Year in review

Another year is behind me, my fifth as a runner. It was a big year off the pavement for me as I obtained my personal training and running coach certifications and turned my career attention to something I really enjoy for a change. And when I did put on some shoes to go run, things went pretty well.

I'll be around 1770 miles for the year, a couple hundred more than I logged last year. What did I get for those miles? Let's start with looking at how I did in reaching the goals I set a year ago:

• Run the New Year's Day marathon to complete the New Year's Double. Yes, I did run this race. Not well, mind you (4:15:51), but I ran it.
• Finish Rouge-Orleans alive. Didn't happen. Well, I lived, obviously, but I didn't finish the race. I stepped in a hole at about mile 15 that mildly sprained my ankle. It wasn't enough to end my race right there; rather, the swelling oh-so-slowly built up over the next many hours until I reached the point where I could hardly walk. Fifty miles after the misstep, I dropped.
• Break 19:00 at Dash Down Greenville. Not even close. The injury sidelined me for a couple of weeks and pretty much nixed any fast running I would have done in the 5 weeks between R-O and DDG. I managed only a 20:03.
• PR at Boston. It was in the upper 80s that day. I didn't even try.
• Run 6 marathons in 16 days in the fall to hit level 6 of Maniacs. This was pretty much in pencil to begin with, but when I couldn't make the logistics work, I scrapped it.
• Go sub-24 at Old Dominion 100 or Cajun Coyote 100. This one gets an asterisk. I had an outside chance at getting there at Old Dominion, but I hadn't practiced power-walking or, more importantly, fighting through emotional low points. It got dark, I got to the hard part of the course (mile 75), and I quit. I opted to run Heartland instead of Cajun Coyote and got my sub-24 finish.

So, I guess you could say I missed most of my goals, but there were extenuating circumstances for some of them. The year was more of a success than not, certainly. Some superlatives:

SCORECARD: 3 5Ks, 2 10Ks, 2 15Ks, 1 20K, 2 half marathons, 1 30K, 1 20-mile, 4 marathons, 2 50Ks, 1 8-hour, 1 100 -- 431.22 race miles (about a marathon longer than last year, plus 140.45 miles in 2 DNFs) 
PRs: 10K (40:30), 15K (1:02:51), half marathon (1:29:13), 8-hour (43.7 miles), 50 miles (unofficial, 9:19 split at Heartland), 100 miles (23:12:36). I was glad to finally bring the 10K time down closer to where it should be, but I think there is still a little fat to trim.
RUN OF THE YEAR: DRC Half. After 16 half marathons, I thought I'd done most all I could at that distance. The DRC course is not particularly easy and I was going into the race with an annoyance in my left foot, so I wanted to just chase the 1:30 pacers for as far as I could. By the halfway point, they were behind me, and I ended up shaving 38 seconds off my PR (on a day that several friends took minutes off of theirs).
DUD OF THE YEAR: 4 Pines 4 Ways 50K. I was probably a little worn out from running Boston and Big Sur in the preceding month and set my expectations too high, but I really should have done better than 5:15 on this rather tame grass course..
EVENT OF THE YEAR: Heartland 100. Kind of a layup choice in this category, but this really was the best production on my calendar. Great communication from the race directors and truly superior aid station support from the volunteers. Someone asked me last week if I would recommend this race and I was probably less enthusiastic than I should have been. For a first-timer, this is a perfect choice.
NON-EVENT OF THE YEAR: 8-Hour Run from the Ducks. You can't have kids counting laps. You just can't.
HOTEL OF THE YEAR: Park Plaza, Boston. If you're running Boston, you need to make your arrangements through Golden Adventures and stay at this place. The rooms themselves are nothing special but the location (near the finish line, the subway and many restaurants) is unbeatable.
BIG GOALS FOR NEXT YEAR: 3:10 at Houston. Sub-24 at Rocky Raccoon. 19:00 at Dash Down Greenville. 40:00 in a 10K. Break any ultra PR. 200 miles at the Ultracentric 72-hour.

Race review: Isle du Bois 54K

ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
I stayed more or less upright for 33.89 miles and 6 hours, 33 minutes, 33 seconds, finishing my longest run on almost entirely rocky single-track trail to date without shedding any blood.

DID YOU WIN?
I'm considering it a win that I didn't fall to the ground at any point (although I came close with increasing regularity as the day went on). In the official standings I was 23rd of 57 overall, 21st of 34 men. Not bad for someone with so few trail miles under his belt.

HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
I pieced together a few trail miles over the last couple of weeks but certainly not enough to determine what level of effort I could sustain over several hours. So my plan was pretty much just to go as hard as I could for as long as I could and see how much farther I had to go after that.

I ran easily down the opening paved section and joined the trail at about 1.25 miles. A few of us were still bunched up, but running at about the effort I would have been going anyway. The guy in front of me remarked that he was almost exclusively a road runner, which made 2 of us. There were many more rocks than I'd expected, and a few sections of sand weren't much fun either. I had a couple of meaningful stumbles but managed to catch myself on a tree and a trail marker. I felt great as I finished the first loop (just shy of 11 miles) in 8th place in 1:38:52.

Then things really got fun. For the last two loops, most of the paved section was swapped out for a longer section of the rocky stuff. I kept running -- or maintaining some kind of motion intended to emulate running -- but my pace slowed noticeably, about 2 minutes per mile compared to the first loop. A few folks passed me here and there, and a little before the end of the second loop I finally had to break down and start walking a bit. The second loop was done in 3:44:56 and I was down to 15th place. I crunched the numbers and figured if I tailed off the same amount from loop 2 to 3 as I did from 1 to 2, I'd be finished in 6:15, right at my pre-race goal.

That fuzzy math didn't hold up, though, as my woeful level of undertraining went on full display on the final loop. I ran when I could but those stretches rarely lasted more than a couple of minutes and were usually much shorter. My worn-out legs couldn't pick my feet off the ground enough to keep from stumbling nearly a dozen times. I might've started swearing. When I finally made it back to the last paved section, I wanted to break out in a sprint, but my stride was so short I almost couldn't even keep up with myself. Stretching after the race felt especially satisfying.

WHAT ELSE?
This race fills a key spot in the pecking order of trail races. It's not easy, and you won't be coddled... but it's also not so hard that you emerge from the woods as a mess of blood and broken bones. I appreciate the heavy emphasis on local sponsorship... especially the Mexican restaurant down the road that provided the post-race burritos. And it's cup-free, so a handheld is a necessity.

SPLITS?
8:19
10:19
9:33
9:21
9:25
9:45
9:58
9:48
9:33
9:56
9:32
10:01
11:13
10:39
10:49
11:49
11:50
11:57
12:04
11:58
14:15
12:27
13:54
16:22
16:28
15:48
16:10
15:55
16:42
16:57
15:20
13:43
10:12 pace last .18

OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
You get a comfy long-sleeve bamboo shirt for entering. No medal for finishing; instead it's a small medallion and a bottle of local honey:

WHAT'S NEXT?
Houston Marathon, Jan. 13.

Race preview: Isle du Bois 54K

WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Pilot Point, Texas

WHEN?
Saturday, Dec. 8

WHY?
Isle du Bois 54K

NO REALLY, WHY?
I don't know... maybe to count as Rocky Raccoon training? It's certainly an oddball race on my schedule; I couldn't really tell you why I'm doing this and not White Rock.

WHO ELSE IS GOING?
As of now there are 90 entrants in the 54K and 152 in the 18K. Some of these are folks I am familiar with but haven't met in person yet. Come say hi; I'll be number 524 and I'm thinking I'll go with the Marathon Maniacs singlet this time.

WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
We'll be starting in the low 50s and trying to finish before it gets too warm; it could easily by 75 by the time I'm done. And humid? You bet.

HOW DO WE WIN?
A while back I threw out a prediction of 5:40 that I almost immediately regretted (and still do). I still struggle to get it through my head how much slower I am on trails than roads (everyone is, of course, but me, especially so). I'll put 6:15 out there as a target -- about an 11-minute pace.

Race review: North Texas Turkey Trot 10K

ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
I finally put together a 10K in line with what I'm capable of, overcoming a stiffer-than-expected breeze and a horrendous on-course traffic jam to finish in 40:32, a good 1:48 below my previous PR.

DID YOU WIN?
I was pretty sure I was 5th overall, but the results have me at 7th (out of 573). The results are wrong in a huge way that I will get into later, but either way I won my age group for the 2nd race in a row, out of 59 this time. I was the 6th male of 286, supposedly.

HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
The 1-mile run that was supposed to start at 8 was 10 minutes late, setting off a chain reaction of confusion and agitation. We finally got sent off 15 minutes past our scheduled time, and I paired the ensuing bitterness with a tailwind for most of the first 2 miles that ensured the struggles of a couple weeks earlier would not be repeated. I was in 8th place at the first turnaround at the 2-mile mark.

Turning back south, I was confronted with the familiar wind that was blowing a good bit stronger than the 10 mph I expected. The 5th through 7th runners were smartly tucked in, single file, behind the guy in 4th, but I was a couple seconds behind them and couldn't risk speeding up into the wind to try to catch them. Besides, they were way out on the outside curve of the road so I was doing just fine to stay to the inside and save a few paces. This came in handy when I picked a couple of them off half a mile later. I crossed the 5K mat in 20:01.

Everything was humming along just fine until mile 3.6 or so, when I hit the wall. No, I didn't bonk; I hit a wall of humanity as the 10K course rejoined the 5K course right as the thickest crowd of mid-packers were coming through (the 5K started 15 minutes after the 10K, or was scheduled to, anyway). The two 10K runners in front of me jumped onto the sidewalk, but I plowed right on through the crowd, dodging folks like Adrian Peterson. We caught a brief break when the courses split again, but then the last 2 full miles were again clogged with hundreds of other runners.

I bumped a few folks and called out for the 5K runners to stay to the right, but it was pointless. Things thinned out as I caught up to the speedier 5Kers, but at the expense of nearly throwing up twice from a combination of the added effort to get around people and being generally pissed off at the whole mess.

WHAT ELSE?
I'll say the nice things first. My wife came along (she's associated with one of the race sponsors) and brought our little girl, who just loves to watch her daddy run. Seeing them on the course a few times was a big lift and helped me relax a bit.

Now, as for the need to relax.... This was the 2nd running of this event and the 1st time a 10K was offered in addition to the 5K. It is not difficult at all to sit down and do some quick math to determine if you're going to have runners colliding on overlapping courses. Clearly, no one did that in this case. If anyone wants to call me to fix this, I can have it done in minutes. This race got a positive mention on one of the local newscasts in part because of its huge growth (doubled in size from last year), which is only going to make things worse next time.

And about the results.... I was certain I was 5th. The results show 2 runners just a couple seconds in front of me. No one passed me until the very last short stretch before the finish line, and I believe those were 5K runners in their final sprints. I checked the names on Athlinks and while it's feasible their times were legitimate (though at least one would be a big PR), I still have little faith in the accuracy of the results. Part of that comes from another runner a couple spots behind me who also told me he was listed too low. And part of it comes from the handling of the 5K "winner".

A runner (who shall remain nameless to protect the possibly innocent) appeared to sign up for the 5K, start with the 10K and run the 5K course. She finished in 31:02, a believable time for 5K but not 10K. The first printing of the results had her listed as the 10K winner. I pointed out this impossibility to the timer, who said he had "forced" her into the 10K results, I guess because her chip went live with the 10K start but she wasn't entered in the event (maybe he was thinking she switched events that morning). I told him that either way, she didn't run the 10K course so she didn't win the 10K. This was corroborated by the actual 10K winner.

So the timer took the runner out of the 10K results and put her in the 5K results. But in doing so, he changed the start time of her chip as if she had started with the 5K group 15 minutes later, giving her a 5K time of 16:02 (again, no) and the win. She did not step forward at the results ceremony (because she reasonably assumed she hadn't won anything) so sometime next week, an envelope with a medal and a Sports Authority gift card is going to show up in a Carrollton mailbox to a giant question mark over someone's head.

If all that was too long to read, just take the entirety of the results of this race with a grain of salt.

SPLITS?
6:19
6:23
6:34
6:36
6:38
6:34
6:34 pace last .22

OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
You get a shirt. The winners, like I said, get a cash card to Sports Authority and a medal:

WHAT'S NEXT?
Isle du Bois 54K, Dec. 8.

Race preview: North Texas Turkey Trot 10K

WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Frisco, Texas

WHEN?
Thursday, Nov. 22

WHY?
North Texas Turkey Trot 10K

NO REALLY, WHY?
I'll be taking yet another crack at a 10K PR, and if this doesn't work I will try again, and again, and again, like some degenerate going all-in on every hand.

WHO ELSE IS GOING?
Among the 10K, 5K and mile, they're expecting almost 4,000 folks to show up. I'm guessing the 10K field will be a very small fraction of the total, given the general goof-off nature of turkey trots.

WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
We'll be in the low 60s with a breeze out of the south posing a challenge on a course that's largely due north-south.

HOW DO WE WIN?
Same expectations as last time: Go at least a minute under my current PR of 42:20. Put it in these terms: If I simply run the same pace as I ran the DRC Half a couple weeks ago, that's a 42:13 (before you even consider this race is less than half that distance and completely flat).

Race review: Big D 30K

ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
After a dud the weekend before, I was back to my old tricks, burning a couple laps around White Rock Lake in 2:10:49.

DID YOU WIN?
Almost! I was 2nd of 78 overall and picked up my first career prize money, a $50 check that basically refunded my entry fee. I was 2nd of 35 men and 1st of 5 in my age group.

HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
I'd run two laps around the lake before, but never in a race, so figuring out my pacing was a little tricky. For a half marathon, I keep the first mile relaxed, turn up the effort starting with mile 2 and hold that level of exertion until mile 10 or 11, when I head full-throttle to the finish. My splits never reflect this because of adrenaline and fatigue, but that's what I aim for.

I decided for this race I would try to stretch that opening-mile phase out to 5 miles and then resume a half marathon effort from there. But I quickly questioned my plan when, not long after the first half-mile, I could no longer hear the footfalls of the third-place runner behind me. My watch told me I was going the right speed, but I figured I'd be 6th or 7th like I've tended to be in these races so maybe everyone else knew something I didn't.

I won't lie to you; I remembered the money long before going up the ramp to go across the Mockingbird bridge (the race started at Winfrey Point with a counter-clockwise lap to a turn-around at the start/finish line). I looked back down the hill to see not only where the next runner was, but the one behind him (since 3rd place got $25 too). Couldn't see him. Meanwhile, the leader was starting to escape from view, but this was not a concern.

Turning left and heading south along the west side of the lake, I was now presented with a headwind. It was nothing like the weekend before, but it got me thinking about the rest of the race and where the wind would be. I'd be running the last couple miles into the wind. Don't worry about it, I told myself, there are many miles between here and there. I had a brief moment of panic at the short out-and-back section at mile 6.6 when a couple runners came up the sidewalk behind me -- kind of an odd place to turn -- but they kept going straight.

Approaching Winfrey Point and the end of the first lap, the lead runner passed me coming the other way at 1:03:53. I turned around at 1:04:41, so I was a little over a minute and a half back. Going the other direction, it was hard to tell which runner was next, since some folks looked to be running hard but didn't have visible bibs. I guessed I was at least 3 1/2 minutes ahead of 3rd.

After the turn, I found myself running just behind another guy out for a training run who just happened to be running just a hair faster than me. I tried to slip in behind him to block the wind, and soon we were pushing each other: he would surge ahead a few meters, I would gradually catch up to him, and he would surge again. A little past the spillway he turned to me and remarked that the last mile was 7 seconds faster than the one before. I kept chasing him until losing him at another out-and-back at mile 12.

Those couple miles took some strength out of me, but my spirit would soon be renewed by the sight of the lead runner way out in front of me. By the time we got back to Mockingbird I could clearly tell I was closing on him, and by the mile 16 marker I was less than 25 seconds behind. But  he pulled it together and I ran out of gas, leaving me 43 seconds short.

WHAT ELSE?
Since my DNF at Old Dominion, 5 of my best 7 races ever have come in the past 4 months or so (this one was #2). Funny, I don't feel 37....

I think I mentioned this in my review of the Labor Day race, but I'll bring it up again. White Rock Racing must've gotten an incredible bulk deal on trophies. More than twice as many folks took home age-group awards than not. They can do whatever they want; it just seems silly. Cut back on the awards and give the savings to For the Love of the Lake.

SPLITS?
6:55
6:51
6:57
6:45
6:51
6:59
6:58
7:05
6:57
6:51
6:42
6:47
7:07
6:59
7:05
6:58
7:12
7:23
7:21 pace last .75

OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
You get a tech shirt for signing up, a medal for finishing, and in all likelihood, a trophy too:

WHAT'S NEXT?
North Texas Turkey Trot 10K, Thursday.

Race preview: Big D 30K

WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Dallas

WHEN?
Sunday, Nov. 18

WHY?
Big D 30K

NO REALLY, WHY?
This will be a nice supported long run as I get within 8 weeks of the Houston Marathon.

WHO ELSE IS GOING?
Coming 3 weeks before the Dallas Marathon, you would think this race might get some more interest as the last tune-up for some folks, but no, there won't be many more than 50 or 60 runners on hand.

WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
The forecast looks good; it will really be great if the sun stays behind clouds. We should start in the low 50s and finish around 60 degrees, maybe less if it stays cloudy.

HOW DO WE WIN?
Much like last weekend, the field is small enough that an age group award is really not in question. I'd like to be under 2:14, with a stretch goal under 2:11.

Race review: Arbor Day Run 10K

ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
I've had several great races this fall, but this was not one of them. Fully intent on setting a new PR for 10K, a distance I've never run to the best of my ability, I was not even close, finishing in 43:25.

DID YOU WIN?
The results say I was 6th of 102 overall, 5th of 47 men and 2nd of 9 in my age group. Good thing for a small field.

HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
After my half marathon the weekend before, I came home and almost immediately fell victim to the cold my daughter passed me (further proving what they say about hard workouts punishing your immune system). I had an especially terrible run Thursday, but by race morning I was feeling well enough to turn in a strong effort in spite of warm, windy conditions.

The first mile of the race went as planned. The wind was in my face but not so powerful that I couldn't fight through it. There were 8 runners in front of me, but I figured some were doing the 5K so I was right about where I thought I'd be.

I wasn't paying too much attention to the time on my watch -- I was distracted by the distance; more on this below -- so I didn't notice that my pace was tailing off even as I kept my effort up. I was happy to get to the halfway point and get the wind at my back, but when I finally figured out how I was doing around mile 5, I was surprised to learn that the tailwind really wasn't doing much for me at all, or perhaps was just keeping me from having a truly awful race.

As I neared the final turn with about a third of a mile to go, it was clear that not only would I not hit my goal time, I wouldn't get a PR either. Only one guy had passed me since that opening stretch, though, so it was a lot easier to brush this one off pretty much immediately.

WHAT ELSE?
My ears perked up a little when I passed a fork in the trail just after the 1-mile mark and the course monitor called out "5K this way, 10K this way." Both events had coned turnarounds, I thought, so a turn in that spot would be wrong. Sure enough, after the race the announcement came down that many 5K entrants had only run 2.3 miles (about half of them, based on the results). The folks in charge decided to apply the honor system and allow runners to turn themselves in if they didn't run the full distance, thus making themselves eligible for a whole new impromptu set of age group awards. In short, don't trust the results for either distance when you go look at them later.

The race feebly tried to put itself forth as "green" in the spirit of Arbor Day by telling folks to bring their own water bottles... if they wanted. If not, they could still take cups at aid stations and litter them as usual. I gamely went along and carried my handheld, just like roughly 2 percent of everyone else. Maybe I should blame lugging around an extra pound of water for my slow time.

SPLITS?
6:32
6:46
7:01
7:05
7:02
7:05
7:15 pace last .27

OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
Each entrant gets a pair of gloves; if you want a shirt, you can pay extra for one when you sign up. The thought process behind that was that most race shirts end up at Goodwill or the landfill, so why make a bunch of shirts that won't be worn? The logic behind this is deeply flawed. For one, it's the ugly shirts that get tossed. Design a clean, simple, attractive shirt and it will be worn. I bought the shirt -- I registered long ago and apparently wasn't thinking clearly about paying extra for a shirt -- and think it's a fine shirt: a brown long-sleeve tech shirt with the tree logo and usual array of sponsors. I don't, however, care much for the gloves, which will in fact probably start on my hands at an upcoming race and end up on the side of the road.

The age group awards, however, took illogic to a new level: plastic reusable travel mugs. Remember, this race was supposed to be green. And yes, the mugs were allegedly made of some kind of biodegradable plastic, but plastic is plastic, and they're still stuff that people don't need (does anyone out there not have a cabinet full of reusable beverage containers already?). The Tyler Rose Marathon gives all finishers a rosebush; how the Arbor Day Run does not give award winners some small living piece of greenery -- you know, a TREE -- makes my head hurt.

WHAT'S NEXT?
Big D 30K, Sunday.

Race preview: Arbor Day Run 10K

WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Plano, Texas

WHEN?
Saturday, Nov. 10

WHY?
Arbor Day Run 10K

NO REALLY, WHY?
My 10K PR is weak and it's bugged me that I haven't really gone out of my way to fix it. Here is my first of two chances this month.

WHO ELSE IS GOING?
It would surprise me to see 200 starters. They've been in the 170s 2 of the last 3 years.

WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
It's looking rough: mid-60s, humid and very windy. The strong breeze from the south should make for a lot of negative splits.

HOW DO WE WIN?
The magnitude of my happiness will correlate to how far I go under my PR of 42:20. Given the conditions I'll probably be happy with 41:30 and save a sub-41 for my next 10K on Thanksgiving.

Race review: DRC Half

ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
Three weeks after a 100-miler, on an arch strain that's not fully healed, I set a new PR of 1:29:13. It was easily the highest age-graded score I have recorded; in other words, my best race ever.

DID YOU WIN?
Obviously I won on a personal level, and in a smaller race I might've actually gone home with something. But an age group prize at this race is still a ways out of reach. I was 5th of 147 in my age group (more than 2 1/2 minutes behind 3rd), 54th of 917 men and 61st of 1968 overall.

HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
When I found out just a couple days before the race that there would be a 1:30 pace team, that became my plan. I went off with a pretty big group of folks, which made it harder to run the tangents for the first couple of miles (why the majority of people continue not to do this is one of the great mysteries of running).

The group thinned out a little as several folks went on ahead. I felt like I could move in front as well, but since we were already on a pace that would put me close to a PR, I stayed with the pacers rather than risk a late fade. Here and there I wandered off, such as at the top of the hill on Sperry (mile 5.4), but each time I eased up to fall back to the pacers. I crossed the 10K mat in 42:23, 7 seconds under my very soft 10K race PR.

The pacers had been hammering the downhills somewhat, so coming down White Rock Road and turning onto Winsted I did the same, once again getting a little out in front of the stick. I stayed in front this time, figuring they would catch me going up the hill by the spillway, possibly my least favorite hill in all of Dallas. But they never overtook me, and turning north to head up the east side of the lake I decided to push on without them.

Seeing Lesley and Adam watch me pass a couple guys at Winfrey Point (9.6) was a big boost. I looked back a little later to see the pacers only about 10 seconds behind me, but I ran the numbers in my head and figured they were going under their target so I would be OK... and in the end, I was.

WHAT ELSE?
Not sure what it was about the day but I heard of many other folks also setting new personal bests, many by several minutes. Most of them were like me in that they've been doing these for a while, too (this was my 17th half marathon, I believe). It's inspiring to see your friends bringing their times down, but it's also a good reminder that when you're sitting around feeling like not doing anything, someone else is out there out-working you.

The winners of the race got cash prizes, but I will be kicking myself for weeks for blowing a chance to make some money on myself. This was my first chance to try HealthWagers, a new site that gives you a time to beat based on past performances and pays out (pari-mutuel style) if you beat it. I was given a time to beat of 1:32:15, which seemed like a piece of cake, but I held off because I wasn't fully confident in my foot. Looks like I missed the boat; they've set a challenge time for my next race that is way out of reach.

SPLITS?
6:44
6:50
6:43
6:53
6:39
6:45
6:49
6:53
6:48
6:46
6:40
6:46
6:48
6:36 pace last .18

OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
You get a long-sleeve tech shirt for entering. Lakewood Brewing Company provided the post-run local beer, and Freebirds served up some tasty breakfast burritos. For the medal, the glitter option was checked, circled and highlighted:

WHAT'S NEXT?
Arbor Day Run 10K, Saturday.

Race preview: DRC Half

WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Dallas

WHEN?
Sunday, Nov. 4

WHY?
DRC Half

NO REALLY, WHY?
I've run the 5K at this event, and volunteered, and now it's time to take part in the headliner.

WHO ELSE IS GOING?
There will be more than 2000 of us, and as with all races that start at Norbuck Park, I sure hope those folks join me in taking DART to White Rock and making the short walk over.

WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
We should have pretty great weather, with cloudy skies and temperatures in the upper 50s to low 60s. There's a small chance of rain but it's looking like that will be done before the race.

HOW DO WE WIN?
This is kind of a tough one to call. Coming 3 weeks after my 100, I should be able to run fast. I certainly felt very strong just a few days after I got home. But then I spent an afternoon standing around in unsupportive shoes, which screwed up my recovery and gave me an ache in my left foot that's still hanging around. I took 5 days off from running and am only running 5 miles every other day this week, so it's possible I've lost enough fitness to take a PR (1:29:51) out of play. I'll try to get as close as I can.

Race review: Heartland 100

ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
I finished my first 100-mile race on my third attempt, getting back to where I started after 23 hours, 12 minutes, 36 seconds.

DID YOU WIN?
DID YOU READ WHAT I JUST WROTE? Yes, I won by finishing. Coming in under 24 hours was a sweet bonus. Officially I was 22nd out of 89 starters. There were 61 finishers, 27 of whom went under 24:00.

HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
After my DNF at Old Dominion in June, I returned home to stew. I was mopey in the immediate aftermath, but after a few days a feeling of revenge set in, and by the following weekend I had registered for Heartland. I decided that after posting 2 DNFs in 100s, I would keep this one to myself (and somewhat incredibly, other than my wife only 1 other person found out I was running). If I finished, it'd be a great surprise for everyone. If I didn't, well, then it never happened.

I pulled into the little town of Cassoday, Kansas just a few minutes before the start of Friday afternoon's pre-race briefing. There was a threat of severe weather looming ahead the next day, although race officials were optimistic that we would miss the worst of it. I treated myself to a hearty spread of brisket, potato salad and various other sides before driving back to the hotel in El Dorado, 20 miles away (Cassoday has no hotels).

I slept better than I thought I would and headed out the door at 4:30. The race started at 6:00 under clouds but no rain. Only needing light for an hour or so, I had packed my headlamp for Matfield Green (mile 42.5/57.5) and would start with just a flashlight, dropping it at the first aid station (Battle Creek, 8.2). I consulted the 24-hour pace chart in my pocket; I was way ahead, but this was by design because I used even splits, allowing me to "bank" time for the inevitable late-night death march.

The next section provided a good 4 miles of somewhat sharply rolling hills, wet enough from the previous day's rain to make for really sticky mud that glommed onto my shoes at the least opportune times (such as on one particular downhill when it seemed as though the sudden addition of weight to my feet would send me tumbling). Shortly after that, the first round of storms moved in, earlier than I was expecting. My pace quickened. Given that I'd be running through the prairie, I had read about lightning strikes and determined that of the two outcomes of being hit, survival was probably the lesser preferred. I wasn't feeling lucky.

At the Lapland aid station (16.8), I asked for a weather update. They told me it would be bad for another half hour. Sure enough, about a mile out of the aid station, just as I was nearing the top of a significant hill, the count between the flash and the boom narrowed to 2 beats. Funtime was over. I made it to a tree alongside the road and crouched down (I think there was a power line there also, so I shouldn't have been the most attractive object to lightning). I let about 5 minutes go by without any more close calls, then got up and continued.

I got to the Teterville Road aid station (25) in 4:12, putting me even further ahead of schedule. This was a good thing, because just after that aid station was another pretty long stretch of squishy mud. With the course being just straightforward out-and-back, I'd be seeing everything again, probably in worse shape if it kept raining. Slopping through mud in the dark, I'd better have some extra time to work with.

At Texaco Hill (31.2) I changed socks for the first time. My feet were in decent shape -- they clearly looked as though they'd been wet for hours, but there was no maceration and I didn't have any real hot spots. I coated all the areas I usually have trouble with lube and slipped on a nice dry pair of socks... which stayed dry for what seemed like mere moments. The rain would continue to come in waves for a few more hours. In between, the wind would whip along strong enough to pretty much dry me back off.

My first stop at Matfield Green was the point where I needed to decide whether I'd be back before it got dark or I'd need to take my headlamp with me. My pace chart was pretty much destroyed by now (note to self: next time, laminate it!) but I knew without looking that I had plenty of time, since I was still adding to my cushion. I hit the turnaround in a rather astounding 9:19, more than 45 minutes faster than I'd run 50 miles before.

Going sub-24 now seemed like a slam dunk, but I kept my focus solely on getting from aid station to aid station. There was still plenty of time for something catastrophic to happen, and I was being told the worst weather of the day was still to come.

Feeling a hot spot develop on my right foot, I changed socks again at Matfield Green. Leaving the aid station, my stomach sank as the middle of my right arch now felt completely raw. I hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary when I was slathering on more Aquaphor, but this felt really bad. I pushed ahead -- and to my surprise, the feeling went away. Of all the bizarre explanations, it seemed that the Feetures socks I had been wearing had left their signature support pattern etched into the bottom of my foot. When I switched back into Ijinjis, the foot felt raw until the skin smoothed itself back out. (Definitely a useful piece of data for future planning.)

On the way back through the Ridgeline aid station (63.5), I got the good news: The awful storm that had been pointed right at us had veered away and we should be in the clear the rest of the way. By the time I got back to Texaco Hill (68.8), my headlamp was on and I was walking much more than I was running, but I was still in pretty good spirits. I was even happier to realize that I'd kind of forgotten where I was, and the long muddy stretch I was expecting was already behind me (and not all that muddy anymore) when I turned for the next aid station.

At Teterville Road (75) I started to encounter the 50 milers who were turning around and heading back. They were pretty easily sailing past me, since they were toward the lead of their race, but it was still good to have a little more human contact as we approached midnight. At Lapland (83.2) I finally changed out of my sleeveless top into a compression base layer and long-sleeve tech shirt. The wind, which I had expected to die down after sundown, was just relentless and quite possibly even stronger than it had been during the day. But I had a jacket waiting for me at Battle Creek (91.8) to get me through the final stretch, so I was well prepared.

Someone at Lapland asked if this was my first 100 as I sat down to inhale some hot ramen. I said it would be the first I would finish, and they gave their enthusiastic agreement. I had 6 hours to cover 16.8 miles and get in under 24 hours. Really, I was thinking I had 4 hours to get in under 22. But my energy was really fading and my muscles were not holding up. I just trudged ahead toward the finish.

At Battle Creek I sat down for more ramen and to put on my jacket. But wait... no jacket. No, I had in fact packed it for Lapland and completely ignored it while I was changing shirts. I was chattering pretty hard and the hot broth wasn't doing it for me. One of the volunteers went to her car and brought me a spare windshirt and gloves, and I was on my way for the final march to the finish. I waved 22 hours good-bye, and 23 as well, but I didn't care about any of that as I made the last right turn back onto the blacktop and strolled proudly across the finish line.

WHAT ELSE?
Just some random thoughts that will hopefully be useful to someone who wants to run this:

• Tony Clark and Kyle Amos, the race directors, had a pre-race motivational message that really struck a chord with me. They're positive guys, but there's a strong anti-whiner undercurrent that resonates with me. I don't know about Kyle, but Tony is a former Marine who has seen enough to be less than interested in your sob story about dropping out of a footrace because you couldn't take any more. I don't take a crew, I don't have pacers, I don't run for Jesus or Santa or some friend or family member who died too soon; I am out there solely to see what I'm capable of. And I know that as with running any other distance, you get out of this exactly what you put into it, and that's the attitude Tony and Kyle convey. If you do the work, they are your biggest fans. Respecting the distance and developing the mental strength to get through the low points were a couple of difficult assignments Old Dominion dealt me. I think I did my homework.
• There's a certain genius to the course design, specifically with regard to crew access (for those who happen to take one). Crews are not allowed at Battle Creek, so Lapland is the last place to get support. Barring something freakish, if you leave Lapland, you're going to finish the race, since the only other option is to give up at Battle Creek and catch a ride back to the start with an aid station worker -- who won't be leaving until the last runner passes and the aid station is broken down. If you're going to wait several hours for that to happen, you might as well keep going.
• Actually, something freakish did happen in that at least one runner missed the first turn after Lapland and did not finish. I'm not sure how this happened since all turns were quite well marked (and you saw them earlier in the day). The only point of real concern for me was on the way back, after the Texaco Hill aid station. There's a kind of shortcut from one road to another across a field that isn't much more than a mowed swath with a couple of tire tracks. I found the turn, marked by glowsticks, but couldn't find the path and ended up wandering in the tall grass for a couple minutes. Other than that, you really can't get lost.
• You can see the course up to the first aid station on Google Street View. The pictures were actually taken during this race in 2007 (check out the street view for 37.999676,-96.514362; the aid station tents are a little more durable this time around).
• I wore trail shoes with rock plates and gaiters. Depending on your cushioning, you might get away with road shoes -- the course is 99.5% gravel/dirt road -- but there are some sections in the middle that are pretty nasty rocky (these are the Flint Hills after all). Gaiters, though, are not really optional. Without them you will absolutely get all manner of annoying pebbles in your shoes.
• I have got to figure out a better nutrition plan. As with my other long races, I started strong, keeping a steady stream of calories flowing in (250-300 per hour). I tried mixing up Honey Stinger waffles, Gus and various chomps so I was getting different flavors and textures and not getting sick of any one thing. But as with my other long races, I reached a point where I just didn't want to eat anything else. I have to think my epic slowdown can't be blamed entirely on fatigue; I have to keep pumping calories in even when I don't want them. Maybe I need to mix in some candy bars; if I can't manage a Snickers bar no matter what kind of state I'm in, there's something wrong with me. Or maybe I need to turn to liquids late in races. I don't feel like taking "real" food at aid stations is the answer because none of it sounds appetizing to me in the context of running; I don't want to head back out with a full stomach of solid food.

SPLITS?
1st 25 mi: 4:12:11 (10:05 pace)
2nd 25 mi: 5:06:49 (12:16 pace; 9:19:00/11:11 total)
3rd 25 mi: 6:16:48 (15:09 pace; 15:35:48/12:29 total)
4th 25 mi: 7:36:48 (18:16 pace; 23:12:36/13:56 total)

OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
It's a 100; you get a shirt. If you finish in 30 hours, you get a hoodie that says FINISHER on the back. If you finish in 24 hours, your hoodie has a few extra words:

And of course, there's this:

WHAT'S NEXT?
DRC Half, Nov. 4.

Race review: Santa Fe 5K

ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
I started strong, ran strong in the middle and finished strong for a time of 19:29, only 6 seconds slower than my PR from March 2011.

DID YOU WIN?
I did win; I was 1st of 35 in my age group. I was 12th of 257 men and 13th of 485 overall (I thought there would be many more runners but apparently there were either a lot of no-shows or a lot of folks running untimed).

HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
Look, I ran a 100-miler between running this 5K and writing this race report, so please forgive me for blanking out on some of the details. I remember there were a few raindrops here and there that held off for the race but nonetheless made for a steamy evening. I ran out comfortably, knowing the only meaningful hill was coming in the first mile. Making the climb on Santa Fe Avenue I focused on using my glutes to get up the hill, which has been a point of emphasis in my recent training.

Getting up the hill I passed people, coming down the other side I passed people, and I just kept it going like that the rest of the way. As the leaders made the turnaround and headed gently back downhill to the start, I counted 15 folks in front of me. I picked off a couple and got tantalizing close to some others as the last half mile approached. But even with a group of 4 just a few seconds in front of me, I couldn't find another gear to kick past them -- I had pretty well spent everything I had to get there, leaving the tank just empty as I finished.

WHAT ELSE?
The post-race setup was pretty nice -- think Katy 5K on a much smaller scale. There were half a dozen food trucks with food for sale (boo) but a few vendors such as Urban Taco handing out complimentary bites. With only a couple of spotlights on hand, the festivities had to wrap up rather quickly post-race; this is something the organizers should fix for next year to make this more of an event.

SPLITS?
N/A

OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
Beyond the standard cotton T-shirt, a green wristband -- possibly the least useful accessory ever -- was also thrown in. The age-group awards were unique, though: these lanterns:

WHAT'S NEXT?
Heartland 100 (already done, race report forthcoming).