WHERE ARE WE GOING?
The Colony, Texas
WHEN?
Thursday, July 4
WHY?
Liberty 10K
NO REALLY, WHY?
A bunch of friends are running, I needed a race to add to the calendar, and it was super cheap ($17.50 with a Groupon). All excellent reasons.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
Close to 1,000 folks will run the 5K and 10K, with a couple hundred more in the former than the latter.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
It should be a pretty nice morning, in the low 70s with reasonable humidity. Around here that's dang near as good as it's gonna get for July 4.
HOW DO WE WIN?
This race was somewhat of a late addition to the schedule and as such, I've done very little to prepare for it, given that my more important races are still to come. I'll be hanging out with the above-mentioned friends after the race, so I've decided to leave the car at home and run to the race, the post-race gathering, and back home. That puts the 10K in the middle of a 21-ish-mile training run. Combined with my utter lack of speedwork, I have a hard time seeing myself cracking 43 minutes. That may still be good enough for an age-group award, but that would be purely accidental.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Race review: Texas Threesome
ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
I ran a 3:26:24 marathon on Saturday and a 4:01:18 on Sunday, but did not start Monday's race because of a couple large blisters on my right foot that would have made 1 mile quite painful, let alone 26.2.
DID YOU WIN?
This is a tough one to categorize. Technically, I did win Saturday's race, beating 28 other entrants. And I was 2nd of 26 on Sunday (1st male). But the fields were largely noncompetitive (on Saturday, I lapped some folks 4 times on an 8 1/2-loop course), and beyond that, my entire goal for the weekend was to finish my first triple. So though it may seem like I'm beating myself up in spite of a couple of good runs -- I took almost 30 minutes off my previous back-to-back marathon best -- I'd have to say no, I didn't win.
HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
It took about 5 seconds to get to the front of the pack on Saturday. We ran the partial loop first, out and back, and at the turnaround about eight-tenths of a mile out I already had a pretty good cushion. So I forgot about everyone else for a while and just ran.
A little over half the loop was on smooth asphalt or sidewalk, but the south side of the lake gave us heavily cracked, uneven asphalt that tested my ankles as much as running on singletrack would. By the fifth time around, I was concerned that my ankles wouldn't make it through one day, let alone three. On the next loop, a pebble got under my foot somehow. If I were locked into a tight race or deeply concerned about my time, I might've just pushed through, but since I figured I had plenty of time, I stopped at the end of the loop to fix my shoe. I asked the volunteer how far ahead I was, expecting to hear something like 20 minutes. "Six minutes," she said.
A 6-minute lead with 6 miles to go and a warm, humid morning were both uncomfortable, so I got back to work. I figured the guy behind me was catching up, since pretty much everyone in my peer group manages races better than I do, but after another loop, he was now 7 minutes back. With that, I finally eased up and started thinking about Sunday.
I had a couple blisters on my right foot, but they weren't bothering me so I hoped a little extra Aquaphor would keep them from getting worse the next day. The guy who finished 2nd on Saturday wasn't running Sunday, so I was even less concerned about being chased. I was much slower right off the bat, but I was still running all alone out in front so once again I focused on just staying in control.
Nearing the end of the third loop, I looked back to see if anyone was behind me. The female winner from the day before was about 3 minutes back, but looking much stronger than I was. By the same place on the course a lap later, she'd cut the deficit in half. And by the time we got around there again, she was in front.
At that point the cumulative effect of the two days was setting in. The hot spot under my right heel was the greatest concern, but my tank was low generally. For the last 10 miles I'd walk a tenth and then run the rest of the mile, until I got to the last mile, when I was really out of gas. I really wanted to get in under 4 hours, but it just wasn't there.
I went home and repeated my routine from the day before, resting and eating as much as I could. The blisters from Saturday were worse, but the heel issue was still the biggest deal. I just hoped that staying off my feet would be all I needed.
But when I got dressed Monday morning, put my shoes on and started walking around, I couldn't take a step with my right foot without wincing. The inside edge of the ball of my big toe was bothering me as well, so it was just impossible to come up with a stride I could manage. I threw together a few sock combinations but nothing helped. It was time to go, and I couldn't go. I went back to bed.
WHAT ELSE?
Somehow I'd managed to get through many long runs in traditional running shoes with only minor blister issues, but after running almost entirely in Altras and Merrells for much of the last year, going back to Mizunos was something my feet couldn't handle. I've rarely been a brand loyalist and have generally been able to wear any shoe, but the wide toe boxes of Altra and Merrell might now be something I just can't give up, especially for long runs.
These are very low-key races, practically unheard of by anyone outside the inner circle of very frequent marathoners who run them. Let's not kid ourselves, they basically exist for people to run up their stats, either to move up in Marathon Maniacs rank (as I was attempting) or just add to the lifetime tally. That doesn't mean they're to be avoided, but there's little use in running just one day if you're not going to run all three. As I said, the course is quite rough on the lower legs; those folks who mosey along at 7-hour pace might be onto something.
SPLITS?
(Saturday/Sunday)
7:07/7:49
7:06/7:53
7:23/8:11
7:36/8:26
7:33/8:35
7:34/8:41
7:30/8:32
7:33/8:24
7:38/8:22
7:32/8:31
7:45/8:22
7:37/8:42
7:49/8:48
7:36/9:03
7:31/9:16
7:44/9:07
7:57/9:39
7:55/9:29
7:59/9:29
8:04/9:55
8:38/10:06
7:57/9:53
8:07/10:12
8:32/10:23
8:41/10:17
8:54/12:09
8:29/9:08 pace last .37/.34
OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
You get a goodie bag with a T-shirt and a few trinkets for entering. The medals are of the spinning variety but the reverse side carries only a generic "we support the Boston Marathon" message from the manufacturer (I assume this is temporary). The male and female winners get trophies:
WHAT'S NEXT?
Liberty 10K, July 4.
I ran a 3:26:24 marathon on Saturday and a 4:01:18 on Sunday, but did not start Monday's race because of a couple large blisters on my right foot that would have made 1 mile quite painful, let alone 26.2.
DID YOU WIN?
This is a tough one to categorize. Technically, I did win Saturday's race, beating 28 other entrants. And I was 2nd of 26 on Sunday (1st male). But the fields were largely noncompetitive (on Saturday, I lapped some folks 4 times on an 8 1/2-loop course), and beyond that, my entire goal for the weekend was to finish my first triple. So though it may seem like I'm beating myself up in spite of a couple of good runs -- I took almost 30 minutes off my previous back-to-back marathon best -- I'd have to say no, I didn't win.
HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
It took about 5 seconds to get to the front of the pack on Saturday. We ran the partial loop first, out and back, and at the turnaround about eight-tenths of a mile out I already had a pretty good cushion. So I forgot about everyone else for a while and just ran.
A little over half the loop was on smooth asphalt or sidewalk, but the south side of the lake gave us heavily cracked, uneven asphalt that tested my ankles as much as running on singletrack would. By the fifth time around, I was concerned that my ankles wouldn't make it through one day, let alone three. On the next loop, a pebble got under my foot somehow. If I were locked into a tight race or deeply concerned about my time, I might've just pushed through, but since I figured I had plenty of time, I stopped at the end of the loop to fix my shoe. I asked the volunteer how far ahead I was, expecting to hear something like 20 minutes. "Six minutes," she said.
A 6-minute lead with 6 miles to go and a warm, humid morning were both uncomfortable, so I got back to work. I figured the guy behind me was catching up, since pretty much everyone in my peer group manages races better than I do, but after another loop, he was now 7 minutes back. With that, I finally eased up and started thinking about Sunday.
I had a couple blisters on my right foot, but they weren't bothering me so I hoped a little extra Aquaphor would keep them from getting worse the next day. The guy who finished 2nd on Saturday wasn't running Sunday, so I was even less concerned about being chased. I was much slower right off the bat, but I was still running all alone out in front so once again I focused on just staying in control.
Nearing the end of the third loop, I looked back to see if anyone was behind me. The female winner from the day before was about 3 minutes back, but looking much stronger than I was. By the same place on the course a lap later, she'd cut the deficit in half. And by the time we got around there again, she was in front.
At that point the cumulative effect of the two days was setting in. The hot spot under my right heel was the greatest concern, but my tank was low generally. For the last 10 miles I'd walk a tenth and then run the rest of the mile, until I got to the last mile, when I was really out of gas. I really wanted to get in under 4 hours, but it just wasn't there.
I went home and repeated my routine from the day before, resting and eating as much as I could. The blisters from Saturday were worse, but the heel issue was still the biggest deal. I just hoped that staying off my feet would be all I needed.
But when I got dressed Monday morning, put my shoes on and started walking around, I couldn't take a step with my right foot without wincing. The inside edge of the ball of my big toe was bothering me as well, so it was just impossible to come up with a stride I could manage. I threw together a few sock combinations but nothing helped. It was time to go, and I couldn't go. I went back to bed.
WHAT ELSE?
Somehow I'd managed to get through many long runs in traditional running shoes with only minor blister issues, but after running almost entirely in Altras and Merrells for much of the last year, going back to Mizunos was something my feet couldn't handle. I've rarely been a brand loyalist and have generally been able to wear any shoe, but the wide toe boxes of Altra and Merrell might now be something I just can't give up, especially for long runs.
These are very low-key races, practically unheard of by anyone outside the inner circle of very frequent marathoners who run them. Let's not kid ourselves, they basically exist for people to run up their stats, either to move up in Marathon Maniacs rank (as I was attempting) or just add to the lifetime tally. That doesn't mean they're to be avoided, but there's little use in running just one day if you're not going to run all three. As I said, the course is quite rough on the lower legs; those folks who mosey along at 7-hour pace might be onto something.
SPLITS?
(Saturday/Sunday)
7:07/7:49
7:06/7:53
7:23/8:11
7:36/8:26
7:33/8:35
7:34/8:41
7:30/8:32
7:33/8:24
7:38/8:22
7:32/8:31
7:45/8:22
7:37/8:42
7:49/8:48
7:36/9:03
7:31/9:16
7:44/9:07
7:57/9:39
7:55/9:29
7:59/9:29
8:04/9:55
8:38/10:06
7:57/9:53
8:07/10:12
8:32/10:23
8:41/10:17
8:54/12:09
8:29/9:08 pace last .37/.34
OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
You get a goodie bag with a T-shirt and a few trinkets for entering. The medals are of the spinning variety but the reverse side carries only a generic "we support the Boston Marathon" message from the manufacturer (I assume this is temporary). The male and female winners get trophies:
Liberty 10K, July 4.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Race preview: Texas Threesome
WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Dallas, Texas
WHEN?
Saturday, May 25 through Monday, May 27
WHY?
Texas Threesome (specifically, the MS Marathon, Jim's Goose Chase Marathon and Bachman Memorial Day Marathon)
NO REALLY, WHY?
The Year of Stupid reaches a new high (or low) with 3 marathons in 3 days. Sure, it's a thinly-veiled effort to move up a notch in the Marathon Maniacs hierarchy, but if we're going to get into gimmicks, I'd rather be about this and not some electric zombie color run.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
Last year 15 folks ran on Saturday, 27 on Sunday and 21 on Monday. All but 1 of Saturday's field ran all 3 days. Laps around Bachman Lake starting at 5 a.m. doesn't jazz a whole lot of people, I guess.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
I expect pretty oppressive conditions with temperatures and humidity both in the 70s.
HOW DO WE WIN?
With very small fields of mid-packers and slower -- the average finish time last year was north of 5:40 -- I'll be up there in the standings, which really won't matter for anything because I don't think there are awards. The first goal, of course, is to still be healthy come next Tuesday. After that I'd like to be under 12 cumulative hours, and ultimately under 4:00 each day. I'm hoping that getting a chunk of miles in before the sun comes up will work in my favor.
Dallas, Texas
WHEN?
Saturday, May 25 through Monday, May 27
WHY?
Texas Threesome (specifically, the MS Marathon, Jim's Goose Chase Marathon and Bachman Memorial Day Marathon)
NO REALLY, WHY?
The Year of Stupid reaches a new high (or low) with 3 marathons in 3 days. Sure, it's a thinly-veiled effort to move up a notch in the Marathon Maniacs hierarchy, but if we're going to get into gimmicks, I'd rather be about this and not some electric zombie color run.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
Last year 15 folks ran on Saturday, 27 on Sunday and 21 on Monday. All but 1 of Saturday's field ran all 3 days. Laps around Bachman Lake starting at 5 a.m. doesn't jazz a whole lot of people, I guess.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
I expect pretty oppressive conditions with temperatures and humidity both in the 70s.
HOW DO WE WIN?
With very small fields of mid-packers and slower -- the average finish time last year was north of 5:40 -- I'll be up there in the standings, which really won't matter for anything because I don't think there are awards. The first goal, of course, is to still be healthy come next Tuesday. After that I'd like to be under 12 cumulative hours, and ultimately under 4:00 each day. I'm hoping that getting a chunk of miles in before the sun comes up will work in my favor.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Race review: Possum Kingdom Trail Run
ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
My race was nothing to write home about, but I successfully completed a 2nd straight 52-mile Saturday by crossing the imaginary line in 11:48:55.
DID YOU WIN?
No, once again you'd have to linger on the results for a bit to find me: 13th of 22 overall, 11th of 17 men. My pre-race prediction of 10 hours will rank as one of my most ridiculous wild guesses ever.
HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
My plan for the race was the same as it's been for all my other trail races: Go out fast and get as many miles in as possible before it warms up and I get worn down and have to muddle through to the end (maybe I should come up with a new plan). The first loop went along just swimmingly: the sand didn't seem too deep, the rocks weren't too pokey, the climbs were all completely manageable. There were only two stone-steps areas that slowed me to a walk. When I got back around to the start/finish line safely under 3 hours, amid some pretty strong runners, I felt great about how the day was going. A couple 3:30 loops and I'd be ecstatic!
Well, that didn't last (I knew it wouldn't). Somewhere along the second loop the sun came out and sucked all the life out of me. I'd been continuing to take in calories like I wanted, but my inattention to my water and salt levels was catching up to me. At each aid station I would cram in handfuls of potato chips and wash them down with a few extra gulps of water. I didn't feel much pain -- certainly no effects from the double marathon of a week earlier -- but my heart and lungs were being taxed too easily. After a 4-hour loops, I quit thinking about a finish time.
The last time around was nothing more than a mental struggle to keep moving forward. I wasn't going to quit -- I was way too far along to even think about that -- but making myself run, even a little bit, was tough. Every little rock on the trail was an excuse to walk that section, lest I trip and fall on my face. At the La Villa aid station, the volunteers told me I was in 11th place and there were only 3 people behind me because everyone else dropped. This turned out not to be true, but it was a good motivator to keep pushing (hmm, maybe that's what they had in mind). At the last aid station, I was struggling and took a seat for a few minutes. It was only 2.4 miles to the finish, but I was going to be safely under 12 hours and at that point that was good enough for me. After a few minutes of cold towels on my head and neck, I shuffled off to the finish.
WHAT ELSE?
The trail yielded several great views of the lake. On the first loop and part of the second, I made sure to look off to the side whenever I came to a clearing. But after a while, I lost the patience to look at how far I'd climbed (even though it wasn't that far). The hot sun is an evil, evil thing.
SPLITS?
1st 17.35 miles: 2:46:00 (9:34 pace)
2nd 17.35 miles: 4:03:00 (14:00 pace; 6:49:00/11:47 total)
3rd 17.35 miles: 4:59:55 (17:17 pace; 11:48:55/13:37 total)
OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
I signed up too late to get a shirt, but I'm sure it's just as high-quality as the one from the other Endurance Buzz Adventures race I've done, Isle du Bois. The finisher award is the same as IdB, too:
WHAT'S NEXT?
Texas Threesome, May 25-27.
My race was nothing to write home about, but I successfully completed a 2nd straight 52-mile Saturday by crossing the imaginary line in 11:48:55.
DID YOU WIN?
No, once again you'd have to linger on the results for a bit to find me: 13th of 22 overall, 11th of 17 men. My pre-race prediction of 10 hours will rank as one of my most ridiculous wild guesses ever.
HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
My plan for the race was the same as it's been for all my other trail races: Go out fast and get as many miles in as possible before it warms up and I get worn down and have to muddle through to the end (maybe I should come up with a new plan). The first loop went along just swimmingly: the sand didn't seem too deep, the rocks weren't too pokey, the climbs were all completely manageable. There were only two stone-steps areas that slowed me to a walk. When I got back around to the start/finish line safely under 3 hours, amid some pretty strong runners, I felt great about how the day was going. A couple 3:30 loops and I'd be ecstatic!
Well, that didn't last (I knew it wouldn't). Somewhere along the second loop the sun came out and sucked all the life out of me. I'd been continuing to take in calories like I wanted, but my inattention to my water and salt levels was catching up to me. At each aid station I would cram in handfuls of potato chips and wash them down with a few extra gulps of water. I didn't feel much pain -- certainly no effects from the double marathon of a week earlier -- but my heart and lungs were being taxed too easily. After a 4-hour loops, I quit thinking about a finish time.
The last time around was nothing more than a mental struggle to keep moving forward. I wasn't going to quit -- I was way too far along to even think about that -- but making myself run, even a little bit, was tough. Every little rock on the trail was an excuse to walk that section, lest I trip and fall on my face. At the La Villa aid station, the volunteers told me I was in 11th place and there were only 3 people behind me because everyone else dropped. This turned out not to be true, but it was a good motivator to keep pushing (hmm, maybe that's what they had in mind). At the last aid station, I was struggling and took a seat for a few minutes. It was only 2.4 miles to the finish, but I was going to be safely under 12 hours and at that point that was good enough for me. After a few minutes of cold towels on my head and neck, I shuffled off to the finish.
WHAT ELSE?
The trail yielded several great views of the lake. On the first loop and part of the second, I made sure to look off to the side whenever I came to a clearing. But after a while, I lost the patience to look at how far I'd climbed (even though it wasn't that far). The hot sun is an evil, evil thing.
SPLITS?
1st 17.35 miles: 2:46:00 (9:34 pace)
2nd 17.35 miles: 4:03:00 (14:00 pace; 6:49:00/11:47 total)
3rd 17.35 miles: 4:59:55 (17:17 pace; 11:48:55/13:37 total)
OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
I signed up too late to get a shirt, but I'm sure it's just as high-quality as the one from the other Endurance Buzz Adventures race I've done, Isle du Bois. The finisher award is the same as IdB, too:
Texas Threesome, May 25-27.
Friday, April 26, 2013
Race preview: Possum Kingdom Trail Run
WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Graford, Texas
WHEN?
Saturday, April 27
WHY?
Possum Kingdom Trail Run (in my case, the 52-mile event)
NO REALLY, WHY?
The Year of Stupid rolls on with 52-mile runs on back-to-back Saturdays. This is not a race I'm going to win, but I figure that everything I do will make me stronger for when something comes down the line that means more to me.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
There are 25 people signed up to run 3 17.35-mile loops. The 55K has 52 entrants and the 20K has 123.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
It'll be a warm one, starting in the low 60s and finishing near 80. I presume there will be plenty of shade, or it will be a very long day.
HOW DO WE WIN?
I can still feel the double marathon in my legs a little bit, but my effort is much lower on trails anyway so it shouldn't make much of a difference. The first goal, as always, is to finish without getting hurt. Beyond that, if I can get through this in 10 hours I will be very, very pleased.
Graford, Texas
WHEN?
Saturday, April 27
WHY?
Possum Kingdom Trail Run (in my case, the 52-mile event)
NO REALLY, WHY?
The Year of Stupid rolls on with 52-mile runs on back-to-back Saturdays. This is not a race I'm going to win, but I figure that everything I do will make me stronger for when something comes down the line that means more to me.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
There are 25 people signed up to run 3 17.35-mile loops. The 55K has 52 entrants and the 20K has 123.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
It'll be a warm one, starting in the low 60s and finishing near 80. I presume there will be plenty of shade, or it will be a very long day.
HOW DO WE WIN?
I can still feel the double marathon in my legs a little bit, but my effort is much lower on trails anyway so it shouldn't make much of a difference. The first goal, as always, is to finish without getting hurt. Beyond that, if I can get through this in 10 hours I will be very, very pleased.
Race review: Blue Ridge Marathon
ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
I survived America's Toughest (Double) Road Marathon, moseying along with a small group in 4:45 before working my butt off to run the official race in 4:56:52.
DID YOU WIN?
No, but I didn't plan to, either. The results won't show the asterisk indicating I ran the double, so my 260th-place finish (out of 429) will look pretty out of place compared to my other results. I was 195th of 286 men and 34th of 42 in my age group (at least 2 of the guys behind me were doublers as well).
HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
The incredible events in Watertown, Mass., on Friday night let me get a very rare few hours of pre-race sleep -- an effort that was wasted when the alarm went off at 1:30 a.m. to direct me to downtown Roanoke. I chatted with a few of the other 15 or so folks running the unofficial marathon and found a variety of resumes: One had just run Boston, a couple had done Western States, others had never gone past 26.2 miles or 50K.
We headed out at 2:30 at an easy, non-competitive pace, generously walking the uphills and coming back down at whatever speed was comfortable (I ran the downhills pretty seriously since restraint would probably wreck my quads and make a long day even longer). I took in the views where I could and noted that Roanoke looked a lot bigger than what I expected.
After mile 20 or so, the group started to break up a bit. I was in between folks, not far behind the 4 or 5 leading the way. I was hoping I might have some extra time between races to tend to my feet and take in some more calories, but about a mile from the finish we stopped to let everyone catch up so that we could run it in as a group. With 20 minutes until the official race start, I only had time to move my bag from someone's car to the bag drop, take a potty break, and line up to go again.
I felt pretty good heading out the second time, but when we got to the first climb I found that my threshold for walk breaks had weakened substantially. Another doubler passed me and I commented that mile 28 was a lot tougher than mile 2. Knowing the course, though, made the climbs a lot easier to manage. I tried to just keep marching and enjoying the view from the mountains.
My goal for the official race was to finish in about the same time as the unofficial race, and through 15 miles or so I was pretty close to that target. Climbing up Peakwood, though, that pretty much went out the window, and I ignored the watch until about 4 miles remained and I realized I needed to keep moving purposefully to come in under 5 hours. I kept the walk breaks to a minimum, which was easier to do with all the hills behind me, but didn't feel completely safe until I was into the final mile. My wife was waiting for me about 50 yards from the finish, handing my daughter to me over the railing for the last dash to the line.
WHAT ELSE?
Running 52.4 road miles up and down mountains is hard work, but it's made much easier with the kind of support we had, especially for the first go-round. One of the runners' wives served as a mobile aid station captain, driving her SUV to various points on the course and meeting us with water, Gatorade, pretzels and so on. A couple residents put tables out in front of their houses with veggie broth, cookies and other items, and a car met us at mile 20 with donuts. That just floored me.
I ditched my gloves early in the official race and then later wished I had them back. Virginia's mountains are tiny compared to the Western U.S. but there's still a noticeable drop in temperature and increase in wind once you get on top of them. I had packed another, cooler shirt to change into for the second 26.2 but was stymied by having to repin my bib. That worked out to my advantage.
SPLITS?
8:59
9:56
12:42
10:59
9:39
14:30
14:00
10:26
8:43
11:30
11:33
12:46
14:27
9:15
9:22
12:06
12:47
15:45
13:08
9:30
10:45
11:17
11:26
11:37
10:44
9:51 pace last .94
OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
You get a shirt. The "expo", which was just a few tables set up in a small room, had a few giveaway items such as zippered bags and gels. The medal is a good one, though I wish the sponsor name were the size of the race name and vice versa:
WHAT'S NEXT?
Possum Kingdom Trail Run (52M), Saturday.
I survived America's Toughest (Double) Road Marathon, moseying along with a small group in 4:45 before working my butt off to run the official race in 4:56:52.
DID YOU WIN?
No, but I didn't plan to, either. The results won't show the asterisk indicating I ran the double, so my 260th-place finish (out of 429) will look pretty out of place compared to my other results. I was 195th of 286 men and 34th of 42 in my age group (at least 2 of the guys behind me were doublers as well).
HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
The incredible events in Watertown, Mass., on Friday night let me get a very rare few hours of pre-race sleep -- an effort that was wasted when the alarm went off at 1:30 a.m. to direct me to downtown Roanoke. I chatted with a few of the other 15 or so folks running the unofficial marathon and found a variety of resumes: One had just run Boston, a couple had done Western States, others had never gone past 26.2 miles or 50K.
We headed out at 2:30 at an easy, non-competitive pace, generously walking the uphills and coming back down at whatever speed was comfortable (I ran the downhills pretty seriously since restraint would probably wreck my quads and make a long day even longer). I took in the views where I could and noted that Roanoke looked a lot bigger than what I expected.
After mile 20 or so, the group started to break up a bit. I was in between folks, not far behind the 4 or 5 leading the way. I was hoping I might have some extra time between races to tend to my feet and take in some more calories, but about a mile from the finish we stopped to let everyone catch up so that we could run it in as a group. With 20 minutes until the official race start, I only had time to move my bag from someone's car to the bag drop, take a potty break, and line up to go again.
I felt pretty good heading out the second time, but when we got to the first climb I found that my threshold for walk breaks had weakened substantially. Another doubler passed me and I commented that mile 28 was a lot tougher than mile 2. Knowing the course, though, made the climbs a lot easier to manage. I tried to just keep marching and enjoying the view from the mountains.
My goal for the official race was to finish in about the same time as the unofficial race, and through 15 miles or so I was pretty close to that target. Climbing up Peakwood, though, that pretty much went out the window, and I ignored the watch until about 4 miles remained and I realized I needed to keep moving purposefully to come in under 5 hours. I kept the walk breaks to a minimum, which was easier to do with all the hills behind me, but didn't feel completely safe until I was into the final mile. My wife was waiting for me about 50 yards from the finish, handing my daughter to me over the railing for the last dash to the line.
WHAT ELSE?
Running 52.4 road miles up and down mountains is hard work, but it's made much easier with the kind of support we had, especially for the first go-round. One of the runners' wives served as a mobile aid station captain, driving her SUV to various points on the course and meeting us with water, Gatorade, pretzels and so on. A couple residents put tables out in front of their houses with veggie broth, cookies and other items, and a car met us at mile 20 with donuts. That just floored me.
I ditched my gloves early in the official race and then later wished I had them back. Virginia's mountains are tiny compared to the Western U.S. but there's still a noticeable drop in temperature and increase in wind once you get on top of them. I had packed another, cooler shirt to change into for the second 26.2 but was stymied by having to repin my bib. That worked out to my advantage.
SPLITS?
8:59
9:56
12:42
10:59
9:39
14:30
14:00
10:26
8:43
11:30
11:33
12:46
14:27
9:15
9:22
12:06
12:47
15:45
13:08
9:30
10:45
11:17
11:26
11:37
10:44
9:51 pace last .94
OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
You get a shirt. The "expo", which was just a few tables set up in a small room, had a few giveaway items such as zippered bags and gels. The medal is a good one, though I wish the sponsor name were the size of the race name and vice versa:
Possum Kingdom Trail Run (52M), Saturday.
Monday, April 15, 2013
On Boston
I'm not worried about the runners. There aren't a lot of emotionally weak folks lining up to run marathons, and certainly not to run them fast enough to get to Boston. One after another, tweets rolled in from runners vowing not just to persevere but to focus their energies and redouble their efforts. If you're driven by competition with others, you'd better get your ass in gear.
What worries me are the spectators, the volunteers, the sponsors... all the people who involve themselves peripherally with running and make events happen. And I worry about the runners' families and friends, whose encouragement allows the sport to flourish. Will today drive these people away, or give them pause, or soften their support for this lifestyle with which so many of us primarily identify ourselves?
No one runs alone. There's a partner at home watching the kids, or a stranger cheering from the sidewalk, or a finish-line worker handing out medals, or a police officer blocking traffic at an intersection, or a chiropractor with his name on the back of a race T-shirt. There are fifty million people in this country who run, but so many more who make running happen.
My message to them is this: We need you, now more than ever. Please do not be afraid. The cowards can't touch the runners; don't let them get you either. We will continue to run; we need you to continue to make running happen.
What worries me are the spectators, the volunteers, the sponsors... all the people who involve themselves peripherally with running and make events happen. And I worry about the runners' families and friends, whose encouragement allows the sport to flourish. Will today drive these people away, or give them pause, or soften their support for this lifestyle with which so many of us primarily identify ourselves?
No one runs alone. There's a partner at home watching the kids, or a stranger cheering from the sidewalk, or a finish-line worker handing out medals, or a police officer blocking traffic at an intersection, or a chiropractor with his name on the back of a race T-shirt. There are fifty million people in this country who run, but so many more who make running happen.
My message to them is this: We need you, now more than ever. Please do not be afraid. The cowards can't touch the runners; don't let them get you either. We will continue to run; we need you to continue to make running happen.
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