time, but naturally, my sick mind kept drifting back to running as I hiked 300 feet below the surface. What if there was a 5K race in the cave? Surely there are three continuous miles of reasonably safe trail somewhere down there. Oooh! Oooh! And turn out the lights! Everybody in headlamps. Or what about a Marathon? It'd never happen in a million years, if only for liability reasons, but it was fun to think about during the boring parts of the tour.

Get faster the Viking Running™®© way

ORN: Today, I sped across the Clark Memorial Bridge, running the Indiana portion of the KDF Marathon. It turned out to be a hard five mile out-and-back, which I squeezed out in a nice 47'08". I paid for it though. My right hip is sore, deep in the joint.

The semi-autonomous knowbots over at the Runners' Lounge have issued a command: write about getting faster. By your command, I respond.

What I know about getting faster I could fit into an unopened can of sardines. But still, somehow, almost without trying, I have gone from being a consistent 10'30" runner six months ago to being a consistent sub-10' runner now. Yesterday, in fact, I ran six miles at an 8'55" average pace, a feat I'm apparently not through bragging about. [Yesterday, I ran six miles at an 8'55" average pace. Rolls right off the tongue.] Anyway, I cannot say that I have faithfully run regular speed workouts, nor can I say that I have put 100% effort into the ones I did. As far as I can tell, I can chalk up my speed improvements to just two things.

1) I'm running consistently. Since the beginning of the year, nearly three solid months now, I have not missed a single workout. Nor have I cut a workout short. I've run 100% on schedule. Since this consistency is correlated to my improved speed, I am tempted to believe there is a causal relationship, but I know that way lies bad science.Still, in the previous couple years of my running career, my performance never got better than 10'30" or 10'20" per mile, and my running was never consistent for more than three or four weeks in a row. Draw your own conclusions.

2) I'm running lots of hills. Almost all of my workouts during the week are on flat trails, but on Saturdays, my long runs have all been very hilly. I've also tried to run across one of the downtown bridges -- essentially a long-ass hill -- once a week or so. And I haven't wussed out on these hills; I attacked them, giving them a strong effort each time. In fact, I now look forward to hills to break up the tedium of long runs.

Now, faithful readers, I admit I have done the occasional interval workout [probably two this year], a fartlek or two, and an unplanned tempo workout now and then. This is all technically speed work, I guess. But it's been mostly spontaneous, half-hearted, and seldom repeated from one week to the next. In other words, I believe my simple formula of running consistently four times a week and doing hills at least once a week is almost entirely responsible for my improved performance.

Your mileage may vary.

We're mass communicatin' now!

ORN: Today was what the rave run tag is for. Despite the gloomy, rainy weather, I had a great run today. I ran a personal-best in the 10K, 55'18". I'll save you from doing the math; that's an 8'55" average pace. But more than being a speedy run, with me feeling faster and stronger with each mile, today's workout just felt good. Everything clicked. Everything fell into place. I couldn't believe what my body was doing, and then it just kept doing more. Amazing.

Long-time readers know that one of my life-goals is to become huge on the Internet, an online celebrity more along the lines of Wil Wheaton than the Star Wars Kid. Today, I am one step closer to immortality. My first podcasting experience is now online. I participated in a discussion with Amy from Runners' Lounge and BigB from BigB on the Road, on the subject of Getting Started Running. Download it here.

Also, if you plan to run the 2009 Chicago Marathon, I'll see you there. I signed up last night. My buddy, Chris, and I are going to do it. We're going to drive or fly up there, depending on cost, and drag our wives along for a fun couples mini-vacation of sorts. In other words, while Chris and I suffer through 26.2 miles along Lake Michigan, the gals will be sitting somewhere comfortable, sipping wine and cocktails, laughing at us. For this race, I'm going to sign up as a fundraiser for the American Cancer Society. I hope to raise at least $1,000. More on that in a few months.

Wind sucks

ORN: The wind blew in my face throughout the whole 3 miles today -- 29'24" of pure joy. Just to mix things up, I ran east instead of west along the river and got a good look at the Belle of Louisville and Waterfront Park. I would have admired the view more if my eyes weren't gushing tears, trying to avoid freezing into marbles.

On Saturday, I have my first meeting with my winter running group. I can't wait. I hope I don't get talked into running too far. They are good at that.

I ran to Indiana today

ORN: Today, I decided to mix things up and tackle at least one hill by running out across the Clark Memorial Bridge and back. Three miles in 30'11". I ran noticeably slower today because a) it's my third workout in a row, 2) I'm tired, and 3) I have a race Saturday. I wanted to work out, but I didn't want to kill myself before I got a chance to do it this weekend.

The worst thing about today's run was the weather, which was colder than it has been lately with a significant wind. That was a recipe for suffering on the bridge, 50 feet above a river. Something about the altitude and the gigantic body of water made it feel extra cold. I even wore my tights today and was cold until about halfway through. The best thing about the run was that I felt really good on the return leg.

Off-topic. Ladies, it's 33° and you are wearing flip-flops? Really?

Taking it to the streets

ORN: I went crazy and ran through downtown rather than doing my usual RiverWalk thing. I needed to mix it up because the thought of running my usual trail had me feeling like skipping my run. I ran 3.1 miles in 30'29", which was slower than I felt. But I guess stopping/slowing at all those cross walks played a role in that. It had the effect, I noticed, of being something like a fartlek workout. I'd come to an intersection, have to slow or stop, then take off to cross the street. Then, propelled by my momentum, I might run faster than usual halfway through the block until I would decelerate to the next intersection. It probably wasn't an orthodox fartlek workout, if there is such a thing, but I'm tagging this one speed work nonetheless.

I'm so glad the weather is cool now. Running in 40°-50° temperatures is nearly perfect for me. I don't mind colder, but the hot temperatures of spring and summer sap my energy too much. Cold weather helps keep me on an even keel and keeps my sweating down. I also think I run faster in the cold, and I think if I spent enough time with the data I could prove that.

Don't get me wrong. Cold rain sucks, and November is typically a rainy part of the year where I live. It also sucks getting out of a roasty-toasty bed and my flannel pajamas and into the dark, chilly morning air. Running in the cold under a bright moon and sky full of stars rocks my world, but breaking out of that comfortable, snuggly cocoon of Bed is something I often fail at. That's why I haven't been doing my long runs lately. Bed has a strong gravity field when it's cold out. I hope my winter-time running group starts up soon. I'm much better at keeping commitments to other people.

Go east, young nerd

ORN: Today, after a tough 20 minute pilates workout, I ran 3.0 miles in 31'47". Today, I ran east, rather than my usual west, along the River and got to get startled out of my wits by the Star of Jefferson's steam whistle.

I took it much easier today after yesterday's tough slog. Don't want to over do it with a race on Saturday. Besides, I've not been sleeping well lately; I'm wicked tired. I ask Lord Ganesha, lately appearing in Queens for one restful night without a vomiting dog, hungry child, nervous wife hearing things, or squeaky-wheel-running hamster.

Tomorrow, I will probably run two miles. Then if I do a warm up and cool down on race day, I ought to manage an even 12 miles for the week, which will be great.

Watching demolition is fun

ORN: Today, I ran 2.5 miles in 26'39", partly crossing the Ohio at the George Rogers Clark Memorial Bridge. I felt good and strong. While going up that mighty span, I watched the demolition of the old LG&E property at 2nd and Main. That was cool. Tomorrow, I think if I am going to run at all, I am going to have to run before work, which sucks.

Oh, by the way, if you want to, you can go to my home page and become one of my followers [a.k.a. My Horde]. Look at the sidebar on the right. This is a new Blogger feature, and I don't quite know what its value is to you or me. Just do me a favor if you are reading this, "follow" me in the widget so I don't feel so gosh-darned lonely.