Depending on how you look at it, the Ugly Mudder is either the first race of the season, or an off-season race. Either way, it was my first time racing since the Philly Marathon Half-Marathon in November. And it went ok. Don't know that I enjoyed myself as much as I should have, although I finished around where I expected to. It's not a great fit for me, though. It's a hard race, and that's part of it – but there are some harder races that I like more.
In part, I find the 11 am ('ish') start time a challenge. When do you eat? But much of it goes back to the fundamental issue I have with racing: I'm a better trail runner than road runner; I'm a natural negative splitter; and trail running favors positive splitting. And Ugly Mudder really favors positive splitting. It's a huge race – 700 people? Maybe 800? On some pretty narrow trails. So even more than most, it's imperative to start out at least ok and get position. But I overdid it, so that I was pretty beat 15 minutes in, knowing that I had around 45 to go. And it's not a very forgiving race. It's some of the same trails as Half-Wit (albeit in the opposite direction), but I'd say that mile-for-mile it's a harder race. Similar hilliness, but trickier footing. And while there are fewer sustained climbs, there are more short but ridiculously steep, no-way-you-could-run-that climbs. So when you're realizing, ¼ of the way in, that you're kinda spent, there's not a lot of opportunities to get that energy back.
Unlike a lot of other runners, I did manage to stay on my feet. Even more surprising, I managed to stay on course – which many other runners didn't. Someone – again! - had stolen some of the trail directions, causing mass chaos. I was among the least affected, although among those most affected, some had to run extra, others less. So I suspect that I wound up around where I would have – with some who should be behind me ahead, and some who should be ahead, behind.
My goal had been top 35, and I wound up in the high-20s, so, yes, goal achieved. One guy I'd almost caught a few times 2 years ago, then couldn't get close to last year, finished right in front of me. I mean right - I was sprinting at the finish line and he didn't beat me by a full foot. I'd consider this a significant accomplishment, if I didn't know that he'd been part of the group that ran extra.
So that's where things stand now. I've had a good off-season, and this was a good benchmark, especially since I won't get to run Tyler. And who knows what's next? Apparently there's less sleep in my future, and that can't help things much. But then, maybe it can – sacrifice a few minutes, chill out some, and enjoy myself more. We'll see.
Showing posts with label race reports. Show all posts
Showing posts with label race reports. Show all posts
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Monday, November 22, 2010
1:24:30
I ran the Philly Marathon Half Marathon this morning. I finished in 1:24:30, which is a new PR for me, by around a minute.
I also placed 4th in my age group. This is unprecedented.
The time is around what I expected. "Around" - I printed up a wristband last night, and had it exactly at 1:24:30, but I had no idea that I'd hit that to the second. And to be honest, I'm not sure I did – kinda think it was 2-3 seconds slower, but whatever. I'm pleased with the time. It was what I expected, given my training this season.
It's not what I was hoping for when I signed up for the race, but given my conditioning, I was pleased with the race – with the time, with my effort, with my approach.
My previous PR was at last year's PDR – a half-marathon only race that many people, including me then, use as a warm-up for the full marathon. I had a 1:25:42, or something like that (forty-something). I knew I left a few minutes on the course that day, since I was taking it easy to prioritize marathon training, and hadn't tapered.
This season, I wasn't up for another full Marathon; I was hoping to go back and pick up those minutes I'd left on the course, though. Turns out it wasn't so easy.
I was putting in similar miles to last year, but just wasn't quite as fast – reps were just a few seconds slower. I wasn't concerned about endurance, having run the Bluse Cruise, but I was concerned about speed. The half-marathon is a good hybrid, it's certainly endurance but you need to run it fast if you want to do well.
Although I arrived at my wristband's exact time, race didn't quite go by plan. Was thinking easy first 3 miles, pick it up through mile 10, then lay down the hammer. Instead, I went out faster than I planned, kept it up for a while, then dropped back a bit at around miles 9-10. Still managed to speed up for the last 3.
Like I said, it's not what I was hoping for when I signed up. I felt like I had a 1:22-1:23 in me. But today – this season – I didn't.
That said, I'm pretty excited about my AG placing. I never imagined I'd place in my AG in such a big race. And I was 82nd overall. I'm a top 5% guy usually; but this is top 1%. Unprecedented.
Easy to make caveats: a lot of people doing the full were going faster than me. It's the Philly Marathon; that's the main event. And yes, I've always been a bit skeptical of AG awards. But in a race this big, that matters less. It's still gratifying.
And thus ends racing season. Don't know what's next on the docket... Ugly Mudder? Some spring 10Ks? We'll see.
I also placed 4th in my age group. This is unprecedented.
The time is around what I expected. "Around" - I printed up a wristband last night, and had it exactly at 1:24:30, but I had no idea that I'd hit that to the second. And to be honest, I'm not sure I did – kinda think it was 2-3 seconds slower, but whatever. I'm pleased with the time. It was what I expected, given my training this season.
It's not what I was hoping for when I signed up for the race, but given my conditioning, I was pleased with the race – with the time, with my effort, with my approach.
My previous PR was at last year's PDR – a half-marathon only race that many people, including me then, use as a warm-up for the full marathon. I had a 1:25:42, or something like that (forty-something). I knew I left a few minutes on the course that day, since I was taking it easy to prioritize marathon training, and hadn't tapered.
This season, I wasn't up for another full Marathon; I was hoping to go back and pick up those minutes I'd left on the course, though. Turns out it wasn't so easy.
I was putting in similar miles to last year, but just wasn't quite as fast – reps were just a few seconds slower. I wasn't concerned about endurance, having run the Bluse Cruise, but I was concerned about speed. The half-marathon is a good hybrid, it's certainly endurance but you need to run it fast if you want to do well.
Although I arrived at my wristband's exact time, race didn't quite go by plan. Was thinking easy first 3 miles, pick it up through mile 10, then lay down the hammer. Instead, I went out faster than I planned, kept it up for a while, then dropped back a bit at around miles 9-10. Still managed to speed up for the last 3.
Like I said, it's not what I was hoping for when I signed up. I felt like I had a 1:22-1:23 in me. But today – this season – I didn't.
That said, I'm pretty excited about my AG placing. I never imagined I'd place in my AG in such a big race. And I was 82nd overall. I'm a top 5% guy usually; but this is top 1%. Unprecedented.
Easy to make caveats: a lot of people doing the full were going faster than me. It's the Philly Marathon; that's the main event. And yes, I've always been a bit skeptical of AG awards. But in a race this big, that matters less. It's still gratifying.
And thus ends racing season. Don't know what's next on the docket... Ugly Mudder? Some spring 10Ks? We'll see.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Reflections on the Blues Cruise 50k
Yesterday, I ran the Blues Cruise 50k. It was my first real foray into "ultra" marathons – a category that includes anything longer than a marathon, from 50ks to 50-milers to 100-milers and up.
My main impressions:
-It was a beautiful day, a perfect day, really, blue skies and sunlight but cool and breezy.
-The course itself was beautiful, along a lake, trails that were usually runnable
-The support was great
-Toenails, though small, can cause an enormous amount of pain
-I'm happy with my finishing time
-Ultra running just isn't for me.
50k translates to 31 miles, which makes sense, since a 5k is 3.1 miles. This course may have been only 30 miles, though, which translated to around 48.3k; Bob Reynolds also ran this with me, wearing his gps, and that was what he had.
"Only 30 miles" – it was still a long, long way to run.
The race started out well. It's an out and back, on trails that are often nice, frequently beautiful, at times breathtaking. Most of the trails were runable; there were a fair amount of short and really steep hills, which were a challenge (both up and down), but they were never too long. the one real significant hill was at around mile 10 (and then 21, seeing as it's an out-and-back), but that was not quite as steep, a hill that would have been more Wissahickon-like.
I started off a bit fast – first mile around 7:30, no way that was sustainable – and then settled into what seemed like a good pace. I hit the turnaround at around 2:02. I knew at that point that I was going to positive split the race, but was hoping for something around 4:10-4:15. Running that far, even on trails, beats me up, so equal effort = positive splitting.
I hadn't prepared for the excruciating pain that I was going to have to go through in the second half. I first noticed it going up the big hill at around mile 21. I'd felt something similar the Saturday before, on my weekly long run, and chalked it up to poor sock choice. I tried to run through it, but it would keep getting worse. I took off my shoe and rearranged my sock, which helped for a bit – I'd wind up doing that 3-4 times during the race. At a late rest stop (mile 25) I managed to get some ibuprofen, which also helped for a bit. But nothing that helped lasted. I think that at the last rest stop – maybe 3.5 miles out? - if I'd known how much I'd hurt during those last few miles, I'd have DNFed. Lots of grimacing, yelling, deep breathing till the pain subsided, then starting up with the first ginger steps, till up to running pace, then I'd land wrong and the pain would begin again.
That said, I'm glad I finished. Now I've done it – I've run at least one ultra. And my time was good – 4:32. A pretty pathetic 2nd half, but an overall good time. That was good for 19th place out of around 200 runners. I'm usually in the top 5%, but I expected to be somewhere around top 10% for my first ultra. And it was around the time I'd been guessing I'd get.
But I don't think that this is for me. I can't blame the venue, can't blame the weather, because I couldn't ask for anything more. I don't know that I can blame my toes - I mean, I can, but I suspect that during most ultras I'd have some issue or another. But 30 miles, 31 miles, even 26 miles – it's just a long way to run. While running that long has the advantage of letting you see a lot of beautiful scenery, and taking this a bit easier, you don't need a race for that.
My main impressions:
-It was a beautiful day, a perfect day, really, blue skies and sunlight but cool and breezy.
-The course itself was beautiful, along a lake, trails that were usually runnable
-The support was great
-Toenails, though small, can cause an enormous amount of pain
-I'm happy with my finishing time
-Ultra running just isn't for me.
50k translates to 31 miles, which makes sense, since a 5k is 3.1 miles. This course may have been only 30 miles, though, which translated to around 48.3k; Bob Reynolds also ran this with me, wearing his gps, and that was what he had.
"Only 30 miles" – it was still a long, long way to run.
The race started out well. It's an out and back, on trails that are often nice, frequently beautiful, at times breathtaking. Most of the trails were runable; there were a fair amount of short and really steep hills, which were a challenge (both up and down), but they were never too long. the one real significant hill was at around mile 10 (and then 21, seeing as it's an out-and-back), but that was not quite as steep, a hill that would have been more Wissahickon-like.
I started off a bit fast – first mile around 7:30, no way that was sustainable – and then settled into what seemed like a good pace. I hit the turnaround at around 2:02. I knew at that point that I was going to positive split the race, but was hoping for something around 4:10-4:15. Running that far, even on trails, beats me up, so equal effort = positive splitting.
I hadn't prepared for the excruciating pain that I was going to have to go through in the second half. I first noticed it going up the big hill at around mile 21. I'd felt something similar the Saturday before, on my weekly long run, and chalked it up to poor sock choice. I tried to run through it, but it would keep getting worse. I took off my shoe and rearranged my sock, which helped for a bit – I'd wind up doing that 3-4 times during the race. At a late rest stop (mile 25) I managed to get some ibuprofen, which also helped for a bit. But nothing that helped lasted. I think that at the last rest stop – maybe 3.5 miles out? - if I'd known how much I'd hurt during those last few miles, I'd have DNFed. Lots of grimacing, yelling, deep breathing till the pain subsided, then starting up with the first ginger steps, till up to running pace, then I'd land wrong and the pain would begin again.
That said, I'm glad I finished. Now I've done it – I've run at least one ultra. And my time was good – 4:32. A pretty pathetic 2nd half, but an overall good time. That was good for 19th place out of around 200 runners. I'm usually in the top 5%, but I expected to be somewhere around top 10% for my first ultra. And it was around the time I'd been guessing I'd get.
But I don't think that this is for me. I can't blame the venue, can't blame the weather, because I couldn't ask for anything more. I don't know that I can blame my toes - I mean, I can, but I suspect that during most ultras I'd have some issue or another. But 30 miles, 31 miles, even 26 miles – it's just a long way to run. While running that long has the advantage of letting you see a lot of beautiful scenery, and taking this a bit easier, you don't need a race for that.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
A Quasi-Marathon, and some thoughts on strategy
I ran in the Trail Dawgs' Stumpy's Marathon this morning – a no-frills affair through some nice woods outside of Newark, Delaware.
I didn't fully race it, and it's not fully a race. It's a supported run, with no real clock, no sign-up, and no guarantees. It's a free race and, while they like pointing out that you get what you pay for, it's a pretty good event. They had a bunch of rest stops, and did a decent job of marking a pretty complicated course. Bob R drove down with me, and I ran with him for the first 20+ miles. He wore a GPS, and had the route at 26.6 miles. Or maybe 26.8 – I forget.
It took me just under 4 hours. I break down the race like this: first two hours were fun; the third was difficult; the fourth hour was a brutal death-march. I didn't walk (with the exception of some steep climbs, where it was a good choice), but was really feeling the pain.
For the first three hours, I'd tried to run with Bob, even though I know that he does a lot more long-distance training than I do. Seemed more pleasant to run with someone, and it was good to have help finding the mile markers. For the first two hours that was easy enough. The third was a struggle. By hour 4, he left me in the dust.
It made me think more about the races I've done recently: Double Trouble, Half Wit, and this quasi-race. I'm ok with all of my results. The one that most disappointed me was half-wit. That was the only one where I'd made a conscious choice to negative split. The thing is, though – even if it cost me some time, it was the one event where I really felt like I finished strong.
Positive Split, Negative Split... there's a lot that makes sense about positive splitting a trail race. I'm not sure that my positive splitting cost me any time in Double Trouble or today (or that I should care much about the time today). But it's hard to deny that it makes me enjoy the running less.
My next race – a real race – is the Blues Cruise 50k. That'll be the farthest I've ever run. I'm thinking I should start off slower.
I didn't fully race it, and it's not fully a race. It's a supported run, with no real clock, no sign-up, and no guarantees. It's a free race and, while they like pointing out that you get what you pay for, it's a pretty good event. They had a bunch of rest stops, and did a decent job of marking a pretty complicated course. Bob R drove down with me, and I ran with him for the first 20+ miles. He wore a GPS, and had the route at 26.6 miles. Or maybe 26.8 – I forget.
It took me just under 4 hours. I break down the race like this: first two hours were fun; the third was difficult; the fourth hour was a brutal death-march. I didn't walk (with the exception of some steep climbs, where it was a good choice), but was really feeling the pain.
For the first three hours, I'd tried to run with Bob, even though I know that he does a lot more long-distance training than I do. Seemed more pleasant to run with someone, and it was good to have help finding the mile markers. For the first two hours that was easy enough. The third was a struggle. By hour 4, he left me in the dust.
It made me think more about the races I've done recently: Double Trouble, Half Wit, and this quasi-race. I'm ok with all of my results. The one that most disappointed me was half-wit. That was the only one where I'd made a conscious choice to negative split. The thing is, though – even if it cost me some time, it was the one event where I really felt like I finished strong.
Positive Split, Negative Split... there's a lot that makes sense about positive splitting a trail race. I'm not sure that my positive splitting cost me any time in Double Trouble or today (or that I should care much about the time today). But it's hard to deny that it makes me enjoy the running less.
My next race – a real race – is the Blues Cruise 50k. That'll be the farthest I've ever run. I'm thinking I should start off slower.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Noah 1, Double Trouble 1; but Helen wins 2-0!
Helen and I - along with a bunch of fellow wanderers – headed out to run the double trouble trail race today.
The course is a 15k loop (9.3 miles) through French Creek State Park. You can either do the single trouble (15k), which is one loop – and what we ran last year – or you can be really really dumb and do the 'double,' making it a 30k, aka 18.6 miles of trails. And heat. Trails and heat. Rocky trails, at that.
Last year, Helen had been kind of leaning toward doing the double, and I talked her out of it – so it made sense for us to go back and do it this year. She won the 15k going away last year, and I was pretty sure she could have won the 15k and the 30k. (It's a weird race that way, where you can double dip for the awards, if – like Helen – you're fast enough).
Since we were in for the long haul, Helen and I ran the first loop together. Until she started to peel away in the last mile or so. I crossed the finish right after her (you go through the chute then back out). We didn't know it then, but she was the 3rd woman through the chute, and the second to head out onto the 30k. We stayed together for the first mile or two of the second loop as well. At that point, I was feeling really good. We ran pretty conservatively on the first lap, and I felt like I was in good shape.
The trails themselves are pretty tricky. It's not quite as steep as the Wissahickon, but the hills are as big, if more gradual. But it's the rocks there that are tough. I don't know if it's rockier than the Wissahickon, but the rocks are somehow more jagged, tougher to land on and to avoid. We both twisted our ankles last year and while we managed to avoid that this year, it took some effort.
That said, yeah, I felt really good early in the second lap. I started off on my own to take advantage of the extra energy. To me, it felt like a normal trail run – just me, out on the trails, relaxed, keeping up a good pace. My plan was to be conservative for the first half of loop 2, and then speed up in the second half.
But when it came time to speed up, I just didn't have it.
I'm not sure what it was exactly – the heat, the build up of the attention to footing, the dehydration – but I started having trouble. The first thing that hit me was that I was screwing up my footing. In trail running, even on normal trails, that's a problem – so it was a worse problem with the rocky trails. I ate some more gels, I tried to focus better, but it kept happening. That last four miles or so were tough. I think I was around 1:18 for the first loop; the second loop was around 9 minutes slower.
One more mile, and Helen would have caught me. Maybe even sooner than that. She finished in the chute right after me – in first place! And *much* more refreshed than I was.
So, congrats to Helen for bringing home some more hardware. I brought some home, too - 2nd in my AG on the 30k. I don't think I've ever been 2nd in my AG, so I'm pretty psyched about that.
The course is a 15k loop (9.3 miles) through French Creek State Park. You can either do the single trouble (15k), which is one loop – and what we ran last year – or you can be really really dumb and do the 'double,' making it a 30k, aka 18.6 miles of trails. And heat. Trails and heat. Rocky trails, at that.
Last year, Helen had been kind of leaning toward doing the double, and I talked her out of it – so it made sense for us to go back and do it this year. She won the 15k going away last year, and I was pretty sure she could have won the 15k and the 30k. (It's a weird race that way, where you can double dip for the awards, if – like Helen – you're fast enough).
Since we were in for the long haul, Helen and I ran the first loop together. Until she started to peel away in the last mile or so. I crossed the finish right after her (you go through the chute then back out). We didn't know it then, but she was the 3rd woman through the chute, and the second to head out onto the 30k. We stayed together for the first mile or two of the second loop as well. At that point, I was feeling really good. We ran pretty conservatively on the first lap, and I felt like I was in good shape.
The trails themselves are pretty tricky. It's not quite as steep as the Wissahickon, but the hills are as big, if more gradual. But it's the rocks there that are tough. I don't know if it's rockier than the Wissahickon, but the rocks are somehow more jagged, tougher to land on and to avoid. We both twisted our ankles last year and while we managed to avoid that this year, it took some effort.
That said, yeah, I felt really good early in the second lap. I started off on my own to take advantage of the extra energy. To me, it felt like a normal trail run – just me, out on the trails, relaxed, keeping up a good pace. My plan was to be conservative for the first half of loop 2, and then speed up in the second half.
But when it came time to speed up, I just didn't have it.
I'm not sure what it was exactly – the heat, the build up of the attention to footing, the dehydration – but I started having trouble. The first thing that hit me was that I was screwing up my footing. In trail running, even on normal trails, that's a problem – so it was a worse problem with the rocky trails. I ate some more gels, I tried to focus better, but it kept happening. That last four miles or so were tough. I think I was around 1:18 for the first loop; the second loop was around 9 minutes slower.
One more mile, and Helen would have caught me. Maybe even sooner than that. She finished in the chute right after me – in first place! And *much* more refreshed than I was.
So, congrats to Helen for bringing home some more hardware. I brought some home, too - 2nd in my AG on the 30k. I don't think I've ever been 2nd in my AG, so I'm pretty psyched about that.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Broad Street Run 2010
I didn't PR, but I ran as well as I could given the conditions, which was hot, humid, and facing a headwind. If I had been more strategic or been a little tougher, maybe I'd have been a little faster. But I ran my heart and lungs out. After a decent first half where I felt good (31:47), the wheels fell off in South Philly. The air was so thick and it got to me. By the time I reached the gates to enter the Navy Yard, a quarter mile before the finish, I was lightheaded, gasping for air, and breathing loudly. But I kicked, passed more people, and wound up with 1:05:54. This was good for 3rd AG!
Here's a picture of the finish - I'm the person in white and blue with the arms driving across my chest.
Highlights:
Challenges:
Here's a picture of the finish - I'm the person in white and blue with the arms driving across my chest.
Highlights:
- My hamstrings and hips behaved during the race.
- Thanks to relentless efforts by Noah to suppress my activity during the week, I tapered well for this race.
- I started in the second wave and got to pass people the whole way, even when I was fading.
- Running the hardest miles with Noah.
Challenges:
- Heat, humidity, headwind
- Running behind a woman who had pooped in her shorts, not recognizing that and not passing her until mile 9
- Such negative thinking during the race
- Cramping up big time after the race
Monday, April 12, 2010
The Streak is – kind of – over.
Followers of this blog know that I've had quite a streak going. Basically, a PR every time I race. To be more specific, I've had a distance-specific PR on every road race I've done, and a course-specific PR on every trail race I've done. That ended – kind of – on Sunday.
The race in question was the Bucks County Half Marathon.
This was my fourth road half marathon, after 2 Caesar Rodneys (08, 09), and last fall's PDR. I don't know the seconds, but my times had gone 1:29, 1:26, 1:25.
Going into the race, I thought that I had a decent chance of breaking 1:25, but not a good chance – probably around 40%. But I don't have a good sense, really, of where I am. I did manage to take a minute off my Tyler time, from '09 to '10. But I know I'm not where I'd like to be. A winter full of snow running of just miles, no real speed work, and 7-8 pounds that I didn't have at the marathon can't have helped matters. That said, I did put in the miles. So, yeah, I didn't really know.
And, having run a half-marathon yesterday, I still don't.
This was an inaugural race, and I expected some hiccups. It started around 20 minutes late, but ok. So be it. It had the feel of a fun local race. It was easy enough to get to, and it was right near Helen's mom's house. And the course was beautiful. Shaded roads, most of them with no vehicle traffic.
If it seems like there's a 'but' coming, it's because there is. A big one.
This was the most disorganized course I've ever been on.. The RD was a 17 year old who'd never directed a race before, and it showed. There was no way to know the course, short of having studied it ahead of time and memorized it, or even come out and practiced it. Which, of course, I didn't. I suppose that I could have studied the course map on the website, but that didn't really occur to me.
In any case, I was off course – kind of – by mile 4. I know that because I passed the mile 4 marker in around 15 minutes. Except that it turned out I wasn't "off" course, I was just doing that particular loop backwards. Which would have made sense, if they had a) described the course during the 20 extra minutes before the start, or b) had a map of the course at the start. But they didn't do either.
There was one T-intersection – literally, a full-on T, a dead-end, you turn right or left, with no signs and no volunteers. Helen was there the first time through, thank god – but she didn't know the course, since there was no map at the start. The course I ran was just guesswork.
So, yes, very frustrating.
One more thing to add, was that the website had said that there would be gatorade every other mile. There was only water. It's hard not to sound whiny when writing that, but it's a big deal. If I know ahead of time that there's only water, fine – I'll pack a gel and eat it half way through. But nutrition is a big part of race strategy. And I was counting on the extra calories from the gatorade for the second half. Not having them hurt.
In the end, it's very possible that I ran 13.1 miles. I ran most of the run with three other guys, one of whom had a gps. They had it at 13.3, but they had gone off route – kind of - and doubled back. They'd started the loop in the wrong direction, like I had, but they doubled back. (They still managed to drop me in the final mile, but I was glad to get to run with them for much of the race).
My time was just under 1:27. So, yeah, an end to the streak.
With a good course and calories to sustain me, could I have broken 1:25?
I think so. I'm not sure; but I think so. I spent a lot of energy mentally that I could have spent physically. That said, I do wonder if the days of smashing earlier PRs is gone. I was hoping on having a better spring season than this; but it turns out that the time to start planning your spring season is in the middle of the winter, and I didn't do that.
The race in question was the Bucks County Half Marathon.
This was my fourth road half marathon, after 2 Caesar Rodneys (08, 09), and last fall's PDR. I don't know the seconds, but my times had gone 1:29, 1:26, 1:25.
Going into the race, I thought that I had a decent chance of breaking 1:25, but not a good chance – probably around 40%. But I don't have a good sense, really, of where I am. I did manage to take a minute off my Tyler time, from '09 to '10. But I know I'm not where I'd like to be. A winter full of snow running of just miles, no real speed work, and 7-8 pounds that I didn't have at the marathon can't have helped matters. That said, I did put in the miles. So, yeah, I didn't really know.
And, having run a half-marathon yesterday, I still don't.
This was an inaugural race, and I expected some hiccups. It started around 20 minutes late, but ok. So be it. It had the feel of a fun local race. It was easy enough to get to, and it was right near Helen's mom's house. And the course was beautiful. Shaded roads, most of them with no vehicle traffic.
If it seems like there's a 'but' coming, it's because there is. A big one.
This was the most disorganized course I've ever been on.. The RD was a 17 year old who'd never directed a race before, and it showed. There was no way to know the course, short of having studied it ahead of time and memorized it, or even come out and practiced it. Which, of course, I didn't. I suppose that I could have studied the course map on the website, but that didn't really occur to me.
In any case, I was off course – kind of – by mile 4. I know that because I passed the mile 4 marker in around 15 minutes. Except that it turned out I wasn't "off" course, I was just doing that particular loop backwards. Which would have made sense, if they had a) described the course during the 20 extra minutes before the start, or b) had a map of the course at the start. But they didn't do either.
There was one T-intersection – literally, a full-on T, a dead-end, you turn right or left, with no signs and no volunteers. Helen was there the first time through, thank god – but she didn't know the course, since there was no map at the start. The course I ran was just guesswork.
So, yes, very frustrating.
One more thing to add, was that the website had said that there would be gatorade every other mile. There was only water. It's hard not to sound whiny when writing that, but it's a big deal. If I know ahead of time that there's only water, fine – I'll pack a gel and eat it half way through. But nutrition is a big part of race strategy. And I was counting on the extra calories from the gatorade for the second half. Not having them hurt.
In the end, it's very possible that I ran 13.1 miles. I ran most of the run with three other guys, one of whom had a gps. They had it at 13.3, but they had gone off route – kind of - and doubled back. They'd started the loop in the wrong direction, like I had, but they doubled back. (They still managed to drop me in the final mile, but I was glad to get to run with them for much of the race).
My time was just under 1:27. So, yeah, an end to the streak.
With a good course and calories to sustain me, could I have broken 1:25?
I think so. I'm not sure; but I think so. I spent a lot of energy mentally that I could have spent physically. That said, I do wonder if the days of smashing earlier PRs is gone. I was hoping on having a better spring season than this; but it turns out that the time to start planning your spring season is in the middle of the winter, and I didn't do that.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
2:57:44
Today I ran the Philadelphia Marathon.
I'd had this marathon on my radar for a while. I'd decided over a year ago that I'd do the 09 Philly marathon. And I'd decided that I'd try to finish it in less than three hours.
Someday things will come crushing down on me. Someday I'll set myself a goal and not reach it. Someday my streak of a PR at every race will end. So far, I've been lucky. But on the eve of the marathon, I was worried – worried that my feet would bother me, worried that my shoes would be too uncomfortable. Mostly, though, I was worried about my stomach. It was kind of bugging me.
But things worked out. Thanks, pepto-bismol.
I went into the race with two plans. On my right wrist I had a wrist band with the mile goals for a 3-hour marathon, with even times for each mile. On my left wrist, I had a more aggressive, Philly-specific wristband, designed for a 2:56:30 marathon. With secret plans of trying to break 2:55. But I always knew that was a pipe dream. The plan was to run a 1:28 first half and then see from there.
The race started out easy enough. I was worried about congestion at the start, but that was not a problem. I was able to settle into a pace pretty well. It was never that easy a pace, but I concentrated on keeping calm and keeping my shoulders relaxed. I was able to get a little time cushion in front of even my more optimistic left-arm wristband.
The first 7 miles were fun, and fairly easy. The only down point was not seeing Helen at mile 6, where I expected her. She saw me and called my name – but here's the thing. My bib said "Noah" on it. People were yelling "go Noah" and "good job Noah" the whole race.
So it threw me a little, not seeing her, but I knew it was tough to see people in the crowd. I just tried to keep going. I started pacing off of this group of three guys with "runner's alley" shirts on – they were going just a little faster than I would have, so it helped keep me focused. Having run all of the route before in training helped a lot psychologically. I did pretty well going through the west park, generally keeping pace with my left arm wristband. I knew that somewhere behind me was a 3 hour pace-group, so I wouldn't panic unless I saw them.
This approach got me through the first half. I was able to get past one of my worries, by not going through the half marathon finish line. Soon, I was back on the main route, ready to start the second half.
Helen joined me at that point, and kept me company from mile 14 to mile 18. These were relatively easy miles. The three guys slowed down, so I ran past them. I was impressed that Helen could keep up, since she'd just run the four corners the day before, but she didn't even seem to be struggling.
Helen stopped off at mile 18, at the Wanderers' water stop. Afterwards was a low point. I'd counted on getting gels at that water stop, but there weren't any. This was a major blow to my strategy, which basically involved eating a lot of gels.
That low point wouldn't last. Running through Manayunk was fun. My sister and my nephews were there to cheer me on, which was a huge boost. There was a spot to get gels, saving my strategy. The crowd there was good. And there was even one spot where they were playing Eye of the Tiger.
At around 20 miles, you make a 180 degree turn and start heading back to the Art Museum. I'd told myself that if I felt good at this point, I could speed up a bit. By this time I was a little behind my left arm wristband, but still well ahead of my right arm wristband. I didn't really have it in me to speed up, though. So I concentrated on keeping a good pace and staying relaxed. I was starting to get sore, but optimistic about a strong finish. That optimism lasted through the return trip to the Wanderers water stop. Not much longer, though.
Somewhere around mile 22-23, the pounding started really adding up. My shoes felt too hard, my legs too sore. I stopped looking at my wrist bands. The three-hour pace group hadn't caught up to me, so I knew I wasn't fading too fast. I started timing miles. I kept my focus on staying loose, but that wasn't easy. My legs were hurting. I tried to pass more people than passed me, but a bunch of people passed me. I had to let them go. I missed having Helen run with me in the last stretch, like she had at National. One of my miles was around 7 minutes, which was slower than I was going for. 2:55 was gone. That was ok. That was always a pipe dream. I still wanted to break 3 hours, though. The math was on my side - I knew I had a little bit of a cushion. But I also started to feel my calf start to cramp up. It was like a cramp-breeze blowing across my calf – it started to seize up and then went away. But I knew that I had to monitor that.
The last 3.2 weren't fun. I was just hoping on surviving, hoping my calf woudn't cramp up. I did and it didn't. I managed to get a little kick in the last quarter mile. I ran past the finish line in 2:57:44.
Now, I'm recovering. In other words, I'm really, really sore. And I'm in no rush to run another marathon – or at least, to race another marathon. For now, I'm looking forward to some time off, and then to getting back into running on the trails, and riding my bike some more. I don't know if I've got many more marathons in me.
I'd had this marathon on my radar for a while. I'd decided over a year ago that I'd do the 09 Philly marathon. And I'd decided that I'd try to finish it in less than three hours.
Someday things will come crushing down on me. Someday I'll set myself a goal and not reach it. Someday my streak of a PR at every race will end. So far, I've been lucky. But on the eve of the marathon, I was worried – worried that my feet would bother me, worried that my shoes would be too uncomfortable. Mostly, though, I was worried about my stomach. It was kind of bugging me.
But things worked out. Thanks, pepto-bismol.
I went into the race with two plans. On my right wrist I had a wrist band with the mile goals for a 3-hour marathon, with even times for each mile. On my left wrist, I had a more aggressive, Philly-specific wristband, designed for a 2:56:30 marathon. With secret plans of trying to break 2:55. But I always knew that was a pipe dream. The plan was to run a 1:28 first half and then see from there.
The race started out easy enough. I was worried about congestion at the start, but that was not a problem. I was able to settle into a pace pretty well. It was never that easy a pace, but I concentrated on keeping calm and keeping my shoulders relaxed. I was able to get a little time cushion in front of even my more optimistic left-arm wristband.
The first 7 miles were fun, and fairly easy. The only down point was not seeing Helen at mile 6, where I expected her. She saw me and called my name – but here's the thing. My bib said "Noah" on it. People were yelling "go Noah" and "good job Noah" the whole race.
So it threw me a little, not seeing her, but I knew it was tough to see people in the crowd. I just tried to keep going. I started pacing off of this group of three guys with "runner's alley" shirts on – they were going just a little faster than I would have, so it helped keep me focused. Having run all of the route before in training helped a lot psychologically. I did pretty well going through the west park, generally keeping pace with my left arm wristband. I knew that somewhere behind me was a 3 hour pace-group, so I wouldn't panic unless I saw them.
This approach got me through the first half. I was able to get past one of my worries, by not going through the half marathon finish line. Soon, I was back on the main route, ready to start the second half.
Helen joined me at that point, and kept me company from mile 14 to mile 18. These were relatively easy miles. The three guys slowed down, so I ran past them. I was impressed that Helen could keep up, since she'd just run the four corners the day before, but she didn't even seem to be struggling.
Helen stopped off at mile 18, at the Wanderers' water stop. Afterwards was a low point. I'd counted on getting gels at that water stop, but there weren't any. This was a major blow to my strategy, which basically involved eating a lot of gels.
That low point wouldn't last. Running through Manayunk was fun. My sister and my nephews were there to cheer me on, which was a huge boost. There was a spot to get gels, saving my strategy. The crowd there was good. And there was even one spot where they were playing Eye of the Tiger.
At around 20 miles, you make a 180 degree turn and start heading back to the Art Museum. I'd told myself that if I felt good at this point, I could speed up a bit. By this time I was a little behind my left arm wristband, but still well ahead of my right arm wristband. I didn't really have it in me to speed up, though. So I concentrated on keeping a good pace and staying relaxed. I was starting to get sore, but optimistic about a strong finish. That optimism lasted through the return trip to the Wanderers water stop. Not much longer, though.
Somewhere around mile 22-23, the pounding started really adding up. My shoes felt too hard, my legs too sore. I stopped looking at my wrist bands. The three-hour pace group hadn't caught up to me, so I knew I wasn't fading too fast. I started timing miles. I kept my focus on staying loose, but that wasn't easy. My legs were hurting. I tried to pass more people than passed me, but a bunch of people passed me. I had to let them go. I missed having Helen run with me in the last stretch, like she had at National. One of my miles was around 7 minutes, which was slower than I was going for. 2:55 was gone. That was ok. That was always a pipe dream. I still wanted to break 3 hours, though. The math was on my side - I knew I had a little bit of a cushion. But I also started to feel my calf start to cramp up. It was like a cramp-breeze blowing across my calf – it started to seize up and then went away. But I knew that I had to monitor that.
The last 3.2 weren't fun. I was just hoping on surviving, hoping my calf woudn't cramp up. I did and it didn't. I managed to get a little kick in the last quarter mile. I ran past the finish line in 2:57:44.
Now, I'm recovering. In other words, I'm really, really sore. And I'm in no rush to run another marathon – or at least, to race another marathon. For now, I'm looking forward to some time off, and then to getting back into running on the trails, and riding my bike some more. I don't know if I've got many more marathons in me.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Instead of a dog, we got an oven
No, there will not be a race report on the Philadelphia Distance Run. We ran, we finished, we got best times by a few minutes. Moving on. Noah's training for a marathon, and I seem to be stuck rehabbing a minor injury that refuses to heal completely. At least I still get to run.
Other than running and working, we have been indulging in our other love: eating. You see, we got our kitchen redone over the summer, and now we have two ovens. Our new toy is a 24 inch electric oven with convection function made by the Spanish company Fagor (known for pressure cookers), and it's a gift from my mom's brother and sister. They are very cool!
Here it is, posing with some strawberry peach crumble:
Other than running and working, we have been indulging in our other love: eating. You see, we got our kitchen redone over the summer, and now we have two ovens. Our new toy is a 24 inch electric oven with convection function made by the Spanish company Fagor (known for pressure cookers), and it's a gift from my mom's brother and sister. They are very cool!
Here it is, posing with some strawberry peach crumble:
More examples of the oven's good deeds:Nutella-swirl Vanilla cupcakes (before icing)
Peach Upside Down Cake
Pizza
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Half-Wit Half - The Long Belated Race Report
A bit late, but some notes on Helen's and my race last week at the annual Half-Wit Half.
It was our third time at this race, and Helen and I both managed to pull off some milestones.
Helen was able to defend her crown; and for the first time, I was able to run the race without going off course.
For all of my frustration last year with the race, we actually both like the race a lot. It's a hard race, but it's also a good scene. Lots of fun hanging out afterwards, and it's always a good wanderers turnout. And this year was pretty close to ideal weather. It was hot, yes, but it was also August, and we couldn't have expected much better.
It's hard to give many of the details, and there's not a lot of point in doing so anyway. I tried to start off a little slower than last year, in the hopes of having something of a kick at the end. The course itself is odd – it's a big loop, with an add-on lollipop. Any my goal was to stay on course. I was pretty focused on just racing my race – from early on I'd found a pace I liked, and if people passed me they passed me. Not a lot did, though – even though I took it easy at a lot of spots, walked some uphills, etc., I think I spent the second half of the race in roughly the same place I wound up finishing in.
In the end, I think I came in 20th overall, which I'm quite pleased with. I finished in 1:51 something, which is far faster than either of my other times, but since I got lost the other times, it's not really apples-to-apples. But I'm still pleased with the time, pleased with the overall place, pleased with my race, pleased with my navigation, pleased with my composure. I have a hard time taking my award that seriously - 7th place in my age group? Seems like a stretch – but that doesn't take away from my overall satisfaction with my performance.
As for Helen's race – she won't me like writing this, but she was dominant. (And if she doesn't want me writing this, well, *she* can write the race report!) She won by over five minutes. And she won a pair of shoes! Courtesy of La Sportiva. She says she only butt-slid down one hill, and I belive her.
So congrats to Helen. And congrats to all the wanderers who were out there – and really, to everyone who finished. It is not. an. easy. course. to. run. Between the hills, the rocks, the decrepit staircase, and the more hills, it's among the hardest half-marathons out there. But it's also one of the most fun.
It was our third time at this race, and Helen and I both managed to pull off some milestones.
Helen was able to defend her crown; and for the first time, I was able to run the race without going off course.
For all of my frustration last year with the race, we actually both like the race a lot. It's a hard race, but it's also a good scene. Lots of fun hanging out afterwards, and it's always a good wanderers turnout. And this year was pretty close to ideal weather. It was hot, yes, but it was also August, and we couldn't have expected much better.
It's hard to give many of the details, and there's not a lot of point in doing so anyway. I tried to start off a little slower than last year, in the hopes of having something of a kick at the end. The course itself is odd – it's a big loop, with an add-on lollipop. Any my goal was to stay on course. I was pretty focused on just racing my race – from early on I'd found a pace I liked, and if people passed me they passed me. Not a lot did, though – even though I took it easy at a lot of spots, walked some uphills, etc., I think I spent the second half of the race in roughly the same place I wound up finishing in.
In the end, I think I came in 20th overall, which I'm quite pleased with. I finished in 1:51 something, which is far faster than either of my other times, but since I got lost the other times, it's not really apples-to-apples. But I'm still pleased with the time, pleased with the overall place, pleased with my race, pleased with my navigation, pleased with my composure. I have a hard time taking my award that seriously - 7th place in my age group? Seems like a stretch – but that doesn't take away from my overall satisfaction with my performance.
As for Helen's race – she won't me like writing this, but she was dominant. (And if she doesn't want me writing this, well, *she* can write the race report!) She won by over five minutes. And she won a pair of shoes! Courtesy of La Sportiva. She says she only butt-slid down one hill, and I belive her.
So congrats to Helen. And congrats to all the wanderers who were out there – and really, to everyone who finished. It is not. an. easy. course. to. run. Between the hills, the rocks, the decrepit staircase, and the more hills, it's among the hardest half-marathons out there. But it's also one of the most fun.
Monday, June 29, 2009
If By Win, You Mean Dominate
This weekend, Helen and I participated in our first Double Trouble – another in the Pretzel City family of trail races. The terrain wasn't as hard as Half-Wit (or Ugly Mudder, which is the same terrain as Half-Wit, just in the other direction), probably not as hard as the Wissahickon Trail Classic, either - but significantly harder than Tyler.
It's an odd race. The course is a 15k (aka 9.3 mile) loop. You can race it once, you can race it twice, depending on if you want to go 15k (single trouble) or 30k (double trouble).
To be honest, I'd like to do a 30k trail race, but a two loop version of the race we just did didn't really appeal to me. It did appeal to Helen, but I kind of talked her out of it, which I feel kind of bad about now. Because the guy who won the men's 15k race finished 2nd in the 30k, and the guy who finished 3rd in the 15k won the 30k. Helen could've one-upped them, though. I'm sure she could have won both.
Obviously, this wasn’t the first race Helen won. But I can't remember her dominating a race like this one. The second woman didn't finish until four and half minutes after Helen.
I was generally pleased with my own race. I spent most of it alone - I finished 14th overall (although it's kind of complicated – for reasons I won't go into, some of the 30k racers who finished ahead of me count in the 15k rankings and some don't). I was around a minute behind the 13th place guy, and half a minute in front of the 15th place guy. My main goal in the second half was to not get lost. Mission accomplished! I really tried to keep my focus. I don't want to jinx myself, but I've now gone four straight trail races without getting lost. Amazingly, the races I've not gotten lost in now outnumber the races where I have gotten lost.
And Helen wasn't alone in bringing home some hardware. I managed to bring home the heavily coveted 5th place M 30-39 award. Maybe this whole turning-forty thing isn't so bad.
It's an odd race. The course is a 15k (aka 9.3 mile) loop. You can race it once, you can race it twice, depending on if you want to go 15k (single trouble) or 30k (double trouble).
To be honest, I'd like to do a 30k trail race, but a two loop version of the race we just did didn't really appeal to me. It did appeal to Helen, but I kind of talked her out of it, which I feel kind of bad about now. Because the guy who won the men's 15k race finished 2nd in the 30k, and the guy who finished 3rd in the 15k won the 30k. Helen could've one-upped them, though. I'm sure she could have won both.
Obviously, this wasn’t the first race Helen won. But I can't remember her dominating a race like this one. The second woman didn't finish until four and half minutes after Helen.
I was generally pleased with my own race. I spent most of it alone - I finished 14th overall (although it's kind of complicated – for reasons I won't go into, some of the 30k racers who finished ahead of me count in the 15k rankings and some don't). I was around a minute behind the 13th place guy, and half a minute in front of the 15th place guy. My main goal in the second half was to not get lost. Mission accomplished! I really tried to keep my focus. I don't want to jinx myself, but I've now gone four straight trail races without getting lost. Amazingly, the races I've not gotten lost in now outnumber the races where I have gotten lost.
And Helen wasn't alone in bringing home some hardware. I managed to bring home the heavily coveted 5th place M 30-39 award. Maybe this whole turning-forty thing isn't so bad.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Broad Street Run 2009
This is Broad Street #9 for me. I used to think the people who run under 1:10 are crazy. But, here I am now, breaking 1:10 for the third time in a row. On the grand scheme of things, it is a really good result. In my narrow mind, however, I am disappointed. Even though life and health have gotten in the way of my running, I was still hoping to finish near last year's time of 1:02. I've been making excuses and rationalizing since the race ended. Since I've already blocked out the details of the race, I will just post these excuses, and then share the highlights of the day.Excuses
- Stomach ache all last week; leading up to diarrhea right before the start.
- Poor nutrition and hydration before and during the race. I must've stopped for a whole minute just trying to drink something.
- My hip and hamstrings have been bugging me ever since I ran the Tyler 10K and returned to the track. They also caused pain during the race.
- Rolled an ankle on the trails two weeks ago that I can still feel.
- My back and quads were constantly sore from packing, moving, and walking up three flights of stairs to do anything in the new house.
- Scored another 1 mile PR en route - 5:44.
- Seeing and hearing so many people I know running and cheering in spite of the rain.
- Post-race party featuring hot grill and hot tea.
- Coming home to this:
---Next race
- Possibly Mudder Mayhem on Saturday and definitely Race for the Cure on Sunday.
- When I get lazy with blog posts, I tweet. See right side bar for updates.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Layoff, Schmayoff
Saturday was Helen's long-awaited return to racing.
After her injury last fall, and her months of rehab, she rejoined the ranks of local racers at a 10-K race at Tyler Arboretum.
After her injury last fall, and her months of rehab, she rejoined the ranks of local racers at a 10-K race at Tyler Arboretum.
It's a nice race – 6.2 miles of rolling hills out in the woods. A trail race, but not nearly as technical as the other trail races we've done (or as the Wissahickon, for that matter). 300 or so runners. Helen did this race last year, and came in 3rd – behind fellow wanderer Sharon, and some other woman that we didn't know.
We weren't sure what to expect with the race. Helen was worried about running hard, after so much time off from racing. I tried to explain to Helen that she might not need to run hard, if she was going to win anyway! Maybe I was overly optimistic, though... No, alas, Helen did not come in first in the race.
She did come in 2nd, though. Not too shabby! Especially for the first race of the season! And the time was within a minute or so of her time last year, which bodes well for her overall fitness.
For me, this was the first time doing the race. I came to cheer Helen on last year, but it came one week after my marathon, so no way I was going to try running it. I liked the race, though. Boy, is it ever rolling! I was around 3-4 miles in when I realized just how rolling it was. The hills were never that steep, never that long, but they were pretty relentless.I was pleased with my own race. I finished 18th overall. 43:35, I think, which is my new 10-K pr. (The streak lives!) I was hoping for some sort of age group award, but it wasn't meant to be. (The organizers, who did an awesome job otherwise, did manage to screw up the handing out of awards, but that didn't change anything for me. I think I was 7th in my age group or something? Prizes three deep. And next year, things don't get any easier for 40-year-old Noah either). But I don't think I could have run much better than I did.
Next up for Helen? Maybe Clean Air, maybe not. Then on to Broad Street.
For me? Not sure. Maybe I'll actually run one of these 10-Ks on the road some day.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Caesar Rodney LBRR – The Streak Remains Intact
There's something I still don't get about racing. When I was playing team sports, the feeling was that if you practice slow, you play slow. In racing, you're supposed to go much slower in training runs, and then speed up when you race. I'm not sure where that speed comes from, though. I'd been doing some tempo runs when training for the Caesar Rodney Half-Marathon. Typically, I'd drive down to Valley Green, run a warm-up mile or so on Forbidden, then speed up for 2-3 miles, ending by going hard up the hill on Valley Green Drive until the top of that hill, by Chestnut Hill Academy. In the parts of the run on Forbidden, I'd been averaging somewhere in the 6:35-6:40 range. But that was hard. Really, hard, actually. No way, I though, could I do a half-marathon at that pace.
So I had to adjust my goals for Caesar Rodney. When I signed up, my very ambitious goal was to run it in 1:25. As it approached, I'd lowered my goals; I was still hoping to beat last year's time, and keep my streak intact. But the night before the race, when I wrote up my pace chart, I settled on a 6:45 pace, which means a total time or 1:28 and change. My thought was to stick with that for the first ten miles and then open up if I had the energy.
The race started out well. The first mile is downhill and really fast. I managed to bank around 20-25 seconds, which was around what I was hoping for. Things flatten out for the next few miles, as the course winds around Wilmington's little waterfront area. My goal was to keep those seconds banked until things started to climb in miles 4-8. I was able to do that quite comfortably. At that point in the race I was running pretty smoothly and easily, or at least that's how it felt. I wasn't running with anyone in particular – Chris Verry was heading off at a faster pace, which I knew would tire me out – but there was a good crowd of people around me.
Somewhere after mile 4, or really after mile 5 I guess, things start to climb. People think of it as a very hilly course, and I guess most courses are flatter, but it's not hilly compared to our neighborhood, and it's certainly not hilly compared to running in the Wissahickon, so I felt pretty good going up the long climb that winds through some park and ends out on a road sometime in the ninth mile of the race. And really, I felt good on the climb. At the start of the climb Helen was there to cheer me on, which gave me a lot of energy and just generally lifted my spirits. By the top of the climb I realized that I'd actually managed to hold on to the time I'd banked, and was still ahead of the schedule. At the ten mile mark I was able to open things enough. Yes, a girl did pass me at that point, but I still felt like I was running pretty well. Some guy in the crowd told me I was 84th, which was lower than I thought, since this part of the course was an out-and-back and there were plenty of people I'd seen going back when I was still going out.
The other nice thing about opening it up at mile 10 is that things are downhill for most of that. I'd stopped paying so much attention to my watch, but I was able to keep up a pretty good clip for the last three miles, and pass a bunch of people. I knew that the last section was the hardest part of the course, but I knew that I'd prepped for it and expected it to be ok. Same as last year, there's a hill that makes up the last 600 yards or so of the course that's pretty brutal. But this year, when I turned to go up it, not only was there no headwind, but I knew that it was exactly what I'd been training for with all those tempo-to-hill runs. I tried to remember all the different parts of the hill up from Valley Green, to make the Wilmington hill seem smaller.
That didn't quite work. But I did managed to go up the hill quicker than anyone else I saw around me. I heard Helen cheer me on. She said it looked like I was doing well, but I didn't even have it in me to look for her and wave. I felt kind of nauseous at that point, but I was able to keep going and even to pass a few more people before the finish line. My final time was 1:26 something. The pace on my 'gun time' (oh, yeah, there was a really loud gun at the start that set off a car alarm) was 6:37. I managed to keep that up for 13.1 miles. Still not sure how that works. I was in 72nd place, so I passed 10-12 people in the final three miles. Not bad.
Overall, I'm really pleased with my race. I could have trained harder, sure; but given the training I did, I'm not sure I could have run it any faster. And I think that this is a good distance for me. It's a good mix of relying on endurance and long-run training without being too grueling, and it doesn't have the 20-mile 'weekend-buster' long runs. And I'm hoping that the recovery is much faster than the marathon recovery, too.
So I had to adjust my goals for Caesar Rodney. When I signed up, my very ambitious goal was to run it in 1:25. As it approached, I'd lowered my goals; I was still hoping to beat last year's time, and keep my streak intact. But the night before the race, when I wrote up my pace chart, I settled on a 6:45 pace, which means a total time or 1:28 and change. My thought was to stick with that for the first ten miles and then open up if I had the energy.
The race started out well. The first mile is downhill and really fast. I managed to bank around 20-25 seconds, which was around what I was hoping for. Things flatten out for the next few miles, as the course winds around Wilmington's little waterfront area. My goal was to keep those seconds banked until things started to climb in miles 4-8. I was able to do that quite comfortably. At that point in the race I was running pretty smoothly and easily, or at least that's how it felt. I wasn't running with anyone in particular – Chris Verry was heading off at a faster pace, which I knew would tire me out – but there was a good crowd of people around me.
Somewhere after mile 4, or really after mile 5 I guess, things start to climb. People think of it as a very hilly course, and I guess most courses are flatter, but it's not hilly compared to our neighborhood, and it's certainly not hilly compared to running in the Wissahickon, so I felt pretty good going up the long climb that winds through some park and ends out on a road sometime in the ninth mile of the race. And really, I felt good on the climb. At the start of the climb Helen was there to cheer me on, which gave me a lot of energy and just generally lifted my spirits. By the top of the climb I realized that I'd actually managed to hold on to the time I'd banked, and was still ahead of the schedule. At the ten mile mark I was able to open things enough. Yes, a girl did pass me at that point, but I still felt like I was running pretty well. Some guy in the crowd told me I was 84th, which was lower than I thought, since this part of the course was an out-and-back and there were plenty of people I'd seen going back when I was still going out.
The other nice thing about opening it up at mile 10 is that things are downhill for most of that. I'd stopped paying so much attention to my watch, but I was able to keep up a pretty good clip for the last three miles, and pass a bunch of people. I knew that the last section was the hardest part of the course, but I knew that I'd prepped for it and expected it to be ok. Same as last year, there's a hill that makes up the last 600 yards or so of the course that's pretty brutal. But this year, when I turned to go up it, not only was there no headwind, but I knew that it was exactly what I'd been training for with all those tempo-to-hill runs. I tried to remember all the different parts of the hill up from Valley Green, to make the Wilmington hill seem smaller.
That didn't quite work. But I did managed to go up the hill quicker than anyone else I saw around me. I heard Helen cheer me on. She said it looked like I was doing well, but I didn't even have it in me to look for her and wave. I felt kind of nauseous at that point, but I was able to keep going and even to pass a few more people before the finish line. My final time was 1:26 something. The pace on my 'gun time' (oh, yeah, there was a really loud gun at the start that set off a car alarm) was 6:37. I managed to keep that up for 13.1 miles. Still not sure how that works. I was in 72nd place, so I passed 10-12 people in the final three miles. Not bad.
Overall, I'm really pleased with my race. I could have trained harder, sure; but given the training I did, I'm not sure I could have run it any faster. And I think that this is a good distance for me. It's a good mix of relying on endurance and long-run training without being too grueling, and it doesn't have the 20-mile 'weekend-buster' long runs. And I'm hoping that the recovery is much faster than the marathon recovery, too.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Half Wit Race LBRR – Proud of Helen; Of Myself, Not So Much.
I've been a bit slow getting a race report up to the blog. This for a few reasons. The end of the summer work-crunch, for one. And I did get a Wanderers report up to the club website. But I've also not felt so good about my race in general.
I'm super proud of Helen. She won this race going away. She did this despite having a few weaknesses in her trail game. She did this despite a mishap around four miles in when I led her off course (about which more later). And she did this despite showing up at the finishing line with scratches on both legs, both arms, her right hip, and even her tummy. Still won by seven minutes. Going into the race I was pretty sure that she would beat me. That didn't turn out to be the case, but another mile or so and she would have caught me, that I'm sure of. I was beaten at the end, she still had plenty of energy. Of course, when you win by seven minutes, you have that option!
I'm less proud of my own race, though. I had three goals going in: don't get hurt; keep my spirits up. and don't go off course. I went one for three.
Helen and I agreed that we would separate at some point, which I was guessing would be the first major technical downhill. That guess turned out to be accurate. My approach was much like the earlier races: go out fairly hard, get some open space for the hills, and then hang on. I just wanted to be more careful about seeing trail markers this time. The last two times I went off course it was from following other runners.
I don't blame myself for going off course. I was more careful this time, but someone stole the trail markers. At two crucial spots.
The first was the one around mile four. I was running on my own at that point. There was a fairly big group ahead of me, probably around 25 guys, but they were well out of sight. I didn't know too much about what was behind me, but Helen had been with me until fairly recently and I passed maybe 3 guys since we separated. At one point I realized that I hadn't seen a marker for a while. I didn't know for sure that I was off course until I managed to see a whole bunch of people coming towards me. I'd somehow reconnected with the route out!
At that point I knew we were off, so I turned around. Panicked, but trying to keep cool.
We figured out that we were basically directly above where we were supposed to be. I'd missed a turn-off down the hill and kept going. No one else had seen it, either.
Turns out, it had been stolen. Or at least, that's what I think happened.
Some people started bushwhacking down the hill and I followed suit. Eventually we met up with another trail and took it. This led to markers! We were back on the route!
I was feeling pretty good about the route at that point. I'd gone off track, yes, but I'd gotten back on and I'd kept my cool. At that point, my biggest fear was that I'd cut a huge part of the course off and that I was now leading the race. At mile 6 or so there was a water stop, where they reassured me. That was not the case. And no women had passed yet, so I figured that Helen was still winning. I was thinking at this point, no harm done, and I'd kept my cool. What I didn't know was that the bushwhacking portion had taken a lot more out of Helen than it had me. She really hadn't liked that bushwhacking section.
The rest of the race, up until mile 12, went well. I was paying the price for having gone out too fast, but I was ok with that. Or at least, I knew that it was a conscious choice. I'd been able to do what I wanted on the uphills (go pretty slow) and on the down (let loose) without worrying about other people.
The course itself is kind of strange –it's like a 10 mile loop, with a 3 mile lollipop added on at mile 9. My problem came after the lollipop. I came out onto the road, and a guy I recognized (one of the RDs at Charlie Horse) told me to turn left. If he'd said, "Turn left, then left into the woods in 200 yards" I'd have been fine. But he just said turn left. So I headed down the road. I got to one part which I couldn't make sense of – a bunch of chalk on the ground, a cone on the ground. That was it. The chalk looked like it might say to go straight. But it definitely was NOT an arrow.
I later found out that there, again, people had stolen signs. Taken down indicators. That was by vandals. Volunteers had taken away two of the three cones, and not kept a person there. So I just went down the road, until someone behind me yelled out to me. At that point I had to turn back.
And that's the moment I just couldn't recover from. It was disheartening, and still is, to see people I'd outrun just going past me, in a spot that I can't have been expected to be able to identify.
What did I lose? 2-3 minutes. Probably 6 places (or at least, that's the maximum). 2 guys passed me on my out-and-back, 3 more right as I went in, and then 1 more later on. It didn't cost me a prize. But I lost my cool, and I'd really been hoping on not having that happen. Turned out that I had the mental strength to go off course once early on, but not twice, and not late.
I didn't actually yell at anyone. And I was there to cheer Helen on. I'm glad about that. But I need to find a way to either stay on course or at least stay cheerful. Maybe if I go out a little easier that would help, if I'm not running tired at the end. Might try that next time.
So that's how my race went.
I also wrote a report up for the wanderer's site with some more details, including the impressive showing by Chris in the half-wit drinking contest.
Monday, August 4, 2008
LBRR – Patriot's 50-mile "half-lite" triathlon
So I've followed up last week's first-century-of-the-season with my first triathlon of the season.
Again, pretty late in the season; at this time last year I'd already done the Devilman half and Anthracite. And then proceeded to not do any more triathlons until yesterday.
The race yesterday was somewhere between an Oly and a half-iron. Total of 50 miles; 1300 meter swim, 41 mile bike, 7.6 mile run. I wasn't to hyped for it – I've been running a lot and biking a fair amount. And swimming once a week or so, but really not much. But I'd been wanting to do at least one tri, and some fellow wanderers – Chris, Polly, Matt – were doing this one, which I figured (correctly) would make racing more interesting than doing one where either I went on my own and didn't know anyone or where Helen came with me and we didn't know anyone else. This was especially good yesterday as Helen ran 20 miles (!) on Saturday, limiting how much she could run during the race itself.
Anyway, some notes.
First, some notes on the race itself, borrowing Helen's G/B/U format:
The Good
This was a nice venue and a nice distance. I've noticed a lot that RDs try too hard to get their races to fit a specific distance – Oly, HIM, IM – when the local terrain really fits better with a different distance. (Anthracite is a case in point – the 24 mile bike consists of a 20 mile loop and a 2 mile out-and-back. It would be a better race, in my opinion, if it was just a 20 mile bike ride. But then it wouldn't be an Oly, so they put in the out and back). Overall a well-organized race. And the roads out there on the bike were nice and scenic; the run was less scenic but shaded, and that was a trade-off I'd take any day.
The Bad
The bike route consisted of three loops. Not my thing. Again, I know my vision of a point-to-point IM isn't going to happen, but I still would have liked to see more than I did. Yes, there are advantages – going around the same turn 3 times you get to know what line to take and how much to slow down – but it would be nicer to get to see more.
I'm also not a fan of combining longer and sprint tris on the same route at the same time, as this race does. I like how the Philly Tri does it – sprint on Saturday, Oly on Sunday. Devilman was the worst, knowing that you've got 13 miles to run and seeing the sprint racers driving away. This wasn't as bad, but it still adds to the confusion.
The Ugly
There were just over 100 people who did the 50-miler. I don't understand why the swim start didn't include waves. It was all of us heading out at the same time. Most cramped swim I've ever done. Yes, I know that IMs are like that, but that's supposed to be part of the experience. And those are usually in huge lakes. This was a pretty small pond. Most I've ever been hit during the swim. Early on I even turned and yelled at someone who, from what I can tell, was trying to drag my legs down. I think that the general rule of thumb, if you're going to swim over someone, is that you need to actually be swimming faster than them!
It also seemed like they didn't have that many kayaks out there, which surprised me considering how many people have died in tri swims recently.
Make this a wave start swim, and it's instantly a much better race.
*******
Ok, now some notes on my race.
It'd be easy to reuse the G/B/U format here, which would be reversed to U/B/G. Out of 105 finishers I had the 46th fastest swim, 37th fastest bike, and – wait for it – 5th fastest run.
But that doesn't really fit with how I feel about my race. First off, while I thought that the swim itself was ugly, I was pleased with my performance. I barely swam all winter and spring, and still managed to
I’m surprised that my run was the 5th highest split, which seems to me to say something about the field. But I'm still really pleased with it. It's the fastest I've gone on a tri run, faster than last year's (shorter) anthracite run. I was hoping to go sub-7, and did! (Yes, 6:59 counts!) And I kept my streak of not getting passed on the run.
Overall, the race reflects the training I've done. They say that the way to get faster at triathlons is to swim with swimmers, bike with cyclists, and run with runners. I run with runners; I bike on my own; and I hardly swim.
And I was right about a race being more fun when there are other friends there. Nice hanging out before and after with Chris, Polly and Matt. I think it made things a lot more interesting for Helen, too.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
CharlieHorse Trail Half-Marathon: LBRR
I already included some notes on my own performance, but Helen insists that a whole Race Report is in order, so here goes.
As I'd been thinking about trail half-marathons, I'd figured out a couple of things.
One, I think I'm better at trail running than road running. Second, I think that the half-marathon is a good distance for me. Third, unlike Helen, I'm really more of a negative-split guy. And fourth, I think that trail running, more than road running, favors positive splits.
So the first two really make the trail half-marathon my best event. The last two, not so much. The reason I say that positive splitting is important in trail running is because positioning can be so important. You can have something in a trail race like a downed log that takes 5 seconds to cross, but that only one person at a time can go over. So you can get to that log 10 seconds behind another runner, but 5 places behind them. By the time you're on the other side of the log, you're the same 5 places back, but now you're 30 seconds behind them.
Or maybe it's not a downed log. Maybe it's a river crossing. Or two, right at the start of the race. That's what they had on Sunday at Charliehorse.
And actually, when they gave the description of the course, I realized that I could take a more conservative approach than might be in order at Half-Wit. There's the two quick river crossings (one more a bottleneck than the other), then there's a bunch of trail, then miles 9 through 12 were actually an up and down three miles of road. So I picked my strategy: go hard through the water crossings; conservative until the road. Then I'd pass a lot of people running up the hill that started at mile 11.5.
I still think that this is a good strategy. And I stuck with it for more than the first half of the race. I was probably in around 12th-15th place through the first 8 miles or so. I was doing pretty well, too. I was tired, and kinda sore, but overall comfortable. I also realized that compared to some of the other runners I was near, I was more comfortable on the trails, especially on the downhills.
The problem came when, sometime after mile 8, I went off course. My reasons for doing this: first, I was following the guys ahead of me, and trusting them; when we did go off course, it was because we went onto the road, at approximately the right time to have gone onto the road; third, while it wasn't a super confusing spot in the race, there were far less confusing points that had volunteers telling people which way to go. And that's my biggest gripe: a race has to be consistent about the degree of difficulty in determining which direction to go, and the amount of instruction.
So onto the road I went, with 4-5 other guys in front of me. Finally, one guy turned back, realized that we weren't going in the right direction. I didn't know what to do. I think I did 3 180s during this time. Finally, I went back up, found where we'd gotten off, and got back in. Soon I was back on marked trails. But I was beaten. I just didn't have it anymore.
I lost around 3-4 minutes during this time. Ironically, I think that I placed higher than I would have otherwise; there were probably only 2-3 guys in front of me that had times slower than I would have had had I stayed on course, which was fewer than the number of guys who went further off course than I did.
I wound up finishing 11th, which, when I think about it, is pretty impressive. I also got 3rd place in my age group. I'm much more excited about the 11th place overall, though. I guess the real message is to be more ready for adversity; I've done two trail races and gone off course in both, and both times it really got to me. The first time it made me angry; the second was more disheartening, and that's what I've gotta be able to get past.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Broad Street Run 2008 LSRR
All last week, I had recurring nightmares that I forgot to bring shorts to the Broad Street Run, and I’d have to run in the sweatpants that I wore to the starting line. I’d tried to stay sleeping to find out what happens next in the dream -- but the race just wouldn’t start… the race officials weren’t ready and postponed the start time. And then, I’d wake up from the dream and tell Noah, who as the one guy in the household (assuming Mickey is no longer with us), wonder if I ran in just underwear. I should’ve written about this last week, but I was busy tapering and telling myself how uncharacteristically calm I felt about the big race.But if my dreams weren’t an indication of my nerves, the freak-out at the Expo upon seeing my F-bib certainly foreshadowed my mental state for the next two days. I’ve never had a seeded number before, felt that it’s a jinx, and just the thought of lining up in vicinity of the Kenyans made my knees weak. On race day, I took a peek at the elite runners at the front and made the easy decision to start behind the seeded section. Afterall, I didn’t feel fresh or confident, and I thought it’d take a perfect day to run among these people.
Here is my mile-by-mile race report (with estimated splits):
- 1- 6:00 (More weaving through the field than I expected, but the pace was comfortable. I was shocked to see the 6 on the clock.)
- 2- 6:12 (First subway train roared past us underneath)
- 3- 6:12 (I was either tired or bored. Either way, I felt like I was starting to fade already.)
- 4- 6:12 (Decided to hit “split” on my stopwatch but couldn’t read the screen. Another subway went by.)
- 5- 6:11 (The course opened up as we went around City Hall and all the runners tried to pick the best, different tangents to run in. Someone’s boombox blasted a song about hurting. I noticed a major improvement this year: NOT putting a water stop here in the narrowest part of the course.)
- 6- 6:17 (Missed Ed Rendell once again.)
- 7- 6:27 (I had spent all my energy. My gel was buried in my zipper back pocket, but eventually I got it out and gulped it down. Seeing Farrah and Brad waving and cheering saved me from going even slower.)
- 8- 6:20 (Stopped for water. I heard another subway pass us and it was tempting.)
- 9- 6:30 (It was surreal that my legs were still moving since I was completely exhausted. I saw Kevin, Noah, and Leah out there, and that gave me a huge boost. At least no one was passing me.)
- 10- 6:10 (Gasping for air, wishing that I have bigger nostrils, and “sprinting” to the end.)
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
P.S. Happy Birthday
The awkward phase. At the sight of a bunch of happy, skinny runners doing striders, I felt intimidated, tired, and needed to pee. I told myself just to make the best of the race, not worry about what other people are doing, and go for time. I seeded myself behind four rows of taller people and nervously listened to the pre-race announcements.
Regret. I gazed longingly at the turnaround cone, placed much farther down this year, and tried to hang on to Kevin because he seemed to be going steady. In doing so, I passed two women, and I could see a green uniform about 10 yards ahead of me. At this point, my breathing was much more labored and my legs were turning over furiously. I told myself two things: “Focus on moving” and “I am not doing another 5K ever again.” I finally reached the turnaround cone… 1.6 more to go. This was going to hurt.
Drama. Something is wrong -- no one around me is slowing down. There wasn’t a clock at mile 2, so I glanced down at my watch (not sure why I didn’t just hit the split button) and I think it said 11:something. I was on personal record pace, but when will I fade? The last mile of the course is slightly uphill and the surface is slanted. I was digging deep. I noticed that I am picking up ground on the green shirt, at whom spectators are yelling “first woman”. That put me second, and I’d be happy with that. I tucked behind her and let her pull me forward. And then for no reason other than for some clean air, I pulled up next to her. We ran side by side for a minute. It must’ve been exciting to watch, as people were cheering for us. That gave me extra energy. Somehow, either she dropped back or I took some big strides, but I broke away. What next? We weren’t near the finish at all. I couldn’t look back, but I was scared to death of being outkicked at the finish line. Especially as I don’t have much reserved in the tank. And my lungs were burning. I looked ahead and spotted Kevin, but he’s clearly gone. When I passed the 3 mile marker, I shifted to my highest gear for the longest 0.1 mile of my life.
Déjà vu. Some guy blew pass me as I stepped on the chip mat. The clock read 18:40. Just earlier in the week, after doing 15x400s at 1:30 on the track, I was wondering out loud about whether it’s possible to run 6 minute pace in a 5K. I thought that I could do it -- with fresh legs, in the Fall, if I work on it over the summer. Somehow I did just that here. Yet, given last year’s fiasco, it wasn’t until I overheard a guy saying that the course is long according to his Garmin that I was able to accept that this time is legit. What a race! I shook hands with some familiar faces, cheered for other runners (also directed them to the real finish line, which was after the fake finish line), and jogged to the potty at Lloyd Hall as warm down.
(I know this is the longest race report ever written for a 5K, but it's not like I break a personal record every time.)
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
HTH?: Tyler Arboretum 10K
Tyler Arboretum 10KConditions: Cloudy, 50 degrees
Course: The whole race was either uphill or downhill on soft trails. Four creek crossings. (see left)
Groupie of: Wissahickon Wanderers
Time: 46:03
Place: 3rd Female of 51; 26th overall out of 163
Highlights:
(1) Finishing
(2) Not spraining either ankle
(3) Not wandering off course (volunteers were fantastic and course was well marked)
(4) Getting a PR in a 10K
(5) The beer after at the Iron Hill brewery
Lowpoints:
(1) Legs were tired before the start
(2) To save legs, I decided not to warm up
(3) Starting out too hard; slugging out every mile
(4) Feeling hungry during the race despite having banana bread in the car
Morning after opinion: This race is too fast for my taste. I would've liked to slow down and enjoy the scenery a little more.
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