I ran yesterday, and I have a plan to run today. I'm 100% compliant with my new running plan so far, and my attitude is slowly improving. Instead of not really thinking about running, my mind is telling me "You owe us a mile today -- just a mile. Fast or slow, you have to run one mile today." I'll get it done today while my kiddo runs cross country. I'm thinking I will do a hard mile and see how that feels.
My extrinsic motivation is in the form of my running plan tacked to my cubicle wall. It says run 2 miles on Monday [did it], one mile today [will do], and two more tomorrow. All in all, it's ten miles this week and eleven the next. But to what end? What does my end goal look like? It looks like me about 15 pounds lighter, as I am at the peak of marathon training. It looks like me answering, proudly, when people ask how much I run, "Forty miles a week." It looks like me, lean and sleek, running all over the city.
Perhaps I should find a race. Wifey has given me the green light. Her pregnancy is healthy and progressing normally, and her morning sickness is managable. She's all but encouraged me to go race [and take the kid.] But I don't want to run a 5K. I don't want to deal with the walkers and strollers and stuff. I want to find at least a 10K. It's too late for me to train for the Downtown Doubler 15K, and we may not be in town for the YMCA Turkey Trot in November. Hmm. Time to check out the race calendars.
Showing posts with label racing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label racing. Show all posts
2010-09-14
2010-06-14
Indian/Celina afterthoughts
Today, just two days after the event, my inbox contained an email from the race director containing links to a post-event survey, to the race results, and to the Picasa Web Album wherein you can find snapshots of the race victims. That is great service. I cannot complain about anything related to the race, its management, the locale, the volunteers, or anything. The race was managed phenomenally well, and I am not just saying that because I placed first in my age group. Did I mention that I placed first in my AG? I placed first in my AG.
My biggest lesson from this race was that I need to get into much better shape. I need to train my upper body, especially. I have no muscle tone whatsoever up top. Some muscle upstairs would have helped me pull myself up those hills. More hill work would have strengthened my legs enough to manage that bitch of a 3 mile climb. All it would take is 20-30 minutes a night of core work and push ups and more hills and trails during the week. Honestly, it wouldn't have taken much additional work to have made my race experience less ... um... humbling.
But I can't wait for next year. This was a fun, fun race. I strongly recommend it.
2010-06-12
Indian/Celina Challenge Race Report
Small races can be the best races, and the Indian/Celina Challenge is a perfect example. It's the sort of race that lets a chubby slob like me win first in my age group, for instance. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. I have to tell you why this race impressed me even before I arrived at the trail head. A week or two before the race, we received a race manual via email. It talked about what to expect on race day, the gear check process, the shuttle service, and what's available to eat after we finish. Standard stuff, right? The race manual also had very helpful tidbits like that black flies were a big nuisance right now, and we should spray ourselves and wear hats unless we want buzzing company for 8, 13.1, or 26.2 miles. This proved to be invaluable but ultimately meaningless advice, as I will go into soon. Oh hell, let's get on with it.
Pre-race
Leading up to the race, I was afraid I would be running trails in a thunderstorm. Though it rained the day and night before the race, this morning was cloudy, humid, and foggy, but the rain stayed away. Thank gods for that. A muddier race would have been awful. I arrived a little later than I had hoped. I hastily parked, grabbed my gear, and sped to the shuttle that took us from the parking area to the start. I brought with me my hydration belt and my keys. I thought about other things I would need, but I was wise to rush out without this extra clutter. I was burdened enough with what I had. The shuttles were frequent and speedy. We quickly found ourselves in the starting area, and I stood in line for the loo. Like every race I have been in these past couple years, even though I went to the bathroom a half-dozen times this morning, 3 minutes before the start I had to pee badly. No worries. I got in and out and was ready when the race director yelled GO!
Miles 0-3
This race bragged about how tough it was on its web page. This bragging was warranted. This was tough-going. Up and down like a bride's nightie and tons of mud. Parts of the trail were like chocolate pudding with boulders in it. And little streams and creeks every quarter mile or so. This wasn't what made it so hard though. Hills are hills. But the humidity must have been near 100%. I was soaked within 10 minutes, and I stayed that way until I got in my car later on and blasted the air conditioning. I felt like I was underwater. But life didn't really get unpleasant until the 8-milers [my people] split off from the marathoners and half-marathoners [the god-people.]
Miles 4-6
After an aid station with delicious, delicious Gatorade at mile 3.5 or so, we split. The eight mile course turned onto an access road, and this was the most unpleasant part of the whole day. When I say it was uphill the whole way, you might think, "Oh, he's exaggerating." But I want you to believe me when I say that it was a nearly constant uphill grade for nearly three miles. On coarse, loose gravel. Honestly, I walked most of it, because I felt like this race had beaten me. The half-marathoners were seeing some country, enjoying their trails, and here I was sucking wind up a goddamn gravel road, orbited by a damned black fly. I hated that fly. And I sweat. And I sweat. [Obviously I had long sweat off my bug spray.] But all good things must come to an end. The gravel road emptied onto a paved road, and we were back on the trails, so to speak.
Miles 7-8
After a brief road jog, we ducked back onto the trail. After the long walk uphill, the trails were easy going. I still walked up the hills, but I was feeling much better these last two miles than I had felt all day. I was more confident; I felt strong. There's nothing more to tell about this part of the race. We exited the trail and ran downhill to the finish line. When I approached the "chute" [such as it was], the race volunteer asked me to call out the last three digits of my number. When I did, she said I was first place in my age group and handed me a Sigg bottle with the race logo painted on it. Awesome. I walked about a third of the race, and I still finished first in my AG? I'm not asking questions.
Post race
After finishing, my first thought was to tear off my shoes. They were soaked and thickly covered in mud, as was everything below my knee. [I ran in Nike Frees. Running in Vibram Sprints would have been a disaster. The Nike Frees weren't great to run in, but at least they shielded me from the endless gravel and tree roots.] After shedding my shoes, I wolfed down a couple burgers. They had a grill going, and that was awesome. If they had beer, I would have been hugging people. I appreciated the cheeseburgers, though. Not many races have that. I hung out for a while, watching some of the marathoners prepare for their second lap around the half marathon course. After my feet dried out for a while, I found myself wanting a bath and home.
Final thoughts
This is a supremely well-managed, well-executed race. I loved getting the manual long before race day so I could prepare. I loved the communication from the race director. He was super. The course was well marked. The volunteers [the local cross country team, which the race director coaches] were superb. Even though the gravel part sucked, I still had a great morning. I look forward to running the half marathon next year. You ought to think about it, too.
Pre-race
Leading up to the race, I was afraid I would be running trails in a thunderstorm. Though it rained the day and night before the race, this morning was cloudy, humid, and foggy, but the rain stayed away. Thank gods for that. A muddier race would have been awful. I arrived a little later than I had hoped. I hastily parked, grabbed my gear, and sped to the shuttle that took us from the parking area to the start. I brought with me my hydration belt and my keys. I thought about other things I would need, but I was wise to rush out without this extra clutter. I was burdened enough with what I had. The shuttles were frequent and speedy. We quickly found ourselves in the starting area, and I stood in line for the loo. Like every race I have been in these past couple years, even though I went to the bathroom a half-dozen times this morning, 3 minutes before the start I had to pee badly. No worries. I got in and out and was ready when the race director yelled GO!
Miles 0-3
This race bragged about how tough it was on its web page. This bragging was warranted. This was tough-going. Up and down like a bride's nightie and tons of mud. Parts of the trail were like chocolate pudding with boulders in it. And little streams and creeks every quarter mile or so. This wasn't what made it so hard though. Hills are hills. But the humidity must have been near 100%. I was soaked within 10 minutes, and I stayed that way until I got in my car later on and blasted the air conditioning. I felt like I was underwater. But life didn't really get unpleasant until the 8-milers [my people] split off from the marathoners and half-marathoners [the god-people.]
Miles 4-6
After an aid station with delicious, delicious Gatorade at mile 3.5 or so, we split. The eight mile course turned onto an access road, and this was the most unpleasant part of the whole day. When I say it was uphill the whole way, you might think, "Oh, he's exaggerating." But I want you to believe me when I say that it was a nearly constant uphill grade for nearly three miles. On coarse, loose gravel. Honestly, I walked most of it, because I felt like this race had beaten me. The half-marathoners were seeing some country, enjoying their trails, and here I was sucking wind up a goddamn gravel road, orbited by a damned black fly. I hated that fly. And I sweat. And I sweat. [Obviously I had long sweat off my bug spray.] But all good things must come to an end. The gravel road emptied onto a paved road, and we were back on the trails, so to speak.
Miles 7-8
After a brief road jog, we ducked back onto the trail. After the long walk uphill, the trails were easy going. I still walked up the hills, but I was feeling much better these last two miles than I had felt all day. I was more confident; I felt strong. There's nothing more to tell about this part of the race. We exited the trail and ran downhill to the finish line. When I approached the "chute" [such as it was], the race volunteer asked me to call out the last three digits of my number. When I did, she said I was first place in my age group and handed me a Sigg bottle with the race logo painted on it. Awesome. I walked about a third of the race, and I still finished first in my AG? I'm not asking questions.
Post race
After finishing, my first thought was to tear off my shoes. They were soaked and thickly covered in mud, as was everything below my knee. [I ran in Nike Frees. Running in Vibram Sprints would have been a disaster. The Nike Frees weren't great to run in, but at least they shielded me from the endless gravel and tree roots.] After shedding my shoes, I wolfed down a couple burgers. They had a grill going, and that was awesome. If they had beer, I would have been hugging people. I appreciated the cheeseburgers, though. Not many races have that. I hung out for a while, watching some of the marathoners prepare for their second lap around the half marathon course. After my feet dried out for a while, I found myself wanting a bath and home.
Final thoughts
This is a supremely well-managed, well-executed race. I loved getting the manual long before race day so I could prepare. I loved the communication from the race director. He was super. The course was well marked. The volunteers [the local cross country team, which the race director coaches] were superb. Even though the gravel part sucked, I still had a great morning. I look forward to running the half marathon next year. You ought to think about it, too.
2010-06-02
I almost stepped on Mothra
I received the race manual for the Indian/Celina Challenge that I am running on the 12th. I love these smaller races. This is a race that prides itself "on being nearly sponsor-free." [All quotes herein lifted from the manual.] I can expect a shirt and one or two other doo-dads, but not a bag full of crap most of which I'll end up throwing away. There will be no bibs or chips. Our numbers will be written on our hands or arms at the starting line, and volunteers will keep track of us at aid stations to make sure everyone stays honest. Awesome.
The Challenge has a full marathon, a half mary, and an eight miler. I'm doing the eight miler. Given my limited experience with trail running, that's as much as I feel comfortable doing.
The starting time for all three races is 6:30 AM. We eight-milers will follow the marathoners for the first four miles before splitting off. I should expect the course to be up and down, up and down, with creek crossings and big rocks on the trail. We are warned, "DO NOT EXPECT TO SET A PERSONAL BEST!! The course is difficult and your overall time will reflect this."
After the race, they will be grilling burgers and hot dogs for us. Honestly, I think this sounds as fun as a bucket of puppies. I cannot wait to see what this race is going to be like. It sounds wild.
Today, I ran 2.5 easy miles around my neighborhood in Vibram
s. I took it slow and enjoyed the fog, the half moon, and the cool temperature. I saw 1,000 rabbits and one butterfly as big as my hand. I'm not joking. It was 4-5 inches across, brown, with big spots like eyes on the bottom wings. I'd try to identify it but that sounds boring. I'll just call it Mothra. I saw Mothra on my run. No Mothra fairies, though.
The Challenge has a full marathon, a half mary, and an eight miler. I'm doing the eight miler. Given my limited experience with trail running, that's as much as I feel comfortable doing.
The starting time for all three races is 6:30 AM. We eight-milers will follow the marathoners for the first four miles before splitting off. I should expect the course to be up and down, up and down, with creek crossings and big rocks on the trail. We are warned, "DO NOT EXPECT TO SET A PERSONAL BEST!! The course is difficult and your overall time will reflect this."
After the race, they will be grilling burgers and hot dogs for us. Honestly, I think this sounds as fun as a bucket of puppies. I cannot wait to see what this race is going to be like. It sounds wild.
Today, I ran 2.5 easy miles around my neighborhood in Vibram
s. I took it slow and enjoyed the fog, the half moon, and the cool temperature. I saw 1,000 rabbits and one butterfly as big as my hand. I'm not joking. It was 4-5 inches across, brown, with big spots like eyes on the bottom wings. I'd try to identify it but that sounds boring. I'll just call it Mothra. I saw Mothra on my run. No Mothra fairies, though.
2010-05-17
Cherokee Park 5 Miler race report
I meant to post this over the weekend, but I went camping and chose hiking in rain and thunder over typing.
Saturday, I ran my first small race in a while. Small in terms of distance, and small in terms of intimacy. This trail race series is put on by The Trail Store, a local outdoors store. There were only about 100 participants. There were no t-shirts, no medals, no cheering throngs -- just a starting line [two orange pylons], a well-marked course, and a aid station at the three mile mark. Just get ready, get set, and go.
The course was difficult for me, though to an experienced trail runner, I'm sure it was cake. I am not an experienced trail runner, so I was huffing and puffing toward the end. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. The race started in the rugby field at the bottom of the Scenic Loop. Everyone lined up, Jim the race director said go, and we went. In a couple hundred feet, we were shuffling down a slightly muddy single track. Being a slowpoke, I started toward the back of the pack. That turned out to be a mistake, because I found myself stuck behind these two super-slowpokes running a 13-minute/mile pace. I was sandwiched between an iPod-wearing couple and a tribe of women that wanted to run faster and were fiercely breathing down my neck. I hate this kind of pressure. After a mile of this stress, we found a clearing. I took off and never saw any of them again.
Most of the course was tricky single track, up and down like a bride's nightie, interspersed with occasional clearings like the one I mentioned, allowing people to make their moves. Sometimes we crossed the street to get to another wooded area, but most of the track was in dense wood.
The morning air was not yet intolerably hot and stuffy. In fact, I found the weather pleasant unless I was in the direct sunlight.
At mile three, I was starting to wear down. The constant hills and switchbacks were taking a toll, accustomed as I am to running on flat asphalt. I drank heavily at the aid station and resumed. The last two miles seemed to be toughest, terrain-wise. The trail was extremely hilly and rough. Though the trails in Cherokee Park are well maintained, there are still some rocky, rooty, nasty parts, and these seemed to be all packed together in the last miles of the race. As tough as it was, as tired as I was, and as many walk breaks as I took at this stage, the last two miles were still my favorite of the whole race. That's when I finally relaxed enough to really enjoy what I was doing.
Several times toward the end, I found myself surprised by the beauty of lovely little springs and ferny rock outcroppings. I was losing myself in the trail, and it was great. But as it was only a five miler, the end drew near too soon. I ended the race, finishing almost dead last. The other 97% of the runners who had already finished cheered me on politely.
I think I finished at 59'40" or thereabouts. There were door prizes instead of medals or t-shirts. All in all, it was a fun, laid-back sort of race, and I cannot wait to run my next race in this series. If nothing changes, that will be the Stilstone Half Marathon in November. But there are at least two other races in the series, I am curious about.
But my next race is the Indian/Celina 8 miler in Hoosier National Forest next month.
Saturday, I ran my first small race in a while. Small in terms of distance, and small in terms of intimacy. This trail race series is put on by The Trail Store, a local outdoors store. There were only about 100 participants. There were no t-shirts, no medals, no cheering throngs -- just a starting line [two orange pylons], a well-marked course, and a aid station at the three mile mark. Just get ready, get set, and go.
The course was difficult for me, though to an experienced trail runner, I'm sure it was cake. I am not an experienced trail runner, so I was huffing and puffing toward the end. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. The race started in the rugby field at the bottom of the Scenic Loop. Everyone lined up, Jim the race director said go, and we went. In a couple hundred feet, we were shuffling down a slightly muddy single track. Being a slowpoke, I started toward the back of the pack. That turned out to be a mistake, because I found myself stuck behind these two super-slowpokes running a 13-minute/mile pace. I was sandwiched between an iPod-wearing couple and a tribe of women that wanted to run faster and were fiercely breathing down my neck. I hate this kind of pressure. After a mile of this stress, we found a clearing. I took off and never saw any of them again.
Most of the course was tricky single track, up and down like a bride's nightie, interspersed with occasional clearings like the one I mentioned, allowing people to make their moves. Sometimes we crossed the street to get to another wooded area, but most of the track was in dense wood.
The morning air was not yet intolerably hot and stuffy. In fact, I found the weather pleasant unless I was in the direct sunlight.
At mile three, I was starting to wear down. The constant hills and switchbacks were taking a toll, accustomed as I am to running on flat asphalt. I drank heavily at the aid station and resumed. The last two miles seemed to be toughest, terrain-wise. The trail was extremely hilly and rough. Though the trails in Cherokee Park are well maintained, there are still some rocky, rooty, nasty parts, and these seemed to be all packed together in the last miles of the race. As tough as it was, as tired as I was, and as many walk breaks as I took at this stage, the last two miles were still my favorite of the whole race. That's when I finally relaxed enough to really enjoy what I was doing.
Several times toward the end, I found myself surprised by the beauty of lovely little springs and ferny rock outcroppings. I was losing myself in the trail, and it was great. But as it was only a five miler, the end drew near too soon. I ended the race, finishing almost dead last. The other 97% of the runners who had already finished cheered me on politely.
I think I finished at 59'40" or thereabouts. There were door prizes instead of medals or t-shirts. All in all, it was a fun, laid-back sort of race, and I cannot wait to run my next race in this series. If nothing changes, that will be the Stilstone Half Marathon in November. But there are at least two other races in the series, I am curious about.
But my next race is the Indian/Celina 8 miler in Hoosier National Forest next month.
2010-04-25
KDF Mini Marathon Race Report
This was a big race, and I had a lot of fun, so I will get right to it.
The good
The good
- The weather concerned me all week. Thunderstorms and hail and even tornadoes were possible. Even as late at the morning of the race, all sorts of ugliness was in the forecast. So, bedecked in my finest black trash bag, I headed to work, where I could safely and conveniently park, and walked over to the shuttle bus area. At that time of morning, it was drizzling, but since the temperature was mild, it wasn't uncomfortable to me. As race time drew near, the drizzle cleared up. And as the miles ticked by, the sun even peeked out. I worried about getting a sunburn since I didn't apply sunscreen, thinking I'd be running in a thunderstorm. The fine weather held out through the morning until I finally left the post-race party.
- The faithful Louisville crowds came out, albeit in smaller numbers, despite the lousy weather. All along the course, there were enthusiastic cheering throngs, a few crazy urban outdoors-men, and a lots of bands and DJs. In fact, around where the course passes under I-264, the DJ was blasting out James Brown, and that was the first and only time during the race I wanted to stop. Great stuff.
- Speaking of good people, a buddy had a beer check for us after mile 11. That was perfect timing and much appreciated, even though it was Bud Light. Thanks Kotex. On the subject of beer, I wish we could get a yummier beer provider than Michelob Ultra for the beer tent. The Chicago marathon had Goose Island. But free beer is free beer and it was cold so I was grateful. Thanks!
- Once again, the engravers were right there and did a first rate job carving our times into the medals. Thanks!
The bad
- I don't think there were sufficient shuttles for the 15,000 runners. The lines for the buses stretched around the block, and even toward the end, seemed to loop around themselves in a city-block sized spiral. We nervously watched the time as their advertised time for the end of shuttle service approached. Would we make it? Would runners get left behind? In the nick of time, I made it onto a shuttle, but last year, arriving at the same time, I walked right onto a bus. I don't know what the difference was this year, but that was not a good way to start our day.
- I don't think there were sufficient bathrooms for us in the starting area. I arrived 40 minutes before the starting gun, and the lines were out of control. But I figured (wrongly) that I had sufficient time. It took about 50 minutes to get to the head of the line, and behind me there was a line at least as long. I started the race 12 minutes late, but since it was chip-timed, it didn't matter. Still, it was more stress.
- In response to complaints and construction going on downtown, the race organizers famously changed the course this year. One big change was the approach into Iroquois Park, and that was well done. No longer were runners running into each other coming and going. But the changes downtown were mostly bad. I didn't mind the long run eastward from 7th, but we got looped around between two construction sites. Not only was it ugly in there, the road constricted uncomfortably. I realize the construction was out of the race officials' hands, but I still think it was unpleasant for an event meant to showcase how wonderful Louisville is.
- The chute was a mess. We were shunted through one of our waterfront parks to another adjacent one, and that was OK, but all anybody wanted was the beer tent and the runner reunite area. That area was a quarter mile away or more. Plus, once we got there, the beer line bisected the rectangle of the park area where the post-race party was. Therefore, you couldn't go north or south without crossing the beer line, which is annoying for all involved.
I finished the day with a time of 2:28'05", which was not great, but it was as much as I could expect given how poorly I trained. Seriously, I averaged 10-12 miles all winter, and there were several weeks of zero miles. I got what I deserved. Though I walked more than I would have liked, I finished. Up until the end, I ran joyfully. I ended up running with the hope of the next walking break [every two miles]. I practiced running meditation, I practiced shortening my stride and increasing my turnover on uphills, and a practiced running joyfully. A mantra I repeated often was "I get to run today!" Another was "This is great!" I approached the race as a training run rather than a competition with myself. That helped me make good out of a poor performance. Being someone who's had depression his whole life, staying positive was a hard exercise, but I am pleased with how I did.
That's the bottom line. I am pleased with how I did. Clearly I could have trained better and raced better, but I didn't and everything still worked out. Life is good.
2010-04-23
Bring it on
Yesterday, I went to the KDF Marathon/Mini-Marathon expo to pick up my race packet. The expo was fairly typical for this event, but as I wasn't in the market for any new running gear, I passed through it fairly quickly. The race packet itself is worth discussing.
, I passed through it fairly quickly. The race packet itself is worth discussing.- Shirts - Both shirts were technical tees
- Paper - My packet was filled with the usual crap, slick ads for other races and whatnot. I wish you could either opt out of these things, or I wish there was a way to recycle them at the expo. What about a virtual race packet where you get all that crap via email? Almost all of this printed matter ended up in my recycle bin at home. Not very Earth Day, race people. :(
- Bib number - My bib number is 7814, Corral B. The chips are taped to the bib, and so there isn't that logjam at the end of the race to cut off timing chips. I love that. Whatever cuts down on delays in the chute and gets me to the beer
coupon. I also received a wrist band to get me into the Corporate Tent, whatever that is. Perhaps there will be free beer in that, too.
- Goodies - Also included in the gear check bag was a small tube of Shave Secret
, which I use and love. Also included was a small bottle of Rohto Cool
eye drops. I tried the eye drops this morning, and they made my eyes burn with the heat of a thousand suns. Not recommended.
2009-10-15
Chicago Afterthoughts
ORN: {} I'm resting.
It's been a few days since the Chicago Marathon, and I have had time to collect my thoughts. I've thought about how the race went, how training went, what went right, what went wrong. I decided I might benefit from writing down some of these lessons learned.
First, I am proud of myself. Before I start criticizing, I want to make it plain how happy I am about how I ran the race. Dare I say it? I ran a fun marathon. One of the first spectator posters I saw, and one I frequently saw throughout the race, said words to the effect of "Your feet are hurting because you are kicking so much asphalt." That is true. I ran well. I smiled most of the way. I interacted with the crowd, drawing strength from them and giving back my gratitude. I know I did the best I could have done on that day. The criticism below should be read with all that in mind.
Still, I didn't do as well as I had hoped. Before the race, I wrote an unpublished blog post about my goals for the race. In it, I specified three levels of goals. My bronze medal goal was merely to finish. My silver medal goal was to beat my last marathon time by 15 minutes. I did that. My gold medal goal was to beat my last marathon time by an hour, which would have meant a 4:25 finish. Surely, this was a stretch goal, but not one that was out of reach. Why did I fail to make this goal?
Honestly, the big reason is that I did not fully do the FIRST marathon training plan. I didn't do the weight training component more than a few times, and sometimes I played free and loose with the cross training. And I skipped some runs, either due to laziness or illness. And I almost never ran my long runs at the correct pace; I ran them too slow. Of all these mistakes, the last one was most critical. But I don't know what I can do about it. I've noticed I can run a 10-minute-mile pace for only so long. Six miles? Easy. Ten? Tough, but I've done it. Thirteen or more? Looking back at the data, I have never been able to maintain a 10-minute-mile pace beyond 12 miles. That seems to be my most urgent training challenge. Since I have not been able to run at marathon pace [9'19"] for any distance approaching a marathon, or even a half marathon, it's no wonder I fell short of my beyond-my-wildest-dreams goal. Until I can, I'm stuck with the silver. I have to dig deeper on my long runs.
Still, the 20 minute improvement over my last marathon should be credited to the FIRST plan. Without all that speed-work, I never would have run as fast as I did Sunday. Those long intervals and long tempo runs were the key. Thanks to them, I was still [inconsistently] running 10'30" miles up until mile 14.
So I need to renew my commitment to the FIRST plan -- the strength training, speed-work, race-pace long runs, stretching, all of it -- as I look forward to training for my next race, the Kentucky Derby Festival Mini-Marathon on April 24, 2010.
But the big failure of the marathon was Rudy. The buildings and tunnels wreaked havoc on my poor little Garmin Forerunner 305. My data is totally whacked. Somehow, in Chicago, I managed a 6,888 foot elevation gain! I teleported through the Sears Tower, weaving around like a drunken sailor, even doubling back on the course several times. What's up with that? Also, check out that loop-de-loop I ran in Lincoln Park. That's where I watered a tree.
One last thing. If I had the ability to bend over in the last miles of the race, I could have cleaned up on personal electronics. I saw at least one iPhone or iPod Touch, a Blackberry, and a brand new iPod Nano. All of these items had been dropped along the course by some unlucky marathoner, and I'm serious, if my hamstrings weren't tighter than piano strings, I would be like Batman with the gadgetry.
2009-10-12
2009 Chicago Marathon Race Report
ORN: Yesterday, I ran 26.2 miles in a personal-best 5:05'17".
Pre-race
Wifey and I went to Chicago with Chris and Helga, staying in the Congress Plaza Hotel. We were right across from Grant Park, perfectly situated to get from my bed to the starting line. We arrived Friday night, however, in plenty of time to see some of the city. On Saturday, we went to the Expo and got bags full of free swag. I started to get excited. Sadly, many fellow bloggers hit the Expo on Friday, so I missed out on meeting some people I would have liked to have met. Oh well. Let's skip ahead.
The night before the big race, the four of us met up with Trish and Fletch, fellow Louisvillians, and hit the town. We ate at the Italian Village. I had the stereotypical spaghetti and marinara sauce because I didn't want to eat anything too heavy. I wish I had ordered the pumpkin ravioli, but I still enjoyed my meal. [We had dessert there Friday night, and I had the best Limoncello. Alas, no hooch the night before the marathon.] Afterward, we went to the hotel and got to bed as soon as we could, near midnight.
Race Day
Up at 6:15, I geared up, gobbled down a bagel, lathered up my tenders with Bodyglide, and headed to the lobby with my entourage. It was pandemonium down there. Even in the hotel lobby, there were tons of people milling about, headed this way and that -- stretching, dressing, undressing. Outside, we encountered the hordes. Tens if not hundreds of thousands of people were all descending on Grant Park, either to run [33,419 official finishers] or to support the runners. We fought the crowds to get my bag, filled with after-race clothes and junk, to the American Cancer Society tent in the Charity Village. Unfortunately, we soon lost Wifey in the throng, and I got anxious that I'd not be able to kiss her one last time before the start. Time was running out. After much fruitless searching and calling on the celly, no joy. She was lost. Chris and I had to make it to the starting corral. Once we found a spot to stand, I had to pee. Of course.
He was injured with terrible plantar fasciitis, so he was just going to cross the start and drop out. We stood around, packed like sardines for about 30 minutes until we could begin shuffling toward the starting line. Chris and I exchanged words, I handed him my sweatshirt, and then I took off.
Start - 10K
The first section of the race was me trying to stay slow. I tried to keep my pace right at 11 minutes per mile, and it wasn't difficult, especially since it was wall-to-wall humans all around. The crowds of spectators were AWESOME the whole way, and I spent as much time gawking at all the people as I did gawking at the city and watching Rudy, my Garmin, to keep my pace in check.
Even though I had used the bathroom several times before the race, as I said, I had to pee from before the starting gun. Every water station had portable toilets, but they were all packed. Finally, when we made it to Lincoln Park, I noticed people -- men and women -- using the trees, so I did the same. I watered a tree for what seemed like a couple minutes, and then ran relieved for the first time in an hour.
Still, at this point I felt great and was having a great time.
10K - Halfway
This portion of the race is a blur to me. I felt great, and I was having so much fun watching the crowds that I can't even recall many specifics. All I know is that I decided after 6 miles I was sufficiently warmed up, and I had started off slow, and it was time to turn up the heat. I picked up the pace to between 10 and 10:30 per mile. I started passing people.
My hydration/gel plan was working. I started to feel hungry about mile 10 and popped a gel. I instantly felt better. The water/gatorade stations were perfectly distanced, and the volunteers handed out just a mouthful of liquid at a time. Perfect for me. Things were looking good.
13 miles - 20 miles
This is where things started going downhill for me. I started getting tired. I started having trouble maintaining a 10:30 pace, even. Still, I was feeling good. I wasn't hurting anywhere. I was just getting tired. I ran into my entourage at mile 16. Chris ran out and patted me on the back. I quickly handed him my hat, thanked him, said hi to Wifey, all in a span of seconds as I ran by. It was great seeing them and did a wonders for my mood. I picked up the pace and ran on.
I think around mile 18, some people were handing out small cups of Negro Modelo [beer]. I took a couple mouthfuls and did not regret it. It was refreshing, but it did sit heavily on my stomach. Beer is beer, though. I love beer. It made me happy at a time when I needed it. Thanks people at mile 18!
On I ran, and on and on. The first time I felt like crying was at the 20 mile mark. I felt tears welling in my eyes as I passed that mark, but I kept it in check. 20 miles. Just a 10K to go. 20. 20.
Wrapping it all up
Somewhere between 24 and 25, I think, I ran past a section where there was a group of people blasting an Obama speech with a phat hip-hop beat behind it. It was a speech where he talked about his grandfather and father, how they came from Kenya to America and built their life. Like many of Obama's best speeches, it was incredibly inspiring and motivational. This was the second time I nearly lost it to weeping. After that, it seemed like the last two miles, as I plodded up Michigan Avenue, crept by. So slowly, I creeped toward the finish. But the crowds were going nuts, encouraging us, telling us we looked great, urging us forward. Pure will was driving the bus at this point, because I was exhausted.
As I made the last turn into Grant Park, at the 26 mile mark, I caught sight of the finish line. And then, looking left, I saw some bleachers. And in them, I saw my wife and my friends all cheering for me. Wifey was smiling and yelling. I looked like this:
The smiling is joy at seeing my wife and friends and being within a couple hundred feet of being able to stop running. I was done.
I finished in a respectable time of 5:05'17", which was 20 minutes faster than my last marathon. I wanted to go under 5 hours, but you always wish you had done better. Those five minutes were easily the stretch breaks, the walk breaks, the pee breaks, but you know what? I needed those. I don't regret a thing. I had a tremendous day. I had a fun marathon.
Post race
I turned in my chip, got my medal, grabbed a beer and got on with my day. I inteded to go to the Cancer Society tent and get my free massage, but the place was a madhouse. I just wanted to go home. I wanted to get my crap and go. I was done with crowds. I needed a shower and a fresh set of clothes.
I limped back to the hotel and got those things. In short order, we packed and loaded the car and left. We drove from Chicago to Louisville in 5+ hours, then collected Little One from the grandparents. I finally got to bed way too late, but I slept like the dead.
Today, we've been taking it easy. We've had doughnuts and lots of TV. Wifey got me an hour-long massage, and then I took a hot bath. I am amazed at how good I feel. Stiff as I am, I have nothing to complain about. I feel great.
More post-race thoughts later on. Time for more spaghetti.
Pre-race
Wifey and I went to Chicago with Chris and Helga, staying in the Congress Plaza Hotel. We were right across from Grant Park, perfectly situated to get from my bed to the starting line. We arrived Friday night, however, in plenty of time to see some of the city. On Saturday, we went to the Expo and got bags full of free swag. I started to get excited. Sadly, many fellow bloggers hit the Expo on Friday, so I missed out on meeting some people I would have liked to have met. Oh well. Let's skip ahead.
The night before the big race, the four of us met up with Trish and Fletch, fellow Louisvillians, and hit the town. We ate at the Italian Village. I had the stereotypical spaghetti and marinara sauce because I didn't want to eat anything too heavy. I wish I had ordered the pumpkin ravioli, but I still enjoyed my meal. [We had dessert there Friday night, and I had the best Limoncello. Alas, no hooch the night before the marathon.] Afterward, we went to the hotel and got to bed as soon as we could, near midnight.
Race Day
Up at 6:15, I geared up, gobbled down a bagel, lathered up my tenders with Bodyglide, and headed to the lobby with my entourage. It was pandemonium down there. Even in the hotel lobby, there were tons of people milling about, headed this way and that -- stretching, dressing, undressing. Outside, we encountered the hordes. Tens if not hundreds of thousands of people were all descending on Grant Park, either to run [33,419 official finishers] or to support the runners. We fought the crowds to get my bag, filled with after-race clothes and junk, to the American Cancer Society tent in the Charity Village. Unfortunately, we soon lost Wifey in the throng, and I got anxious that I'd not be able to kiss her one last time before the start. Time was running out. After much fruitless searching and calling on the celly, no joy. She was lost. Chris and I had to make it to the starting corral. Once we found a spot to stand, I had to pee. Of course.
He was injured with terrible plantar fasciitis, so he was just going to cross the start and drop out. We stood around, packed like sardines for about 30 minutes until we could begin shuffling toward the starting line. Chris and I exchanged words, I handed him my sweatshirt, and then I took off.
Start - 10K
The first section of the race was me trying to stay slow. I tried to keep my pace right at 11 minutes per mile, and it wasn't difficult, especially since it was wall-to-wall humans all around. The crowds of spectators were AWESOME the whole way, and I spent as much time gawking at all the people as I did gawking at the city and watching Rudy, my Garmin, to keep my pace in check.
Even though I had used the bathroom several times before the race, as I said, I had to pee from before the starting gun. Every water station had portable toilets, but they were all packed. Finally, when we made it to Lincoln Park, I noticed people -- men and women -- using the trees, so I did the same. I watered a tree for what seemed like a couple minutes, and then ran relieved for the first time in an hour.
Still, at this point I felt great and was having a great time.
10K - Halfway
This portion of the race is a blur to me. I felt great, and I was having so much fun watching the crowds that I can't even recall many specifics. All I know is that I decided after 6 miles I was sufficiently warmed up, and I had started off slow, and it was time to turn up the heat. I picked up the pace to between 10 and 10:30 per mile. I started passing people.
My hydration/gel plan was working. I started to feel hungry about mile 10 and popped a gel. I instantly felt better. The water/gatorade stations were perfectly distanced, and the volunteers handed out just a mouthful of liquid at a time. Perfect for me. Things were looking good.
13 miles - 20 miles
This is where things started going downhill for me. I started getting tired. I started having trouble maintaining a 10:30 pace, even. Still, I was feeling good. I wasn't hurting anywhere. I was just getting tired. I ran into my entourage at mile 16. Chris ran out and patted me on the back. I quickly handed him my hat, thanked him, said hi to Wifey, all in a span of seconds as I ran by. It was great seeing them and did a wonders for my mood. I picked up the pace and ran on.
I think around mile 18, some people were handing out small cups of Negro Modelo [beer]. I took a couple mouthfuls and did not regret it. It was refreshing, but it did sit heavily on my stomach. Beer is beer, though. I love beer. It made me happy at a time when I needed it. Thanks people at mile 18!
On I ran, and on and on. The first time I felt like crying was at the 20 mile mark. I felt tears welling in my eyes as I passed that mark, but I kept it in check. 20 miles. Just a 10K to go. 20. 20.
Wrapping it all up
Somewhere between 24 and 25, I think, I ran past a section where there was a group of people blasting an Obama speech with a phat hip-hop beat behind it. It was a speech where he talked about his grandfather and father, how they came from Kenya to America and built their life. Like many of Obama's best speeches, it was incredibly inspiring and motivational. This was the second time I nearly lost it to weeping. After that, it seemed like the last two miles, as I plodded up Michigan Avenue, crept by. So slowly, I creeped toward the finish. But the crowds were going nuts, encouraging us, telling us we looked great, urging us forward. Pure will was driving the bus at this point, because I was exhausted.
As I made the last turn into Grant Park, at the 26 mile mark, I caught sight of the finish line. And then, looking left, I saw some bleachers. And in them, I saw my wife and my friends all cheering for me. Wifey was smiling and yelling. I looked like this:
The smiling is joy at seeing my wife and friends and being within a couple hundred feet of being able to stop running. I was done.
I finished in a respectable time of 5:05'17", which was 20 minutes faster than my last marathon. I wanted to go under 5 hours, but you always wish you had done better. Those five minutes were easily the stretch breaks, the walk breaks, the pee breaks, but you know what? I needed those. I don't regret a thing. I had a tremendous day. I had a fun marathon.
Post race
I turned in my chip, got my medal, grabbed a beer and got on with my day. I inteded to go to the Cancer Society tent and get my free massage, but the place was a madhouse. I just wanted to go home. I wanted to get my crap and go. I was done with crowds. I needed a shower and a fresh set of clothes.
I limped back to the hotel and got those things. In short order, we packed and loaded the car and left. We drove from Chicago to Louisville in 5+ hours, then collected Little One from the grandparents. I finally got to bed way too late, but I slept like the dead.
Today, we've been taking it easy. We've had doughnuts and lots of TV. Wifey got me an hour-long massage, and then I took a hot bath. I am amazed at how good I feel. Stiff as I am, I have nothing to complain about. I feel great.
More post-race thoughts later on. Time for more spaghetti.
2009-09-20
[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.
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.
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.
2009-07-11
[92] Race report: Magnolia 5K
ORN: This morning I drove two hours to run in the Magnolia 5K. It was the final race in the Kentucky State Park's 2009 race series. My official time was 27'42", and I finished second in my age group, earning me a medal. With my warm up, I have run 5.31 miles today in 47'15". My watch said the race was 3.31 miles, which, assuming that's right, would have made my adjusted time a much better 25'57". I'm not going to complain about it, though. The course had some challenging hills, and I just didn't have it in the tank today to do much better.
Not that a better performance would have garnered me a trophy anyway. The guy who took first place ran it in 20-something. Impossible. Again, I have no complaints about the day. It was a good day for a race, and I had fun. OK, well, I can complain about one thing.
Mr. Two-Sizes-Too-Small-Split-Shorts-Dude, I celebrate that you are a fit and trim 50-54 year old man. I hope when I am 50-54, I run as well as you did [taking home a trophy.] And I hope I look as good as you do. Seriously, man, you have a great build. Some of your tattoos impressed me, too. I can say all this because you were damned near naked, wearing nothing but split shorts that were at least one size too small. As my wife said when I described you to her, "Nobody wants to see that. Unless it's Brad Pitt in Troy. And only Brad Pitt. And only in Troy." And then she went to the video store for something. So next time you leave the house, please put on some more clothes. Six-foot-one and 190 pounds is just too much half-naked man for most people to stomach.
What about the race itself? It was well-managed, as they all have been. These are small races, fewer than 100 runners, which accounts for why a guy running over 27 minutes is still in the money. Still, the Parks department does a fine job. The course wended through a cottage area of Rough River State Resort Park, past the Lodge [twice], around the nine-hole golf course, and back up the road from a beach. As I said before, it was hilly. The hill coming up from the beach in the last half mile of the race was particularly nasty. But we runners and walkers had the roads to ourselves. It was a great day. Warm but cloudy with a nice breeze.
The first mile was fast because it was mostly downhill. I flew down the hill, trying to not let my legs brake me at all. Consequently, my first mile split was an amazing 8'04". If I had kept up that pace, I would have PR'd. Unfortunately, I started out too strong and the hills hit back causing my second mile splint to be a gasping 8'33". In the last mile, I tried to salvage the race and beat the runner next to me, but I only managed to squeeze out an 8'21" split. [She ended up beating me.] The rest of the race, the stretch, included that bastard of a hill rising from the beach, which I stormed up at a decent 8'30" pace.
Afterward, there were water bottles, bananas, and apples to recover with. Race officials quickly compiled the results and handed out awards for the current race [two deep in the age groups and overall male & female] and the overall series [top two male and female.] There were also door prizes, but I didn't win any.
I had every intention of running the remaining 12 miles I owe to the FIRST plan today, but it started to drizzle. Call me a wimp, but after that tough race, I wasn't up to running for two solid hours in the rain. It's 17:21 right now, and if I can, I may run the remaining 12 tonight. More likely, though, I will do them tomorrow morning. Unless it's storming.
Not that a better performance would have garnered me a trophy anyway. The guy who took first place ran it in 20-something. Impossible. Again, I have no complaints about the day. It was a good day for a race, and I had fun. OK, well, I can complain about one thing.
Mr. Two-Sizes-Too-Small-Split-Shorts-Dude, I celebrate that you are a fit and trim 50-54 year old man. I hope when I am 50-54, I run as well as you did [taking home a trophy.] And I hope I look as good as you do. Seriously, man, you have a great build. Some of your tattoos impressed me, too. I can say all this because you were damned near naked, wearing nothing but split shorts that were at least one size too small. As my wife said when I described you to her, "Nobody wants to see that. Unless it's Brad Pitt in Troy. And only Brad Pitt. And only in Troy." And then she went to the video store for something. So next time you leave the house, please put on some more clothes. Six-foot-one and 190 pounds is just too much half-naked man for most people to stomach.
What about the race itself? It was well-managed, as they all have been. These are small races, fewer than 100 runners, which accounts for why a guy running over 27 minutes is still in the money. Still, the Parks department does a fine job. The course wended through a cottage area of Rough River State Resort Park, past the Lodge [twice], around the nine-hole golf course, and back up the road from a beach. As I said before, it was hilly. The hill coming up from the beach in the last half mile of the race was particularly nasty. But we runners and walkers had the roads to ourselves. It was a great day. Warm but cloudy with a nice breeze.
The first mile was fast because it was mostly downhill. I flew down the hill, trying to not let my legs brake me at all. Consequently, my first mile split was an amazing 8'04". If I had kept up that pace, I would have PR'd. Unfortunately, I started out too strong and the hills hit back causing my second mile splint to be a gasping 8'33". In the last mile, I tried to salvage the race and beat the runner next to me, but I only managed to squeeze out an 8'21" split. [She ended up beating me.] The rest of the race, the stretch, included that bastard of a hill rising from the beach, which I stormed up at a decent 8'30" pace.
Afterward, there were water bottles, bananas, and apples to recover with. Race officials quickly compiled the results and handed out awards for the current race [two deep in the age groups and overall male & female] and the overall series [top two male and female.] There were also door prizes, but I didn't win any.
I had every intention of running the remaining 12 miles I owe to the FIRST plan today, but it started to drizzle. Call me a wimp, but after that tough race, I wasn't up to running for two solid hours in the rain. It's 17:21 right now, and if I can, I may run the remaining 12 tonight. More likely, though, I will do them tomorrow morning. Unless it's storming.
2009-06-13
[120] Race Report: Possum Ridge 5K
Pre-race
I woke up with my alarm after a fitful night of sleep. I weighed myself [175], drank some water, and got dressed. Everything was mechanical, soulless, and routine. Today was the day I was to put my dog, Missy, to sleep; but before that, I had a race to run. I needed the race, though. I needed to expend some anxious and angry energy into the road. I gobbled down a Clif Bar and hit the road.
I grabbed a coffee on the road. I got to Taylorsville Lake State Park in plenty of time to get my race packet. I affixed my bib number and wandered around until race time. Oh, and I did a quick 1 mile warm up. The morning was foggy and humid, and already at almost 8:00, the heat was getting uncomfortable.
And we're off
I ran the first mile at 5K race pace, which given the heat and my recent hiatus and injury felt pretty hard, probably too hard (8'09"). After that mile, I was just trying to do my best. I was beaten. I was so hot and was breathing so hard, I knew I wasn't going to PR. Still, I didn't want to waste the race.
At the turn around, I grabbed a glass of water and nearly drowned. Sputtering and coughing for the next quarter mile, I lost a ton of energy through carelessness. My best running were on the long downhill slopes, yet I did OK on the uphills. All in all, it was a tough race, but it felt good to fully exhaust myself.
Thank god it's over
I crossed the finish line at 26'54", which was nearly 2 minutes slower than my last 5K, which was a PR. Given how much I bonked this race, I was quite content with my time. While I waited for the awards to be distributed, I drank copious amounts of water and orange juice and watched people.
When the awards were handed, I nearly crapped my pants when my name was called for first place in my age group! And I wasn't the only guy in my age group. Good. I needed one good thing to happen today. I grabbed my trophy and spent my last hours with my 18 year old dog.
I'm numb now. Out of words. I'll reflect on this race later when I have it in me to do so.
I woke up with my alarm after a fitful night of sleep. I weighed myself [175], drank some water, and got dressed. Everything was mechanical, soulless, and routine. Today was the day I was to put my dog, Missy, to sleep; but before that, I had a race to run. I needed the race, though. I needed to expend some anxious and angry energy into the road. I gobbled down a Clif Bar and hit the road.
I grabbed a coffee on the road. I got to Taylorsville Lake State Park in plenty of time to get my race packet. I affixed my bib number and wandered around until race time. Oh, and I did a quick 1 mile warm up. The morning was foggy and humid, and already at almost 8:00, the heat was getting uncomfortable.
And we're off
I ran the first mile at 5K race pace, which given the heat and my recent hiatus and injury felt pretty hard, probably too hard (8'09"). After that mile, I was just trying to do my best. I was beaten. I was so hot and was breathing so hard, I knew I wasn't going to PR. Still, I didn't want to waste the race.
At the turn around, I grabbed a glass of water and nearly drowned. Sputtering and coughing for the next quarter mile, I lost a ton of energy through carelessness. My best running were on the long downhill slopes, yet I did OK on the uphills. All in all, it was a tough race, but it felt good to fully exhaust myself.
Thank god it's over
I crossed the finish line at 26'54", which was nearly 2 minutes slower than my last 5K, which was a PR. Given how much I bonked this race, I was quite content with my time. While I waited for the awards to be distributed, I drank copious amounts of water and orange juice and watched people.
When the awards were handed, I nearly crapped my pants when my name was called for first place in my age group! And I wasn't the only guy in my age group. Good. I needed one good thing to happen today. I grabbed my trophy and spent my last hours with my 18 year old dog.
I'm numb now. Out of words. I'll reflect on this race later when I have it in me to do so.
2009-04-28
More post-marathon stuff and lessons learned
ORN: { } No run today because I am sick. Four months of good health during race season cannot go unpunished. My lungs feel like they are stuffed with rags.
After hanging around the post-race party until I was fit to walk unaided, Wifey and I went home. She drove me to my car, and I immediately affixed my 26.2 car magnet to my ride. Smugness was in full effect.
At home, I started the recovery process. I poured myself a hot bath with some epsom salts [who knows whether that stuff works or not] and sat in the steaming broth sipping beer. After 20 minutes or so, I had all the bath I could stand [having been sweating most of the day] and got out. I went to work on repairing my feet.
My feet had no blisters, but they hurt like heck. I got one of my puppy's tennis balls and went to town rolling it along the floor. I mashed hard with the sole of one foot and then switched to the other. I pushed the ball hard into my plantar fascia, as hard as I could manage, and cured my foot pain.
I slept the rest of the weekend. Sleep, plus beer, naproxin, sports creme, and the tennis ball treatment made my recovery a breeze. I felt fine -- but dog-ass tired -- by Sunday afternoon.
Lessons learned:
After hanging around the post-race party until I was fit to walk unaided, Wifey and I went home. She drove me to my car, and I immediately affixed my 26.2 car magnet to my ride. Smugness was in full effect.At home, I started the recovery process. I poured myself a hot bath with some epsom salts [who knows whether that stuff works or not] and sat in the steaming broth sipping beer. After 20 minutes or so, I had all the bath I could stand [having been sweating most of the day] and got out. I went to work on repairing my feet.
My feet had no blisters, but they hurt like heck. I got one of my puppy's tennis balls and went to town rolling it along the floor. I mashed hard with the sole of one foot and then switched to the other. I pushed the ball hard into my plantar fascia, as hard as I could manage, and cured my foot pain.
I slept the rest of the weekend. Sleep, plus beer, naproxin, sports creme, and the tennis ball treatment made my recovery a breeze. I felt fine -- but dog-ass tired -- by Sunday afternoon.
Lessons learned:
- My hydration plan was impeccable. I trained to drink X ounces of sport drink at Y intervals, and with the heat, I drank 2*X ounces at 0.5*Y intervals. I had the habit in place to scale up, and that kept me from becoming a heat casualty.
- I had to run my race. I had all sorts of voices in my head telling me I could/should speed up or slow down, but in the end, I had to do what I had to do to survive. I did not acclimatize to running in 80° weather, so I had to play the hand I was dealt.
- Fan and loved-one support matters. During the first 12 miles, when there were supporters all along the route, running was easy. After the half/full split, and the supporters evaporated, so did my spirit. Knowing my wife was at the finish line waiting kept me on my feet and having friends rooting for me lifted my spirits considerably.
- I should really edit my race reports before I publish them. I'm going to fix it today.
- At the back of the pack, marathon running is not a competitive sport. It's totally collaborative. We leaned on each other. One runner gave me some lubricant unasked for. Another let me borrow his cell phone.
- Whether or not I trained enough to run this race, my training certainly helped me recover. I wasn't nearly as sore as I feared I would be.
- Tennis balls are the key to recovery.
- And beer.
- There are a lot of people in my real-life circle of friends and online rooting for me, and for that, I am extremely grateful.
2009-04-25
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.
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'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.
2009-04-18
Last long run
ORN: Saturday, I ran 13.1 miles in 2:18'51". That's not a PR, but it was the most enjoyable 13 miles I have ever run. It was easy, steady, and pleasant. I did my new favorite route through Louisville, and when I was done, I was tired but not spent. The rest of my Saturday was pain-free and enjoyable. When I think of what a basket case I was after my last half marathon, I am amazed at how far I have come.
Incidentally, the race results of the Goose Creek 5K and point standings for the Kentucky State Parks Race Series are online now, and I am doing just fine. In the race series, I'm #1 in points for my age group. Miraculous. And then, in the race itself, I was 2nd of five in my age group, 35th out of 61 for all males, and 40th out of 103 overall. Not too shabby, I guess.
Incidentally, the race results of the Goose Creek 5K and point standings for the Kentucky State Parks Race Series are online now, and I am doing just fine. In the race series, I'm #1 in points for my age group. Miraculous. And then, in the race itself, I was 2nd of five in my age group, 35th out of 61 for all males, and 40th out of 103 overall. Not too shabby, I guess.
2009-04-04
Race Report: Goose Creek 5K
The facts are these
Distance: 5 kilometers
Finishing time: 25'02" <-- Huge PR!!!!
Pre-race
Woke up two full hours before the race and gobbled down a small amount of oatmeal with honey and a little coffee. I didn't want a repeat of last week when I hit a major wall about halfway through my day. I had 18 miles to do today so energy management was going to be key. I swallowed down some Gu, my vitamins & meds, and some water, and took off. I ran five and a quarter miles from my house to the starting area, getting there wicked early. That gave me a chance to find a locker into which I could stow my gear, stretch, and take as many bathroom breaks as I needed. A couple onesies and a twosie later, I was ready to race. I was bib number 14. This was a small race.Race day
I guess altogether there was around 200 people milling around the starting area. We waited for the bullhorn to start. My strategy was to take it easy, running comfortably hard, not all out. I kept reminding myself I still had 10 miles to run after this. Still, I was getting pretty pumped. This was my first race in a while. The bullhorn siren went off, and we were off.In the first mile, my focus was on good foot turnover. I wanted to have a good, regular cadence. Again, nothing faster than comfortably hard, but I found myself passing people. That got me hooked. I became hooked on the opiate known as passing people. They called out my first mile split, and I nearly split my pants -- 8'16"! I was flying.
The second mile found me at war with myself. Should I keep stride and maintain this pace? Should I open it up and see how fast I can go? As I did this, I kept passing a few people. We went off-road and onto some gravel trails. I wanted to open wide, but I was also starting to tire, which worried me. My second mile split was 16'23". I was doing negative splits!
OK, fine, body. If you want to play that, let's play. I stopped worrying about it and just ran my race. The third mile was one of me picking someone ahead of me and trying to pass him or her. Finally, I got to the woman who'd later win the 30-35 division. I never took her. There was no Third Mile split caller, but my watch said 24'39". I was still doing negative splits.
I finished the race with a 25'02", destroying my previous PR. I also felt good. I was winded and tired, but I felt like I could recover. And I did.
Post race
We hung around the gymnasium and waited for the awards to get passed out. They did two-deep in the age groups, and when I turned my card in, I was the only dude in my division. I figured my chances of winning something were greater than usual so rather than running on home, I stuck around. I drank and gobbled fruit and waited. Eventually, they got around to it, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when they called out my name -- Runner Up, Mens 35-39! I got a medal!After the awards were doled out, my mind quickly turned to getting home. Thankfully, I didn't take first place. That award -- a wooden plaque -- would have been a bitch to run with. But the medal slid snugly into my Nathan water belt. I geared up and took off. All I had in me was 10-minute miles heading out, and I tapered from there. By the eighth mile [actually mile 16 for the day], I was done. I hobbled home doing 11-12 minute miles. Still, I felt OK. I was hurting, sore, tired, and completely spent, but I still felt a million times better than I felt after last Saturday's run. I owe it to good eating and starting out slow. And staying slow.
Concluding Thoughts
All together, I ran 18 miles in 3:05'42", but that huge elephant was broken up into three bites. The 5.25 mile pre-race segment, I ran in 54'10". We already discussed the race, and so the 9.7 mile return trip took me 1:46'23". Please don't check my math. I'm very tired now. And ravenously hungry. And I've typed long enough.Thanks to Heather Daniel, whose race report style I'm borrowing.
2009-04-02
An Ode to My Running Shoes
ORN: This morning, I eked out a 10K in 1:02'05". This week has been a slow one. I think I am getting burned out. Frankly, I haven't really cared about speed or performance. I've just been anxious to get the workouts over with. My course today took me across the bridge into Clarksville, past the Falls of the Ohio, and around the old Colgate Palmolive plant. As interesting as the scenery was, all I wanted was for the run to be over. My attitude has been crappy these last few days. So crappy in fact that I have resorted to writing awful poetry again.
I'm racing on Saturday, and I'm so focused on marathon preparation that the race is barely making a ripple in my pond. It is the Goose Creek 5K, the first leg of the 5th Annual Kentucky State Parks Race Series. The only mental preparation I've done is deciding how I am going to integrate it into my planned 18 miles that day. I think I have it figured out. First, I'll run there from home [x=5 miles]. Then, after that nice warm-up, I'll run the race [x+3.1 = 8.1 miles]. Finally, I'll take a meandering course back home, by way of St. Matthews and the malls [x+10 = 18 miles].
I'm not even going to try and race hard, not with a 10 miles to look forward to afterward. But I've wanted to do this race series for a couple years now. Besides, I miss the excitement of race day. I haven't run one since October. Plus, Wifey and Little One will be there walking it, so that'll be fun. After I finish, I'll double back to join them and help them cross the finish line. We'll hang out for a while, and then I'll take off. They'll go home, eat, and watch TV; I will run and run and run and run.
If you caught a whiff of melancholy in those last few sentences, I'm starting to feel a tad burned out by all this friggin' distance.
An Ode to My Running Shoes
Until we met, I never knew I could run and not feel my feet.
You eliminated all sensation that wasn't movement and breath.
Was I even wearing shoes?
I was wearing Nike Air Zoom Structure Triax 11+.
But nothing endures, least of all running kicks.
I used you 270 miles,
Started to feel the road again,
And sought your replacement.
Nike Air Zoom Structure Triax 12+.
But the twelves aren't one better than the elevens.
I miss what I had with eleven.
Twelve's on probation.
You eliminated all sensation that wasn't movement and breath.
Was I even wearing shoes?
I was wearing Nike Air Zoom Structure Triax 11+.
But nothing endures, least of all running kicks.
I used you 270 miles,
Started to feel the road again,
And sought your replacement.
Nike Air Zoom Structure Triax 12+.
But the twelves aren't one better than the elevens.
I miss what I had with eleven.
Twelve's on probation.
I'm racing on Saturday, and I'm so focused on marathon preparation that the race is barely making a ripple in my pond. It is the Goose Creek 5K, the first leg of the 5th Annual Kentucky State Parks Race Series. The only mental preparation I've done is deciding how I am going to integrate it into my planned 18 miles that day. I think I have it figured out. First, I'll run there from home [x=5 miles]. Then, after that nice warm-up, I'll run the race [x+3.1 = 8.1 miles]. Finally, I'll take a meandering course back home, by way of St. Matthews and the malls [x+10 = 18 miles].
I'm not even going to try and race hard, not with a 10 miles to look forward to afterward. But I've wanted to do this race series for a couple years now. Besides, I miss the excitement of race day. I haven't run one since October. Plus, Wifey and Little One will be there walking it, so that'll be fun. After I finish, I'll double back to join them and help them cross the finish line. We'll hang out for a while, and then I'll take off. They'll go home, eat, and watch TV; I will run and run and run and run.
If you caught a whiff of melancholy in those last few sentences, I'm starting to feel a tad burned out by all this friggin' distance.
2008-11-27
YMCA Turkey Trot 6 Miler
ORN: There was a distance guessing game at the end of the race, so they deliberately didn't make it a standard distance. My gear told me it was 5.78 miles, which I ran in 56'29". I was pretty proud of that time since I was on pace for a PR in the 10K, had the distance gone on another 4/10ths of a mile or so. I could have continued on and ran that extra piece, but I was anxious to get in the car and continue with my day.
I woke up wide awake more than an hour and a half before race-time. I tried sleeping a little longer, until my alarm was supposed to go off, but it was no use. I rose and dressed, packing a Gu gel and a granola bar for breakfast. I got to the YMCA nearly a full hour before the gun time, so I sat there, inside the Y, and waited. Most other people where there with family or friends. I was alone with my granola bar. Don't feel sorry for me, though -- they had coffee!
So I sipped some bad coffee and waited and waited. The place slowly began to fill up with people with Starbucks cups and better cold-weather gear than I seeking relief from the morning cold. [It was 27° outside according to the digital wall thermometer.] As I sat against a wall sipping, the crowd swelled and bulged closer. When clueless dads and uncles began to get so close to me that I was staring at wall-to-wall man-ass, I stood up and got in line for the bathroom.
After a quick tinkle, I sucked down my orange Gu gel and had a little water to wash it down. At 15 minutes before race time, the place was packed tight with runners, and the YMCA staff was yelling over bullhorns to keep the walkways clear. The noise was harshing my mellow, so I began to elbow my way outside.
Outside, it was damned cold. The day was sub-freezing and slowly growing brighter; at least it wasn't windy. I had dressed appropriately for running six miles in this weather, but I was under-dressed for standing around waiting. I hopped around and walked around and bounced, trying to keep warm until the gun went off.
Precisely on time, they started the race. Even though we all had timing chips, I noticed there was no starting mat. Everyone had the same start time. We all shuffled forward several steps, and then we were off.
The course was surprisingly flat throughout. The first mile, I was struggling to get warmed up. We ran through the neighborhoods surrounding the YMCA, and the home owners, warm and cozy in their bed clothes and steaming coffee cups, waved at us through their picture windows. Some kids wearing coats over their pajamas waved from front porches. I waved back because, in spite of the coldness, I felt great.
The course wended through neighborhoods and got boring fast. The twists and turns up and down suburban streets did little to keep things interesting. I regretted not having my iPod. But the volunteers were great. They stood at the many turning points and cheered us on. They cheerfully handed us water, despite the bitter cold. We all thanked them when we saw them.
By the fourth or fifth mile I had that moment when I felt like I could run all day. I guess the Gu kicked in or something. So with the race drawing to a close, I began to pick up the pace. I was huffing and puffing hard. Still, my legs had something left in them, and I wished, as I said before, that there was a little more distance to run. Alas, they cut the race short this year.
I didn't stay for any festivities. I didn't even get any water or a banana afterward. I jumped in my car and raced home because we were on a tight schedule for the rest of the day. I was anxious to get our Thanksgiving over with and get on the road for our mini-vacation in Indianapolis. I'd spend most of the balance of Thanksgiving day in the car with my two most important people -- Wifey and Little One. It was a good day.
I woke up wide awake more than an hour and a half before race-time. I tried sleeping a little longer, until my alarm was supposed to go off, but it was no use. I rose and dressed, packing a Gu gel and a granola bar for breakfast. I got to the YMCA nearly a full hour before the gun time, so I sat there, inside the Y, and waited. Most other people where there with family or friends. I was alone with my granola bar. Don't feel sorry for me, though -- they had coffee!
So I sipped some bad coffee and waited and waited. The place slowly began to fill up with people with Starbucks cups and better cold-weather gear than I seeking relief from the morning cold. [It was 27° outside according to the digital wall thermometer.] As I sat against a wall sipping, the crowd swelled and bulged closer. When clueless dads and uncles began to get so close to me that I was staring at wall-to-wall man-ass, I stood up and got in line for the bathroom.
After a quick tinkle, I sucked down my orange Gu gel and had a little water to wash it down. At 15 minutes before race time, the place was packed tight with runners, and the YMCA staff was yelling over bullhorns to keep the walkways clear. The noise was harshing my mellow, so I began to elbow my way outside.
Outside, it was damned cold. The day was sub-freezing and slowly growing brighter; at least it wasn't windy. I had dressed appropriately for running six miles in this weather, but I was under-dressed for standing around waiting. I hopped around and walked around and bounced, trying to keep warm until the gun went off.
Precisely on time, they started the race. Even though we all had timing chips, I noticed there was no starting mat. Everyone had the same start time. We all shuffled forward several steps, and then we were off.
The course was surprisingly flat throughout. The first mile, I was struggling to get warmed up. We ran through the neighborhoods surrounding the YMCA, and the home owners, warm and cozy in their bed clothes and steaming coffee cups, waved at us through their picture windows. Some kids wearing coats over their pajamas waved from front porches. I waved back because, in spite of the coldness, I felt great.
The course wended through neighborhoods and got boring fast. The twists and turns up and down suburban streets did little to keep things interesting. I regretted not having my iPod. But the volunteers were great. They stood at the many turning points and cheered us on. They cheerfully handed us water, despite the bitter cold. We all thanked them when we saw them.
By the fourth or fifth mile I had that moment when I felt like I could run all day. I guess the Gu kicked in or something. So with the race drawing to a close, I began to pick up the pace. I was huffing and puffing hard. Still, my legs had something left in them, and I wished, as I said before, that there was a little more distance to run. Alas, they cut the race short this year.
I didn't stay for any festivities. I didn't even get any water or a banana afterward. I jumped in my car and raced home because we were on a tight schedule for the rest of the day. I was anxious to get our Thanksgiving over with and get on the road for our mini-vacation in Indianapolis. I'd spend most of the balance of Thanksgiving day in the car with my two most important people -- Wifey and Little One. It was a good day.
2008-11-04
I voted for the socialist Muslim terrorist. How about you?
ORN: Pissed off but smug from voting early, I ran 3.0 miles in 30'45", which isn't bad. I felt faster, but I won't complain. I was hyper-pissed about something [don't ask] and going over what I should do about it. I was so wrapped up in my head that I missed my turn-around point by nearly a tenth of a mile. I was huffing like a locomotive by the time I stopped. I figured I ran 8 minute miles or something. Obviously not.
But on the upside, Wifey sent me a fruit bucket, just because. That helped big bunches. A gift bouquet of beer would have been even nicer, but I am certainly not complaining about that either.
Moving on....
I've signed up for the YMCA Turkey Trot, scheduled for early Thanksgiving morning. That'll be awesome. Too, I think we are going do our own thing for Thanksgiving, rather than spend it with family and endure all that stress. Then, maybe we'll go to Indianapolis and take in the Children's Museum. Who knows. The plans are all on paper at this point, but I am pretty excited about it.
Then, my employer has agreed to help out with the registration fee for the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon. We have a team that we send to the Mini [a.k.a., Half], and I was in that group last year. But I've decided to go rogue and run twice as far as I need to. This will be my first 26.2. Anyway, that application is in the mail too.
But on the upside, Wifey sent me a fruit bucket, just because. That helped big bunches. A gift bouquet of beer would have been even nicer, but I am certainly not complaining about that either.
Moving on....
I've signed up for the YMCA Turkey Trot, scheduled for early Thanksgiving morning. That'll be awesome. Too, I think we are going do our own thing for Thanksgiving, rather than spend it with family and endure all that stress. Then, maybe we'll go to Indianapolis and take in the Children's Museum. Who knows. The plans are all on paper at this point, but I am pretty excited about it.
Then, my employer has agreed to help out with the registration fee for the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon. We have a team that we send to the Mini [a.k.a., Half], and I was in that group last year. But I've decided to go rogue and run twice as far as I need to. This will be my first 26.2. Anyway, that application is in the mail too.
2008-10-28
Race results: Summit Fall Fest 5K
As I mentioned yesterday, the race results from Saturday's Summit Fall Fest 5K are public, and I did really well [for me]. If I've finagled Excel correctly, I was 6th out of 13 in the 35-39 age group [male + female], and I think third or fourth out of six in the men's 35-39. It depends on whether "Kris" is ♂ or ♀. I didn't get an award, so I guess I was not third. I was 58th overall out of 160.
My official time was 28'18", which is a 9'06" pace and a PR for me. I ran it hard, and it paid off. I'm pretty pleased with myself.
Resting today. I might do some cross training, like walking during lunch or perhaps a bike ride. Nothing too strenuous.
My official time was 28'18", which is a 9'06" pace and a PR for me. I ran it hard, and it paid off. I'm pretty pleased with myself.
Resting today. I might do some cross training, like walking during lunch or perhaps a bike ride. Nothing too strenuous.
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