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 trail running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trail running. Show all posts
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Running these days
We've been dominating the screwshoes hashtag on Twitter. Helen, Leo, myself – we've got pretty much all the entries. Turns out it isn't a big trender.
I'm the only one that's actually been using them. So simple, yet so effective: screw a bunch of screws into the bottom of your shoes, and there you have it: screwshoes. Run on ice, run in slush and snow. As long as you don't sink in too much, you're good to go.
Because these days, running means running in snow, running on ice, running through slush. It's a hassle, and it's harder. But overall, that trade-off is worth it. It's stunningly beautiful. Especially in the sun, with the bright snow. Forbidden Drive and most of the Wissahickon's trails are runnable. The trails aren't easy running – or, at least, they aren't fast. They're probably less technical than they normally are though.
The snow – even the packed snow – means a softer run, too. This morning was my long run; probably ran 15-16 miles, after running 9 yesterday. That makes this a big weekend for me, but I don't feel beat-up. Tired, yes, but not beat up. This despite the shoes I'm wearing, my 'screw balances,' an old pair of new balances with 400+ miles in them that never had much cushioning to begin with.
There's a lot to like about snow running.
But I miss running with Helen.
I got into this sport with Helen – she's my #1 running partner, and always will be. I'm hoping that somewhere down the line, the little guy she's been carrying around in her tummy is going to become #1a. But right now, it's an in-between period. Helen's doing a good job of running through pregnancy, especially now that her hip's better, so we still run some together. But we can't log the miles together that I'm used to, that she's used to. I know that, as far as pregnancy issues goes, this is small, and that dads-to-be aren't supposed to whine. But I'm looking forward to the day when we can hand the kid off to his grandparents and disappear into the woods together for a few hours. I hope that there's snow then, too.
I'm the only one that's actually been using them. So simple, yet so effective: screw a bunch of screws into the bottom of your shoes, and there you have it: screwshoes. Run on ice, run in slush and snow. As long as you don't sink in too much, you're good to go.
Because these days, running means running in snow, running on ice, running through slush. It's a hassle, and it's harder. But overall, that trade-off is worth it. It's stunningly beautiful. Especially in the sun, with the bright snow. Forbidden Drive and most of the Wissahickon's trails are runnable. The trails aren't easy running – or, at least, they aren't fast. They're probably less technical than they normally are though.
The snow – even the packed snow – means a softer run, too. This morning was my long run; probably ran 15-16 miles, after running 9 yesterday. That makes this a big weekend for me, but I don't feel beat-up. Tired, yes, but not beat up. This despite the shoes I'm wearing, my 'screw balances,' an old pair of new balances with 400+ miles in them that never had much cushioning to begin with.
There's a lot to like about snow running.
But I miss running with Helen.
I got into this sport with Helen – she's my #1 running partner, and always will be. I'm hoping that somewhere down the line, the little guy she's been carrying around in her tummy is going to become #1a. But right now, it's an in-between period. Helen's doing a good job of running through pregnancy, especially now that her hip's better, so we still run some together. But we can't log the miles together that I'm used to, that she's used to. I know that, as far as pregnancy issues goes, this is small, and that dads-to-be aren't supposed to whine. But I'm looking forward to the day when we can hand the kid off to his grandparents and disappear into the woods together for a few hours. I hope that there's snow then, too.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Best Runs of the Year – 2010
2010 has been a good year for running. Helen and I re-ran some classic routes and discovered some new ones. We ran in Philly and New England, we ran in France, and we ran in Morocco. We've now run together in five countries on four continents and, by my count, seven U.S. states. We had some of our biggest adventure runs this year – no monkeys, perhaps, but there were some rather ominous cows, some major climbs, and some serious weather.
A good year for running, although I'm not sure I could call it a great year for running. Helen was dinged-up for much of it, pregnant for the rest, with some overlap to boot. This ruled out epic runs like our '08 mountain runs in Provence and Hong Kong, and our biggest adventure journey – a day in the Atlas mountains of Morocco – was a hike instead of a run. And it wasn't a great year for racing. I did PR in the half-marathon, and ran my first ultra; on the down side, though, the streak ended, and the last 10 miles of that ultra were pretty dreary.
But there were still more great runs than anyone deserves, and it's nice to take the time to relive some of them. So, here they are, in chronological order:
The Abbreviated-Four-Corners-Extended-Cake Run
This winter was different from previous winters just in the sheer quantity of snow here in Philly. Eventually I'd get tired of it, but at this point, we weren't there yet. Helen and I had planned on running the four corners with fellow wanderers Leo and Pete. It's a daunting run in any conditions, but with over a foot of fresh powder, there was No Way. What was supposed to be 21 miles in around 3.5 hours became 12 in three-plus hours. But what it lacked in speed and distance it made up for in pure fun. And cake!
The Pre-Wedding run
This run starts off a good series. This was, in one sense, just the normal Thursday-night Wanderers run. But since it was two days before our wedding, we treated that run as the start of our wedding festivities. got some extra friends to join us, ran in our 'bride and groom' baseball caps... there was even more cake afterward!
Running in Nice
We did a few runs in Nice, but it was the first one that stands out – running up in the hills above the city, going up in the gardens and the smaller roads in the hills. The conditions, the new scenery, made the run great; but it was also a great feeling being there, the relaxation of the honeymoon, the break in our routines.
Running through the Medina
The next great Honeymoon Run.
We'd had a great hike in the Atlas Mountains the day before. Beautiful, empty, with great vistas. Walking around Marrakesh had been different – exciting but hectic, with pedestrians, donkeys, motorcycles and cars all hustling for the same space. Early in the morning? That's a different story. So Helen and I woke up early and headed out, running free through the streets before the hustle began.
Running in Essouria
This was the other city in Morocco we visited – along the Atlantic coast. The city itself is quite small, so when we ran we ventured outside of it. We found some roads that followed along the ocean – one was clearly *the* place to run, but the other – a quasi-abandoned quasi-road – that was the fun part. We were brave and went past the cows that were off to the side of the road. The next hear, though, the ones blocking the road – that's where we decided to turn back. A few too many bulls.
Double Trouble
This year, we decided to do it up, and do the whole thing twice. Not sure it was the wise thing, but it worked out well for Helen, as she was able to win the long version going away. (We later learned that she was pregnant during the race, but we didn't know that then). I struggled in the last quarter of the race, but I enjoyed the first three quarters a lot, and also enjoyed hanging out in the park afterward.
Beartown State Forest
Helen and I have been going to Beartown State Forest for a few years, almost every time we go up to Great Barrington. We'd always been trying to find routes to take along the trails and skipping the roads. This time, though, we were wary of doing the actual trails. (I don't remember why exactly – Helen's ankle maybe?) So instead of the trails, we stuck with the roads in the park. Turns out they're *great* running roads. Like a network of Forbidden Drives. We'd been avoiding them the whole time, but it turns out that they might be what's best about running in the park.
Half-Wit Half
This is an annual. It's almost at the point that it's what I think of when I think of summer. Running through the woods, up and down the crazy hills (and stairs!), trying to stay on course. This was the second straight year that I stayed on course, and the second straight year I age-grouped. It was the first year that I wasn't faster than the year before, and Helen only finished second (I know, right?). I also felt like I left a minute or two on the course, but you know what? That was ok – part of the fun of half-wit is running it, but a lot of the fun is hanging out afterward, sitting around with the horde of other Wanderers.
Stumpy's Marathon
This wasn't a normal marathon; it was a trail run guaranteed to be "at least" 26 miles, running through the woods in Delaware. It took me 4 hours - I was able to run the first three hours with Bob Reynolds. Keeping up with him for those three hours probably hurt me during the fourth, though – something of a death-march toward the end. I liked the approach, though, and I liked those woods. And I liked the fact that I was able to just go out and run 26 miles and not have to spend two weeks tapering and then two recovering.
The Hamlet run
During the fall, I'd run home from work once most weeks. It takes some planning, because while I can bring as much stuff *too* work as I want, I try to run home with as little as possible – usually, a few bucks, my keys, my faculty i.d. Leaving my phone at home is easy enough. The course reading is the complication. Sometimes I'll scan something in and email it home; sometimes it doesn't matter, because I've taught the material enough to not have to worry about it. But in mid-semester I was teaching Hamlet for the first time, and didn't want to go two days without the book. In part, it was for class prep, in part it was just because I wanted to keep reading it. So I put my copy of Hamlet in a plastic bag and ran home – 11 miles – with the book in my hand.
The run wasn't great, to be honest – it certainly wasn't one of the year's best. But I've been looking for an excuse to write about running 11 miles with a copy of Hamlet in my hand, and this was it.
Philly Marathon Half-Marathon
It was a great year for running; it wasn't a great year for racing. But I did manage to PR at the Philly Marathon Half-Marathon, beating my previous time by a minute on a beautiful fall day.
Racing-wise, I don't know what's in store for next year. I'm thinking about focusing more on 5ks and 10ks. I've definitely got no plans to race another marathon.
But running will have to take a back seat, too... runner # 3 is on his way, but it's gonna take him a little while to get up to speed. For now, I'm thankful for the year of running that we've had, and I'm looking forward to all of the adventures that 2011 has in store.
A good year for running, although I'm not sure I could call it a great year for running. Helen was dinged-up for much of it, pregnant for the rest, with some overlap to boot. This ruled out epic runs like our '08 mountain runs in Provence and Hong Kong, and our biggest adventure journey – a day in the Atlas mountains of Morocco – was a hike instead of a run. And it wasn't a great year for racing. I did PR in the half-marathon, and ran my first ultra; on the down side, though, the streak ended, and the last 10 miles of that ultra were pretty dreary.
But there were still more great runs than anyone deserves, and it's nice to take the time to relive some of them. So, here they are, in chronological order:
The Abbreviated-Four-Corners-Extended-Cake Run
This winter was different from previous winters just in the sheer quantity of snow here in Philly. Eventually I'd get tired of it, but at this point, we weren't there yet. Helen and I had planned on running the four corners with fellow wanderers Leo and Pete. It's a daunting run in any conditions, but with over a foot of fresh powder, there was No Way. What was supposed to be 21 miles in around 3.5 hours became 12 in three-plus hours. But what it lacked in speed and distance it made up for in pure fun. And cake!
The Pre-Wedding run
This run starts off a good series. This was, in one sense, just the normal Thursday-night Wanderers run. But since it was two days before our wedding, we treated that run as the start of our wedding festivities. got some extra friends to join us, ran in our 'bride and groom' baseball caps... there was even more cake afterward!
Running in Nice
We did a few runs in Nice, but it was the first one that stands out – running up in the hills above the city, going up in the gardens and the smaller roads in the hills. The conditions, the new scenery, made the run great; but it was also a great feeling being there, the relaxation of the honeymoon, the break in our routines.
Running through the Medina
The next great Honeymoon Run.
We'd had a great hike in the Atlas Mountains the day before. Beautiful, empty, with great vistas. Walking around Marrakesh had been different – exciting but hectic, with pedestrians, donkeys, motorcycles and cars all hustling for the same space. Early in the morning? That's a different story. So Helen and I woke up early and headed out, running free through the streets before the hustle began.
Running in Essouria
This was the other city in Morocco we visited – along the Atlantic coast. The city itself is quite small, so when we ran we ventured outside of it. We found some roads that followed along the ocean – one was clearly *the* place to run, but the other – a quasi-abandoned quasi-road – that was the fun part. We were brave and went past the cows that were off to the side of the road. The next hear, though, the ones blocking the road – that's where we decided to turn back. A few too many bulls.
Double Trouble
This year, we decided to do it up, and do the whole thing twice. Not sure it was the wise thing, but it worked out well for Helen, as she was able to win the long version going away. (We later learned that she was pregnant during the race, but we didn't know that then). I struggled in the last quarter of the race, but I enjoyed the first three quarters a lot, and also enjoyed hanging out in the park afterward.
Beartown State Forest
Helen and I have been going to Beartown State Forest for a few years, almost every time we go up to Great Barrington. We'd always been trying to find routes to take along the trails and skipping the roads. This time, though, we were wary of doing the actual trails. (I don't remember why exactly – Helen's ankle maybe?) So instead of the trails, we stuck with the roads in the park. Turns out they're *great* running roads. Like a network of Forbidden Drives. We'd been avoiding them the whole time, but it turns out that they might be what's best about running in the park.
Half-Wit Half
This is an annual. It's almost at the point that it's what I think of when I think of summer. Running through the woods, up and down the crazy hills (and stairs!), trying to stay on course. This was the second straight year that I stayed on course, and the second straight year I age-grouped. It was the first year that I wasn't faster than the year before, and Helen only finished second (I know, right?). I also felt like I left a minute or two on the course, but you know what? That was ok – part of the fun of half-wit is running it, but a lot of the fun is hanging out afterward, sitting around with the horde of other Wanderers.
Stumpy's Marathon
This wasn't a normal marathon; it was a trail run guaranteed to be "at least" 26 miles, running through the woods in Delaware. It took me 4 hours - I was able to run the first three hours with Bob Reynolds. Keeping up with him for those three hours probably hurt me during the fourth, though – something of a death-march toward the end. I liked the approach, though, and I liked those woods. And I liked the fact that I was able to just go out and run 26 miles and not have to spend two weeks tapering and then two recovering.
The Hamlet run
During the fall, I'd run home from work once most weeks. It takes some planning, because while I can bring as much stuff *too* work as I want, I try to run home with as little as possible – usually, a few bucks, my keys, my faculty i.d. Leaving my phone at home is easy enough. The course reading is the complication. Sometimes I'll scan something in and email it home; sometimes it doesn't matter, because I've taught the material enough to not have to worry about it. But in mid-semester I was teaching Hamlet for the first time, and didn't want to go two days without the book. In part, it was for class prep, in part it was just because I wanted to keep reading it. So I put my copy of Hamlet in a plastic bag and ran home – 11 miles – with the book in my hand.
The run wasn't great, to be honest – it certainly wasn't one of the year's best. But I've been looking for an excuse to write about running 11 miles with a copy of Hamlet in my hand, and this was it.
Philly Marathon Half-Marathon
It was a great year for running; it wasn't a great year for racing. But I did manage to PR at the Philly Marathon Half-Marathon, beating my previous time by a minute on a beautiful fall day.
Racing-wise, I don't know what's in store for next year. I'm thinking about focusing more on 5ks and 10ks. I've definitely got no plans to race another marathon.
But running will have to take a back seat, too... runner # 3 is on his way, but it's gonna take him a little while to get up to speed. For now, I'm thankful for the year of running that we've had, and I'm looking forward to all of the adventures that 2011 has in store.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Turning the Page
This morning's run was cold. Sunny, blue skies, but cold.
It was a strange fall; it seemed like the whole time it was fall, it was feeling like it had just been summer. Now, all of a sudden it's winter.
It's nice, though, because the weather is cooperating with a whole lot of other changes. It's just past Thanksgiving, meaning that it's Christmas season. I'm finally done my fall racing season. I'm practically done my semester. So it felt good to be out there this morning, running with the wanderers, wearing my tights and gloves and hat and jacket.
It felt good to be back on the trails, too. I'd been staying off of them in the weeks leading up to the Philly Half, since you never know when you'll turn an ankle and ruin your race, or else just totally biff, scrape your face up, and ruin your race pics. In those weeks, though, the trails changed; they're not the fall trails of changing leaves anymore, they're the winter trails, with the sun shining through the barren trees.
I don't know what this winter has in store, and I don't know what I want to accomplish. It was hard to run in last winter's snow; but I let that dictate my runs too much. It took a while this year – all of spring, part of summer – to make up for what I didn't run in the winter. I could make a point of avoiding that this year. But next year's a bit different anyway, what with the piglet on his way, and the probability that even if I'm running much next spring, I won't be sleeping much.
On Thanksgiving morning, we were at the Whole Paycheck, doing some last-minute shopping. I saw some popsicles in the frozen foods aisle. I remembered getting a popsicle on the way up to Great Barrington, how refreshing and cooling it was on that hot summer night. There will be more popsicles, but not for a while, not for a while.
It was a strange fall; it seemed like the whole time it was fall, it was feeling like it had just been summer. Now, all of a sudden it's winter.
It's nice, though, because the weather is cooperating with a whole lot of other changes. It's just past Thanksgiving, meaning that it's Christmas season. I'm finally done my fall racing season. I'm practically done my semester. So it felt good to be out there this morning, running with the wanderers, wearing my tights and gloves and hat and jacket.
It felt good to be back on the trails, too. I'd been staying off of them in the weeks leading up to the Philly Half, since you never know when you'll turn an ankle and ruin your race, or else just totally biff, scrape your face up, and ruin your race pics. In those weeks, though, the trails changed; they're not the fall trails of changing leaves anymore, they're the winter trails, with the sun shining through the barren trees.
I don't know what this winter has in store, and I don't know what I want to accomplish. It was hard to run in last winter's snow; but I let that dictate my runs too much. It took a while this year – all of spring, part of summer – to make up for what I didn't run in the winter. I could make a point of avoiding that this year. But next year's a bit different anyway, what with the piglet on his way, and the probability that even if I'm running much next spring, I won't be sleeping much.
On Thanksgiving morning, we were at the Whole Paycheck, doing some last-minute shopping. I saw some popsicles in the frozen foods aisle. I remembered getting a popsicle on the way up to Great Barrington, how refreshing and cooling it was on that hot summer night. There will be more popsicles, but not for a while, not for a while.
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.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Ready or not...
This weekend represents my first entry into the world of ultrarunning.
I'm signed up for the Blues Cruise 50k.
50k.
That's 31 miles... significantly more running than I've ever done. And, perhaps, significantly more running than I ever should have planned on doing. I might be up to this; I probably am ready; but I'm really not sure.
My running mileage has been in the 50s lately, I think – maybe high 40s. I don't usually add it up. My sense is that's a little light for a 50k, but maybe not excessively so. The biking will help. I have two 20+ runs, one the 26.8 mile Trail Dawgs Quasi-marathon. And yeah, that one didn't go so well. At least the fourth hour didn't.
I do have hopes that the last miles of the Blues Cruise will go better than the last miles of the Quasi-Marathon. That one I didn't taper for, didn't eat right for, basically tried to train through. I also ran it in running shoes that had long since lost any padding. For Blues Cruise, I'm tapering (probably not enough, but I am tapering), going a few days without booze, and trying to generally get ready for it. I also have my new, new trail running shoes – although there, too, I'm not without concerns. They'll only have around 40 miles on them, if that; the longest run was 19 miles, a run that was supposed to be 22 but which I cut short. I blame the socks I was wearing that day, but still – it'd be nice to know more about how I like the shoes. But then, I ran in my old Cascadias today, and they're done.
At least it's rained. The ground shouldn't be that hard.
I'm also planning on not going out that hard. It's tough, though – with such a long race, even going fast, you'll be out there way longer than is necessary. Go out to slow, you're looking at more than 5 hours running. That, I may not be up for.
I'm signed up for the Blues Cruise 50k.
50k.
That's 31 miles... significantly more running than I've ever done. And, perhaps, significantly more running than I ever should have planned on doing. I might be up to this; I probably am ready; but I'm really not sure.
My running mileage has been in the 50s lately, I think – maybe high 40s. I don't usually add it up. My sense is that's a little light for a 50k, but maybe not excessively so. The biking will help. I have two 20+ runs, one the 26.8 mile Trail Dawgs Quasi-marathon. And yeah, that one didn't go so well. At least the fourth hour didn't.
I do have hopes that the last miles of the Blues Cruise will go better than the last miles of the Quasi-Marathon. That one I didn't taper for, didn't eat right for, basically tried to train through. I also ran it in running shoes that had long since lost any padding. For Blues Cruise, I'm tapering (probably not enough, but I am tapering), going a few days without booze, and trying to generally get ready for it. I also have my new, new trail running shoes – although there, too, I'm not without concerns. They'll only have around 40 miles on them, if that; the longest run was 19 miles, a run that was supposed to be 22 but which I cut short. I blame the socks I was wearing that day, but still – it'd be nice to know more about how I like the shoes. But then, I ran in my old Cascadias today, and they're done.
At least it's rained. The ground shouldn't be that hard.
I'm also planning on not going out that hard. It's tough, though – with such a long race, even going fast, you'll be out there way longer than is necessary. Go out to slow, you're looking at more than 5 hours running. That, I may not be up for.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
New New Trail Running Shoes, version 3.0
This morning I ran 10 miles in my brand spankin' new Asics Trabucos.
For me, this is a big shift. I do a lot of my miles on trails, and have a 50k coming up in (gulp) 2 weeks, so I'm counting on these for a lot. They weren't the pair I was planning on getting.
My first ever pair of trail running shoes was a pair of Mizuno Wave Ascends. They were great for around 350 miles, then suddenly weren't very great at all.
After that, I got a pair of Brooks Cascadias. Those were awesome. So awesome, in fact, that when those wore out, I got a second pair.
That second pair was even awesomer. They were, after all, just as good functionally as the first pair. Plus they were red. Awesome + red = Awesome-er.
Anyway, they were awesome enough to get a *third* pair of Cascadias. This involved moving from the Cascadia 4 to the 5.
The 5s were awesome, but not quite as awesome. The toebox seemed narrower, which is often an issue for me. Still, they gave me many good runs – including the trail marathon I ran last week. That said, it was clear during the fourth hour of that marathon that it was time for a new pair of trail shoes.
I was just planning on getting an unprecedented fourth pair of Cascadias, and I'm pretty sure I would have, but the store was out. So I figured, what the hey, and tried on what they had at the store. And the Asics Trabucos felt pretty darn good. So I took the leap.
The 10-mile review: they feel good. I do have some worries, related to ankle turns. They land a little different than the Cascadias, in certain situations. I feel like there are times when I landed with a rock or root or something that was a little high at the outside of the foot, and on the Trabucos, they sort of 'give' a little, where the Cascadias kept everything flat on the bottom. I'm really hoping that I get used to that.
I don't think that this is because the Trabucos are a stability shoe – because, despite what some websites say, I don't *think* that they are a stability shoe. Some shoe guides have them listed as such, but Helen saw no signs in the shoe itself; I saw no signs on the Asics site that they're made for stability. They seem, over all, not unlike the Cascadias.
Like the Cascadias, they have a decent heel, which I like, even though it's out of fashion among trail runners. The toe box is a bit wider, which I also like. Padding seems a little harder than the Cascadias, but not a lot.
It's hard moving away from something that works, but for now, I'm optimistic. My biggest worry? I should have gotten last year's model – the Trabuco 12. Didn't think I'd ever go with such an unlucky model number. But here it goes...
For me, this is a big shift. I do a lot of my miles on trails, and have a 50k coming up in (gulp) 2 weeks, so I'm counting on these for a lot. They weren't the pair I was planning on getting.
My first ever pair of trail running shoes was a pair of Mizuno Wave Ascends. They were great for around 350 miles, then suddenly weren't very great at all.
After that, I got a pair of Brooks Cascadias. Those were awesome. So awesome, in fact, that when those wore out, I got a second pair.
That second pair was even awesomer. They were, after all, just as good functionally as the first pair. Plus they were red. Awesome + red = Awesome-er.
Anyway, they were awesome enough to get a *third* pair of Cascadias. This involved moving from the Cascadia 4 to the 5.
The 5s were awesome, but not quite as awesome. The toebox seemed narrower, which is often an issue for me. Still, they gave me many good runs – including the trail marathon I ran last week. That said, it was clear during the fourth hour of that marathon that it was time for a new pair of trail shoes.
I was just planning on getting an unprecedented fourth pair of Cascadias, and I'm pretty sure I would have, but the store was out. So I figured, what the hey, and tried on what they had at the store. And the Asics Trabucos felt pretty darn good. So I took the leap.
The 10-mile review: they feel good. I do have some worries, related to ankle turns. They land a little different than the Cascadias, in certain situations. I feel like there are times when I landed with a rock or root or something that was a little high at the outside of the foot, and on the Trabucos, they sort of 'give' a little, where the Cascadias kept everything flat on the bottom. I'm really hoping that I get used to that.
I don't think that this is because the Trabucos are a stability shoe – because, despite what some websites say, I don't *think* that they are a stability shoe. Some shoe guides have them listed as such, but Helen saw no signs in the shoe itself; I saw no signs on the Asics site that they're made for stability. They seem, over all, not unlike the Cascadias.
Like the Cascadias, they have a decent heel, which I like, even though it's out of fashion among trail runners. The toe box is a bit wider, which I also like. Padding seems a little harder than the Cascadias, but not a lot.
It's hard moving away from something that works, but for now, I'm optimistic. My biggest worry? I should have gotten last year's model – the Trabuco 12. Didn't think I'd ever go with such an unlucky model number. But here it goes...
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.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
So THAT'S What It Looks Like
Tomorrow is the Half-Wit Half Marathon.
In the past I have criticized this race some, but really, this is one of my favorite races, one that I look forward to a lot, one that Helen and I plan around.
My main criticisms in the past came from going off course the first two times I ran it - for reasons that I thought were avoidable by better signs and better volunteer placement. Nor does the RD make the course available ahead of time. It's a trail half marathon, and while I do think it's pretty close to the distance, it's not like these things are USATF certified. I'm not sure that an official map exists.
Last year was the first year I was able to run the race and not go off course. I paid attention, tried to remember what I could. I also got lucky some. But as this race was approaching this year, Helen suggested I look on-line, that maybe someone had posted a GPS file of the course.
She was right! A few people had, and I was able to look over the course some. And my main reaction?
I had no idea, none, that it looked like that.
It's a really long, narrow course. Who knew?
Running in the Wissahickon can be disorienting, but I know its boundaries. And it's got the creek running right down the middle. Without knowing the roads around the half-wit course, I just had no sense at all.
Will this new-found knowledge help? I'll find out tomorrow.
In the past I have criticized this race some, but really, this is one of my favorite races, one that I look forward to a lot, one that Helen and I plan around.
My main criticisms in the past came from going off course the first two times I ran it - for reasons that I thought were avoidable by better signs and better volunteer placement. Nor does the RD make the course available ahead of time. It's a trail half marathon, and while I do think it's pretty close to the distance, it's not like these things are USATF certified. I'm not sure that an official map exists.
Last year was the first year I was able to run the race and not go off course. I paid attention, tried to remember what I could. I also got lucky some. But as this race was approaching this year, Helen suggested I look on-line, that maybe someone had posted a GPS file of the course.
She was right! A few people had, and I was able to look over the course some. And my main reaction?
I had no idea, none, that it looked like that.
It's a really long, narrow course. Who knew?
Running in the Wissahickon can be disorienting, but I know its boundaries. And it's got the creek running right down the middle. Without knowing the roads around the half-wit course, I just had no sense at all.
Will this new-found knowledge help? I'll find out tomorrow.
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.
Monday, December 21, 2009
There's no running like snow running
There are many, many things I love about the snow. I love how everybody wants to go out and play. I love seeing kids out having fun. I love being able to fall down and not get hurt. And how neighbors help each other out. Everyone's a kid, everyone's your friend. The list of positives go on – there are many, many things I love about the snow.
Turns out, I also love running in the snow.
This is still pretty new to me, but not surprising. During my many years of playing ultimate, I loved playing ultimate in the snow. (Trick: use a disc that isn't white).
For those that don't know, the snow hit Philly hard this weekend. It started coming down Friday night, and snowed pretty much all day on Saturday. When we shoveled out on Sunday morning, it seemed like at least 18 inches had fallen. The weather people said 23 inches. Ok.
Our first run, though, was early on in the storm. We headed out for our normal Saturday run. It was Bob R and Pete, along with Helen and I. Bob had planned the second try at his Valley Green Trail Marathon, kind of an expanded version of the 4 corners, that goes all the way over to the Belmont Plateau. For Bob, that's just the normal Saturday stroll, but it was too much for me. We managed to get him down to *just* doing the four corners. Helen and Pete and I kept him company for the souithern half. For us, it wound up around 12 miles. These weren't easy miles!
The main thing that struck me about the run was how I was seeing things that I'd never noticed. With the ground white and the leaves off the trees, buildings seemed even clearer. Lincoln Drive can be kind of annoying to see, but this time we just saw the few cars, going along at 15mph.
This run was the coldest run, because it was still snowing. It turned out to be a good day to not have a beard, as Pete found out.
On Sunday, friend and family commitments kept us from getting back out to run (although shoveling was plenty of exercise). So Monday morning bright and early we hit the roads, for a five mile or so jaunt through C-Hill, including a mile on Forbidden Drive. It was great being out that early. There were cars on the road (more than I'd expected, actually), but the side roads of C-Hill were pretty empty. When we got to Forbidden, we were the only ones there. Coming up out of the valley, the sun was just starting to come up.
I couldn't wait for a chance to get back out this afternoon, so this afternoon, with Helen still at work, I headed out on my own to see what the trails were like. They were fun! Difficult, but fun. On Saturday morning, there was little enough snow
that it still mattered what was under it; in some places, you could tell that you were running over frozen bike paths made in the mud, or difficult rocks that you couldn't see. Today, there was enough snow that it didn't matter what was underneath. That said, climbing today was hard. Doable, but hard.
Oh – doable in part because of my latest December gift from Helen – Yax Trax! One usage thus far, and they worked great. It's usable on the road, but once I was on the snow I didn't pay any attention to them - I just ran normally. Even on ice I felt ok, although I was still cautious.
I'm hoping to get Helen out on the trails tomorrow morning. It's not easy, but it is a lot of fun.
Turns out, I also love running in the snow.
This is still pretty new to me, but not surprising. During my many years of playing ultimate, I loved playing ultimate in the snow. (Trick: use a disc that isn't white).
For those that don't know, the snow hit Philly hard this weekend. It started coming down Friday night, and snowed pretty much all day on Saturday. When we shoveled out on Sunday morning, it seemed like at least 18 inches had fallen. The weather people said 23 inches. Ok.
Our first run, though, was early on in the storm. We headed out for our normal Saturday run. It was Bob R and Pete, along with Helen and I. Bob had planned the second try at his Valley Green Trail Marathon, kind of an expanded version of the 4 corners, that goes all the way over to the Belmont Plateau. For Bob, that's just the normal Saturday stroll, but it was too much for me. We managed to get him down to *just* doing the four corners. Helen and Pete and I kept him company for the souithern half. For us, it wound up around 12 miles. These weren't easy miles!
The main thing that struck me about the run was how I was seeing things that I'd never noticed. With the ground white and the leaves off the trees, buildings seemed even clearer. Lincoln Drive can be kind of annoying to see, but this time we just saw the few cars, going along at 15mph.
This run was the coldest run, because it was still snowing. It turned out to be a good day to not have a beard, as Pete found out.
On Sunday, friend and family commitments kept us from getting back out to run (although shoveling was plenty of exercise). So Monday morning bright and early we hit the roads, for a five mile or so jaunt through C-Hill, including a mile on Forbidden Drive. It was great being out that early. There were cars on the road (more than I'd expected, actually), but the side roads of C-Hill were pretty empty. When we got to Forbidden, we were the only ones there. Coming up out of the valley, the sun was just starting to come up.
I couldn't wait for a chance to get back out this afternoon, so this afternoon, with Helen still at work, I headed out on my own to see what the trails were like. They were fun! Difficult, but fun. On Saturday morning, there was little enough snow
that it still mattered what was under it; in some places, you could tell that you were running over frozen bike paths made in the mud, or difficult rocks that you couldn't see. Today, there was enough snow that it didn't matter what was underneath. That said, climbing today was hard. Doable, but hard. Oh – doable in part because of my latest December gift from Helen – Yax Trax! One usage thus far, and they worked great. It's usable on the road, but once I was on the snow I didn't pay any attention to them - I just ran normally. Even on ice I felt ok, although I was still cautious.
I'm hoping to get Helen out on the trails tomorrow morning. It's not easy, but it is a lot of fun.
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.
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, August 17, 2009
Wanderers Represent!
Wissahickon Wanderers showed up in force at Sunday's Half-Wit Half Marathon!
Eighteen in all, I believe. (There's at least one not in the photo).
Six even brought back some hardware:
I'm in the second photo because I managed to win the much-coveted 7th place M30-39 award.
(Oh, and Helen won. More on that later...)
Thanks to Polly for the pics.
Eighteen in all, I believe. (There's at least one not in the photo).
Six even brought back some hardware:
I'm in the second photo because I managed to win the much-coveted 7th place M30-39 award.
(Oh, and Helen won. More on that later...)
Thanks to Polly for the pics.
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.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Helen Wins! Helen Wins!
Congrats to Helen, who won yesterday's Wissahickon Trail Classic!
She did so in impressive fashion, dominating the field on a beautiful (if muddy) day down by Valley Green.
She did so in impressive fashion, dominating the field on a beautiful (if muddy) day down by Valley Green.
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.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Snow Running in the Wissahickon (in March!)
I took advantage of the non-teaching day today and went for a beautiful run in the Wissahickon. Yesterday I'd been kind of bummed about the March snowstorm (especially if Temple once again chose not to cancel classes!), but since I'm not teaching on Tuesdays this semester, today was a great day to get out and go for a run.
The Good: Really, the awesome. One of the really nice things about consistently running in the Wissahickon is seeing the seasons change, and today was a great example of that. The snow on the ground, the ice on the creek, the sun through the leafless trees.
I started off down at Northwestern, not really looking forward to the run. But soon enough I'd taken my headphones off and was just enjoying running in the snow and the sun. Most of the trails were already fairly well-traveled, but in a few places I really felt like I was out breaking new ground, since it's so windy that the footsteps got blown away. Very little ice, decent footing; the downhills felt softer, even going down pain hill. The uphills were harder, but I was ok with that.
The Bad: I wish I hadn't done this run alone; this would have been a great day to run with Helen. She's starting to reintegrate trail running, and the snow makes trail running easier, in a lot of ways. I usually discourage Helen from playing hooky, since she invariably winds up working off the clock, but she would have really enjoyed this.
Also, gotta say: kind of a sore ankle right now. I don't think it's from twisting it or anything, just from the different movements that the snow requires.
The Ugly: People who snowmobile in the Wissahickon are the scum of the earth. Lots of trails torn up on the Roxborough side.
The Good: Really, the awesome. One of the really nice things about consistently running in the Wissahickon is seeing the seasons change, and today was a great example of that. The snow on the ground, the ice on the creek, the sun through the leafless trees.
I started off down at Northwestern, not really looking forward to the run. But soon enough I'd taken my headphones off and was just enjoying running in the snow and the sun. Most of the trails were already fairly well-traveled, but in a few places I really felt like I was out breaking new ground, since it's so windy that the footsteps got blown away. Very little ice, decent footing; the downhills felt softer, even going down pain hill. The uphills were harder, but I was ok with that.
The Bad: I wish I hadn't done this run alone; this would have been a great day to run with Helen. She's starting to reintegrate trail running, and the snow makes trail running easier, in a lot of ways. I usually discourage Helen from playing hooky, since she invariably winds up working off the clock, but she would have really enjoyed this.
Also, gotta say: kind of a sore ankle right now. I don't think it's from twisting it or anything, just from the different movements that the snow requires.
The Ugly: People who snowmobile in the Wissahickon are the scum of the earth. Lots of trails torn up on the Roxborough side.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Ugly Mudder LBRR
This weekend, I managed to achieve two of my trail-running goals: I finished a trail race outside of the Wissahickon without going off-course; and I managed to keep my cool. I'm pretty sure that those two are related.
I've had a horrible record in this regard. I'd done four trail races – the Wissahickon Trail Classic, Charlie-Horse Half-Marathon, and Half-Wit Half-Marathon (twice). In all three half-marathons I'd gone off course. In the Wissahickon race I managed to stay on course, but I'd also been going over that course for several weeks going into the race. So staying on course in the Ugly Mudder was something of an accomplishment.
The race itself – well, it's ok. It overlaps a lot with Half-Wit, but without some of the latter's more memorable moments; it's a Ron Horn race, and at this point I'm a little tired of Ron Horn races. I don't blame him – basically, I'd like them more if I could do more non-Ron trail races. This one is just over 7 miles, with maybe as much as a mile on road (probably a bit less). There's less climbing than there is at Half-Wit, but it's still a fair bit. A lot of the downhill is gentle enough of a slope that you're still running, as opposed to just letting go. Some pretty rocky footing – and a lot of downed trees. There was a very slight snow, which made visibility harder, not because everything was white but just because it would get in my eyes. Since in races like this you need to pay attention to footing on just about every step, that makes things much more challenging!
I do like the end of this race, it's quite clever. You scurry up to the parking lot from the road; I'm horrible at this sort of estimate, but it's maybe a 30 yard climb that feels more like a cliff than a hill. You scurry up it, using all four limbs, grabbing branches, rocks, etc.
I've written before about the issue I have with trail races: I'm a natural negative splitter, but in trail racing positioning is important, so it makes more sense to go out hard. This is particularly the case in the Ugly Mudder: it starts with a half-mile on the road, then there's a half-mile on single-track. So I wanted to get position for that first bunch of trail. In retrospect, that wasn't all that important. I'd have had room to pass. Thing was, I didn't fell like I had a full tank of gas while running. I knew that after the first mile or so, I'd have some recovering to do, and I was ok with that. I figured that I'd be able to get back down into a nice recovery pace and then be able to pretty much reset. But there was a pattern that developed over the course of the race: I'd be going along at recovery pace, start feeling fine, and decide to open it up a bit. Each time I did that, I promptly wound up feeling completely spent within 10-20 seconds, and I'd have to settle back down to the recovery pace. By the end of the race, I was running very conservatively, walking up the steeper hills and even some of the only slightly steep parts. I also had to take it easy whenever there was a wall to climb over or a log to go over. This helped me to not completely bonk, but it also made things less fun than if I was just bustling with energy, hopping logs and passing folks on the uphill.
I'm overall fine with my results, even though I don't feel like I ran a great race. I didn't prep for it specifically, and the night before Helen and I had gone out to dinner, eaten lots of tasty food (much of it not carbs) and drank wine and I definitely was feeling that during the race. I still managed to finish in just under an hour, which I felt good about. There were around 700 people, and the results have me at 42nd pace, which doesn't get me an AG spot, but it's nothing to scoff at. That said, I'm pretty sure that I placed in the 60s, not the 40s! I'm expecting there to be some sort of correction this week. Either way, I'm ok with it.
I've had a horrible record in this regard. I'd done four trail races – the Wissahickon Trail Classic, Charlie-Horse Half-Marathon, and Half-Wit Half-Marathon (twice). In all three half-marathons I'd gone off course. In the Wissahickon race I managed to stay on course, but I'd also been going over that course for several weeks going into the race. So staying on course in the Ugly Mudder was something of an accomplishment.
The race itself – well, it's ok. It overlaps a lot with Half-Wit, but without some of the latter's more memorable moments; it's a Ron Horn race, and at this point I'm a little tired of Ron Horn races. I don't blame him – basically, I'd like them more if I could do more non-Ron trail races. This one is just over 7 miles, with maybe as much as a mile on road (probably a bit less). There's less climbing than there is at Half-Wit, but it's still a fair bit. A lot of the downhill is gentle enough of a slope that you're still running, as opposed to just letting go. Some pretty rocky footing – and a lot of downed trees. There was a very slight snow, which made visibility harder, not because everything was white but just because it would get in my eyes. Since in races like this you need to pay attention to footing on just about every step, that makes things much more challenging!
I do like the end of this race, it's quite clever. You scurry up to the parking lot from the road; I'm horrible at this sort of estimate, but it's maybe a 30 yard climb that feels more like a cliff than a hill. You scurry up it, using all four limbs, grabbing branches, rocks, etc.
I've written before about the issue I have with trail races: I'm a natural negative splitter, but in trail racing positioning is important, so it makes more sense to go out hard. This is particularly the case in the Ugly Mudder: it starts with a half-mile on the road, then there's a half-mile on single-track. So I wanted to get position for that first bunch of trail. In retrospect, that wasn't all that important. I'd have had room to pass. Thing was, I didn't fell like I had a full tank of gas while running. I knew that after the first mile or so, I'd have some recovering to do, and I was ok with that. I figured that I'd be able to get back down into a nice recovery pace and then be able to pretty much reset. But there was a pattern that developed over the course of the race: I'd be going along at recovery pace, start feeling fine, and decide to open it up a bit. Each time I did that, I promptly wound up feeling completely spent within 10-20 seconds, and I'd have to settle back down to the recovery pace. By the end of the race, I was running very conservatively, walking up the steeper hills and even some of the only slightly steep parts. I also had to take it easy whenever there was a wall to climb over or a log to go over. This helped me to not completely bonk, but it also made things less fun than if I was just bustling with energy, hopping logs and passing folks on the uphill.
I'm overall fine with my results, even though I don't feel like I ran a great race. I didn't prep for it specifically, and the night before Helen and I had gone out to dinner, eaten lots of tasty food (much of it not carbs) and drank wine and I definitely was feeling that during the race. I still managed to finish in just under an hour, which I felt good about. There were around 700 people, and the results have me at 42nd pace, which doesn't get me an AG spot, but it's nothing to scoff at. That said, I'm pretty sure that I placed in the 60s, not the 40s! I'm expecting there to be some sort of correction this week. Either way, I'm ok with it.
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