Colder Boulder 5k 2008

I always run with my Garmin 305. I don't think of myself as a slave to it, but I like to track my miles and pace over long and short workouts. It sometimes causes confusion in races, because my totals rarely match the race length exactly--it may read a 5k as 3.2 or a marathon as 26.43. This comes down to how much ducking and weaving I do on a course, however, varying off the straight line that determines a course length. As such, I don't let it bother me (with one exception, but that was a different story).

Naturally I had my Garmin with me today for Boulder's "invitational" 5k followup to the summer Bolder Boulder 10k. "Invitational" means that runners who finish in under 62 minutes are able to race other runners in special heats based on finishing time. Ostensibly this lets runners compete against others who are theoretically at the same ability level or speed (although as my friend Laura commented, what's to stop a runner from turning in a deliberately slow 10k time and run in a later heat with comparatively slower runners?). There is also an "open" division for people who didn't finish the 10k under the cutoff time, or wanted to sleep in a bit. Unlike the summer 10k, which runs through the neighborhood, the 5k winds its way through the CU campus, which is quite pretty in the fall. And, for the first time in all the (3) years I've run this event, the conditions were absolutely perfect. There was no wind (like last year), no ice anywhere on the course (like 2 years ago), the sun was shining, and temps had to have been in the low 50s to upper 40s.

I ran in the "54:00-59:59" invitational. Now, the day before, I ran a fantastic but pretty grueling 22-mile training run with my marathon training group, Runner's Edge of the Rockies. Because of this, I didn't plan on running a very fast or hard Colder Boulder. I figured I could probably finish in under half an hour. After a 2-mile warmup jog, however, I revised my thinking: sub-30 would be a miracle.

At 9:17 (cutting it close as usual) I lined up at the start. My Garmin was on; I'd used it to track my warmup miles. At 9:20 the gun went off and so did I. I didn't look at my Garmin to see what my pace was--I was going to run this one totally by feel. I knew this would be a slow race, because I was still a little stiff from the previous day's long run. Moreover, I was okay with that. So I wasn't going to let myself look at my pace, speed, time, or distance. I just put it out of my mind and let myself go.

Actually, the first half of the race felt fantastic. I was passing other runners, which I always enjoy (who doesn't?). And I felt great! That 2-mile warmup really made the difference--if I hadn't done that, I'm sure I would have had a terrible race.

A little more than halfway along the course, at the aid station, I slowed to a walk to get a drink. At this point I glanced down at my Garmin for the first time, to see how I was doing. Horrors! The damn thing read 00:00! I hadn't turned it on at the start! I took some consolation from the fact that my pace was coming down from sub-8-minute miles (it does show my speed, even if it's not recording). But I was discouraged: at about the 1-mile mark, feeling as strong as I was, and noticing all the people I'd been passing, I'd started thinking I was going to have a pretty good race after all. Now, I had no idea.

I admit: I was dejected at that moment. I let myself walk for a minute or so, over the course of which I was passed by about a dozen people, all of whom I had previously picked off. But I shook it off. I reminded myself that I was doing this for fun. I had nothing to prove to anybody. I'd run 22 miles just 24 hours ago, dammit! So what if I wasn't recording this? I'm still enjoying myself and feeling great!

With that, I started running again. Soon I passed the most recent runner to have zipped by me during my walk; and a moment later, I passed the next one. And then the next. And then I made it my mission to re-take my lead ahead of all the runners who had passed me. Why not? They were still running at roughly the same speed and, unlike me, had not had the luxury of a recovery period.

So I did. As we wound through the most picturesque portion of the run, the heart of the campus, I kept my speed up and, one by one, passed by all the runners who shot past me when I was roadkill. With each one, my heart lifted and my spirit soared a little higher--and my turnover picked up, just a little. I counted them off in my head: "Five...four...three...two...one..." I passed the last one at the three mile mark. I had regained my position in the pack with one tenth of a mile to go. As I turned the second-to-last corner on the north side of the Field House, I saw two more runners ahead of me. They were going at a pretty good clip; but so was I. I could take 'em. As I turned the last corner into the Field House, I turned it on full blast, sprinting to the finish line, rocketing past those last two runners, and (according to my friend Dan) practically flying over the finishing mats. In fact, I think I cleared both mats in one stride!

I have no idea what my pace was in that final .05k sprint. If I had to guess, I'd say crazy fast. It felt so good. Not the fact that I'd passed two more people (although that was nice), but just the sheer pleasure of my speed. I wonder if sprinters feel like this all the time. My heart was going a mile a minute (hell, by the end there maybe I was too!). I couldn't stop smiling. So what if I couldn't tell what my time was yet? All I had to do was wait a few minutes for the results to be posted. And even then, it didn't matter. I ran a fun race. I really enjoyed myself. If I'd deliberately decided not to use my Garmin, I probably would have had a faster time (since I wouldn't have had my pity party walk). But none of that mattered. I ran a solid race, felt great, and had enjoyed myself. And (except for about a minute in the middle) I never once worried about how fast I was going, or how far I'd gone or had yet to go, or anything like that.

Of course, once the results were up, I made a beeline for the posting. And I'm happy to say that I PR'd and finished in 24:21 and placed 11th out of 74 in my division!

Scream Scram 5k 2008

I just want to write a quick blog about the race I ran on Friday. It was pretty much a last minute choice--I'd decided after the Omaha marathon that I wouldn't run any races in October (with two in September and two in April, plus one more each in November and December) I was more than covered for the number of races I want to get in 2008). But my friend Keri told me about this 5k at Washington Park, and it sounded like it would be fun, so I signed up on Tuesday. Being a week before Halloween, runners were encouraged to show up in costume, which was likely to be interesting (fortunately for me, my running outfit pretty much is a costume).

The most interesting part about it for me, and really the reason for this story, was the friends I saw that night. Obviously Keri was there, and I figured I'd be able to spot at least one other Runner's Edge member (in fact I saw two: Dana and Jim, both out with their kids). I also saw some familiar faces from the Irish Snug group. At this point, I've become used to that: it's a pretty sizeable community, but when you go to a lot of events you're bound to see some familiar faces because everybody else is doing the same thing. Naturally membership in a running club (or two or three) helps those odds. I also saw some women I'd met when I saw "Spirit of the Marathon" in the theatres earlier this year (and whom I also ran into at another 5k I ran in June...see what I mean?).

But what really surprised me was seeing my friend Julie there. Julie and I worked on a show together in Parker last year, and I'm proud to say that I rekindled her interest in running at the time (mostly because I would never shut up about it). Although she had some false starts in the last year, she and her boyfriend ran this race and she happened to see me in the crowd. I was delighted to see her and very happy that she'd had a successful race. I'm sure I'll see her again at another race (if nothing else, probably the same one next year).

Oh, and I have to tell you about my finish. I ran a very good, strong race; and in fact my average pace matched my fastest 5k speed, so I'm happy with that. As I raced toward the finish line, I saw a small child--no higher than my knee--jogging up, and an adult--I'm guessing his mother, although I don't know that for certain--coming on his left. Since she was on the left, I decided to break to his right to pass him. Unfortunately, there was no room on the kid's right to pass. So instead, I leapt over him, hurtling across the finish line (and, thank god, managing not to kick him in the head as I did so). I sincerely hope somebody got a picture of that.

Omaha Marathon 2008 Part 3: The Race!

(“So now we come to it: a detailed recounting of the marathon itself!” “Are you going to take us through all 26.2 miles?” “No. Just the most memorable parts, for better or worse.” “I get it. The thrill of victory, and the agony of the feet.” “Watch it! One more pun like that and you’ll lose me my fan base!”)

I’ve trained pretty hard over the last couple of years to not shoot out too fast at the start of a race, and I’ve gotten pretty good at it. I had my Garmin on my left wrist and my pace band on my right, so I knew how fast I wanted each mile to go, and I stuck within a few seconds of my splits for the first 6 mile loop. I ran with Kari for awhile at the start, enjoying the company and taking it easy. I was feeling strong and confident, and didn’t even mind as the course wound its way towards the starting zone and that first big hill again (“Although it was kind of trippy, seeing the signs marked ‘Mile 25’ and realizing I still had 19 to go.” “You’d think they could have waited until after everyone had made the first pass before putting those out.”). I saw my family fan club just past the point where the 10K course split towards the finish area, which was a nice confidence booster that carried me through the next several miles.

Starting at about mile 8 (“Still running on pace?” “More or less. That Garmin is a lifesaver.”) I began seeing my teammates who were running the half marathon, coming back from their turnaround and heading into their final 5K. First I saw Coach David, looking strong and tearing down the same hill I was powering up. Then, practically on each others’ heels, I saw Rose, Jen, and Al, every one looking tall and strong (“Did Al finish within ten minutes of Jen?” “He did. I’ve never seen the big guy so happy.”). I slapped fives and shouted words of encouragement, feeling high as a kite myself.

As the course wound its way south towards the Henry Doorly Zoo, past the point where the half marathon course turned back, I found myself virtually alone. I could see a few runners in the distance, and barely heard the sounds of others behind me. Running through the zoo itself was nice, if a bit of a challenge because of the hills. I heard birds squawking as I ran past a giant pond, but other than that no real sounds of wildlife (“Stupid nature! Sleep on your own time!” “Wow. Nine pages before your first Simpsons(TM) reference. That’s gotta be some kind of record.”).

Coming out of the zoo, the course turned north. My focus was pretty internal at that point, as I was concentrating on keeping my pace up the long hill, so I don’t remember much of it. In fact nothing terribly memorable happened until I lost my right nipple band-aid at about mile 18. But again, was so focused on my pace (which was starting to slip at that point) that I didn’t even recognize the pain for what it was until mile 20. I started asking spectators and policemen alike if anyone had a band-aid, and it wasn’t until mile 21 that a cop finally put me out of my nippular misery (“You completely passed over seeing some of the parade at breakfast on Saturday, which was a pleasant memory for the whole group, but you spend a paragraph on this?!” “You’ll notice I haven’t said anything about my blistering thigh chafeage.”)

By the time I got to mile 20 I was in a pretty bad way for another reason, too. I’d let myself become dehydrated to the point that my legs were shaking under me, and I slowed to a walk out of fear of collapsing. Occasionally I would try jogging, but could only cover a small distance before the shakes started up again. Between that and the energy-sapping heat that arose during that last 10K, I’m afraid I didn’t exactly cover myself in glory. But I was determined to have a strong finish, and with about a mile and a half to go I cranked up the juice and started running again, ignoring any pain or spasms I might encounter.

I turned onto Cuming just before mile 25 (“Bet you weren’t sorry to see that sign this time.”). Half a mile past that, as the course turned right and headed back to the staging area, I saw Jill in the distance, cheering me on (“Thanks, Jill!”). I picked up my stride and soon saw Merrill (“Thanks, Merrill!”). Just before the course split towards the finish, I saw a whole Runner’s Edge contingent, smiling, waving, taking pictures, and cheering (“Thanks, Coach David, Dan, Jim, Al, Barb, Tara, Laura, Jen, Karen, Lana, Rose, Susan, and Steve!” “Did you get everyone?” “God, I hope so. If I missed you, please let me know.”). A final burst of speed for the last 0.2 miles, and there were my dad and sister screaming and taking pictures as I crossed the finish line (“Thanks, Dad and Sara!”). I had done it: I had finished my fourth marathon (“And well before 3:00, to boot!”).

It really was a fantastic, successful, and enjoyable trip. Everybody had a great time. Some testimonials:

• Karen (half marathon PR!): “I knew I would set a new PR at mile 10. That was the best part of the race for me.”


• Tara (full marathon): “I liked running through the shaded section just past the zoo.”


• Kerri (half marathon): “I felt my best at the ConAgra campus at mile 8.”


• Jen (half marathon): “I liked the long uphill before the turnaround. It reminded me of the Loretto Heights speed workout.”


• Dan (full marathon PR!): “The shaded section on the back side of the zoo was very nice, but there was random furniture that I wondered about. Didn’t the monkeys like their couch?”


• Jason (first full marathon, finished 8th overall!): “At mile 14, I was in the zone, running through the crowd, not sure who was running the half or the full, just lost in the people.”


• Coach David: “Seeing all you guys finish was the best part of the whole weekend.”

So there you have it. That’s my tale of the 2008 Omaha Marathon, complete with running commentary and sound bites from my teammates. Coach David is looking at doing the Oklahoma City Marathon next April. You can be sure I’ll be along, and I hope most of the Omaha road trip alumni (several of whom are also Kansas City road trip alumni) will as well. Thanks for reading!

Click here to see my pictures from the weekend.

Omaha Marathon 2008 Part 2: The Buildup

(“Welcome back! In my last post I talked about the bus ride out and the first night in Omaha.” “A real party town, eh?” “Don’t knock it: Larry the Cable Guy was in concert at the Qwest Center, and Jessica Simpson played on Saturday.” “Oooh. And the marathon?” “A huge blaze of no publicity at all.”)

We had agreed to meet at the Hampton for breakfast on Saturday morning. This actually worked out well, since the Hampton had a bigger space than the Fairfield, so we were all able to sit more or less together (“Forcing all the non-Denver-based hotel guests to stand?” “No, but the certainly kept their distance. We’re an intimidating group, especially Tara when there’s waffles on the line.” “Pretty territorial, eh?” “Yep. Try to get in on that and you’re asking for it.”).

After breakfast we visited the Race Expo, which was set up in a large conference room at InPlay, an Entertainment Center next door to the Fairfield (“Wrong side of the tracks, right?” “Well, the Qwest Center was still full of River City Roundup stuff.” “River City? Isn’t that in Iowa?”). As race expos go, it wasn’t a huge affair. But we were able to get our shirts, race bibs, and timing chips, as well as some other goodies. At 11:00 about a dozen of us took a bus tour of the course—sort of. Between street closures for the Roundup parade, street closures due to construction, and one-way streets going the wrong way, it was a somewhat circuitous tour of the course (“We got held up en route to the start because we were caught behind the parade.” “At least the parade wasn’t following the same course.” “Then, at one point near the Henry Doorly Zoo, we were going down the street in the opposite direction the marathon would take.” “What was that like?” “It was nice, for once, to be going up a hill and be able to think, ‘It’s all downhill from here.’”).

After the course tour we returned to the Hampton Inn (“This place is quickly becoming Runner’s Edge Central!”), to regroup before lunch. My dad joined us there, along with my sister. In fact, the two of them made it to the Hampton before I did, and spent some time talking with Jill and some of the other Runner’s Edge folks (“So now Jill knows all your secrets.” “Yes, and unfortunately, so does my Dad.”). We walked down to the Old Mattress Factory Bar and Grill for lunch; but due to their No Dogs Allowed policy my sister couldn’t join us (“Relax, folks. He means, because she had her puppy with her.” EDITOR’S NOTE: This joke pre-approved by Dr Tisdale, MD).

Then, after a tasty lunch, it was back to the hotel for some reading and a nap before the prerace pasta dinner. Several of us thought that four o’clock was awfully early to have a prerace dinner, but there you have it. The guest speaker, Jerry Dunn, was scheduled to talk at 4:15 (“I was certain that was a misprint: they had to have meant, dinner was at 4 and the speech would be at 5:15. That way people could eat and then digest during the speech.” “Was that the way it was?” “Nope.”). However, I cannot tell you what his speech was about, because I didn’t hear a word of it. Since he was speaking at 4:15, he was dealing with the crowd noise, as people arrived, found their seats (or tried to), and made for the buffet line. Between that and a less-than-stellar sound system, I’m afraid it was pretty much a lost cause.

Actually, I ducked out of the diner shortly after arriving. A number of my teammates were already there and trying to eat, but the food was less than amazing (“Rose took one bite and proclaimed it the worst food she’d ever tasted.” “Wow, that’s harsh.” “But she was awfully fond of the ice cream…”). So instead, my dad and sister and I drove to Omaha Prime, where I had a fantastic filet mignon (“Thanks for the free dinner, Dad!” “Wait…wasn’t the pasta dinner included with your registration? That was a free meal, too.” “Maybe, but not nearly as nice.”). I also enjoyed the chance to have some quality time with my family. They did come all this way to see me, and that meant an awful lot to me (“What about everybody else?” “As it turns out, everyone else decided to blow off the dinner. They all went to the Spaghetti Works for an all-you-can-eat.” “Good choice!”). Then, after dinner, we took a walk around Old Market (“A walk? Wouldn’t you want to spend as much time as possible off your feet, seeing as how you were running a marathon the next day?” “I tried to tell them that…”). Then it was back to the hotel for sleep. Of course, I was still pretty wired, so sleep didn’t come easily. I think I finally went down for the count about 10:00.

I woke up at 3:00, two hours before I’d planned on it, and drifted in and out until the alarm went off. Randy had taken a “belts-and-suspenders” approach, and within 30 seconds of the clock alarm, our wake-up call rang through (“There’s nothing wrong with a belts-and-suspenders approach.” “Unless you’re talking about actual belts and suspenders, which just looks silly.”). I turned on the news while we got ready: not a single mention of the marathon, although the Huskers’ loss to VA Tech was big news (“Don’t sound surprised. It’s Nebraska. The stadium is the third largest city on gameday. Football’s all they have.” “I hear they have corn, too.”). Nothing daunted, we made our way to the Hampton to meet up with everybody and caravan over to the race start (“Is it a caravan if you’re on foot?” “More a parade, I guess, but we didn’t have music.”). Dad and Sara were there, along with Sara’s puppy Persephone. While my family went in search of coffee, I went in search of a portajohn that didn’t have a fifty-person line (“Did you find it?” “Eventually, yes. Randy and I made our way towards the finish area and found about half a dozen with only a few people waiting.” “How long did that last?” “Maybe 20 seconds after we left.”).

After one last “Good luck!” to everyone on the team, I made my way to the 4:30 pace group. I was ready. I felt confident. I’d trained hard for the last 15 weeks. Victory was in my grasp, I could taste it. I had family and friends to support me. I had my Garmin, my shades, my lucky shirt and socks, my gels, and my Star Wars (“You are such a dork.”). The National Anthem played. Then, the starting pistol was fired and I was off!

Next: the race!

Omaha Marathon 2008 Part 1: The Journey

(“What’s this?” “Well, I had quite an adventure on my trip to Omaha with Runner’s Edge of the Rockies, to run the marathon. I thought my friends and family might enjoy reading about it.” “Uh-huh. And what am I doing here?” “You’ll provide the color commentary and humorous insight. You’re a literary device I’ve borrowed from my father’s Christmas letters.” “’Borrowed’? That’s being charitable.” “Hey, I’m not using you for moral judgment. Just stick to the jokes, okay?”)

Early in the morning on Friday the 26th, I started my journey to Omaha for the Marathon. I met up with 17 other members of Runner’s Edge of the Rockies, as well as Coach David, for the bus ride. (“Was it Barney, the sparkly-purple monster bus with the turnaround seats and flat screen TVs you were supposed to have last year for Kansas City?” “No. Apparently Barney was having clutch problems. The funny thing is, I’d emailed Coach David the night before, asking if we were definitely getting Barney this year.” “So you jinxed it. Nice going.” “Yeah, he said the same thing.”) As the sun started to rise, we climbed into the bus and began the journey.

I spent the first hour or swapping stories with Nason, Randy, Al, Jim, and Jennifer (“Really? Don’t you only have, like, three stories to tell?” “Yes, but fortunately Jen has about a trillion-and-one.”). Then Coach David led us in introductions, including which race we were running, and which was our favorite race or run. It was a nice ice-breaker, not to mention a chance to continue to put faces to names (“You mean you still don’t know who’s who in the group? Haven’t you been running with them for two years now?” “Give me a break, will you? It’s a huge group.” “So who didn’t you know?” “I’m not gonna answer that.”)

After that we played Running Trivia. Coach David asked the questions, and whoever shouted out the most correct answers won a prize: a nice computer bag/briefcase. The questions were all over the (running) map: track and field, Olympics, marathons and half marathons. Honestly, it was a challenging game, with some really obscure questions (“Sample question intro: ‘You guys should get this one.’ ‘You know Coach, you keep saying that.’ ‘Some of these questions are hard.’ ‘SOME?!’”). Most of us were just shouting out names and numbers (“Except for Al. Boy, when it comes to random sports quotes, he’s the man.”). Al was the big winner, but disclaimed his prize, leading to a tiebreaker between Jill and Jen (“How’d you do?” “Well, I knew the answer to one, and guessed correctly on a few others. Tied with a few others.” “For what, third?” “Technically, fourth.”).

After a quick stop just past North Platte (the halfway point), we broke out “Running On The Sun,” a documentary about the Badwater Ultramarathon. (“One hundred and thirty-five miles from Badwater, Utah, to Mt Whitney in California.” “People do this? Voluntarily? For fun?”). After that we broke out “Mission Accomplished: The Jim Lynch Experience,” the video Jim made after he and his friend David finished their 50 States mission (“He’s run a marathon in every state, and is working on the second time around. Omaha will be #74.” “Is his wife going to buy him a diamond after the next one?” “Don’t give him ideas…”).

Lunch was in Kearney, at a Quiznos (“The only one in Kearney, I’ll bet.”). Then it was off to Lincoln, where we stopped at Pioneer State Park for a nice, easy taper run at 3:00 (“Along with all the high schoolers. What was that like?” “Humbling. Those kids are fast. But I think Al was enjoying himself.”). The other interesting thing about that was dealing with the almost biblical number of grasshoppers that were out there. Not to mention the heat. I just had to keep reminding myself, at least the marathon starts in the morning (“Yes, but when do you finish?” “Hopefully before 3:00.”).

We got into town at about six that evening, dropping off most of the team at the Hampton Inn before the rest of us—the “cool kids”—made our way to the Fairfield across the tracks (“’Across the tracks,’ eh?” “Yes. We were literally on the wrong side of the tracks. Very sketchy.” “Sketchy? I thought you were in Omaha, not South Central LA.”). Then, at my suggestion, it was off to the Upstream Brewery in Old Market for dinner.

I love the Upstream. Every time I’d come out to visit my sister, who was in medical school at Creighton, we’d come to the Upstream. The food can’t be beat, and the beer is terrific. And sure, due to the fact that there was a rodeo and a marathon in town that weekend (“Gee, I wonder which one got more press coverage.” “Wrong. The Huskers were playing VA Tech Saturday night. I’m surprised anyone in the state knew that there was even a Presidential Debate on Friday.”), it took about an hour to get us all seated. And sure, we were at three tables spaced apart in the main room, instead of one long one. But that still didn’t stop me from making my customary toast to the group, wishing everyone luck for Sunday (“How is something ‘customary’ if you’ve only done it twice?” “Give it time.” “I’m sure the other diners loved you for it.” “Well fortunately, I know how to work a room. And the bouncer was surprisingly gentle.”). In any event, dinner was a huge success. And I was able to connect with my sister, who had driven out to cheer me on.

Then it was back to the hotel for sleep. Since I don’t always sleep well the night before a big race, I always try to get a solid night’s rest two nights out. That wasn’t a problem here. Between surprisingly little sleep Thursday night, a looooong bus trip, a run in energy-sapping heat, and the excitement of dinner, I was asleep almost before my head hit the pillow.

Next: the Expo!

Coolest. Thing. Ever!!

(That's right, it's a non-racing blog. Don't worry, I'm gearing up for my multi-part epic later this month.)

Right after work this afternoon I drove to the large bookstore down the street. I had to buy a copy of Brad Meltzer's latest thriller, The Book of Lies, and get down to Highlands Ranch to another bookstore where he was doing a signing. I'm a big fan of Brad Meltzer. A few years ago he wrote an incredible seven-part miniseries for DC Comics entitled Identity Crisis which absolutely turned the industry upside-down. Even before the series was finished, I was hooked. Heck, after the first issue, I bought one of his novels in an airport bookstore to have something to read on the flight. I remember looking at them all, thinking they all sounded fantastic, and finally settling on The First Counsel because the opening paragraph was so arresting. Check it out and see what I mean. Within months I had bought all of his books, and now I grab the new ones as soon as they hit the shelves (in fact, last year I bought the last one when it came out, and finished reading it before my best friend had a chance to tell me that he'd bought it for me, for Christmas).

Before leaving this morning, I had also grabbed my copies of all 6 of Brad's other novels, as well as all seven parts of that comic miniseries masterpiece, Identity Crisis. I figured at the signing, if he was feeling generous, maybe I could get his autograph on some of those, as well. (This is nothing new for me: when Dragons of Summer Flame was published in 1996, I brought no less than 12 books with me to the authors' appearance at the Tattered Cover Cherry Creek.)

As I was getting in my car following my purchase, I glanced out the window and who should I see in the parking lot but Brad Meltzer himelf! I stopped the car, did a double take, rolled down my window, and called "Excuse me...are you Brad Meltzer?"

"I am," he replied.

"Holy crap!" I said. I held aloft my recent purchase. "I literally just bought this book and am on my way to your signing!"

"Oh," he said. Then, a beat later, he offered, "Would you like me to sign it now?"

I think my head exploded just a little bit at that moment. "Sure!" I stopped the car, and as he came over to shake my hand, I introduced myself. He signed The Book of Lies for me: "For Doug--this has never happened before! Really." He handed it back, and I thanked him, and then asked if he would mind signing my Identity Crisis issues. He was more than happy to, so I pulled them out of my backpack and removed them, one at a time, from their plastic bags (yes, I keep my comics in bags. None of you are surprised). While he was doing this, we chatted for a bit. He commented that my comics were all first editions ("Yeah, I don't have the patience to wait for reprints"). I told him I was glad he was signing the comics; when he was in town last year I'd seen a notice asking people to only bring books because otherwise it might take all night ("What? Who said that?" he demanded). He invited me to come down to the other bookstore for the signing anyway. I assured him that I would, pleased now that I, at least, wouldn't have to stand in line afterwards.

(By the way, it took me some time to find a copy in that first bookstore. They seemed unaccountably to have disappeared, which was odd since there'd been a huge pile of them yesterday. I deduced later that the reason I couldn't find any copies of The Book of Lies, and the reason Brad Meltzer happened to be at that exact same bookstore at that exact same time, was that he was in the store signing them so they could stick an "Autographed Copy" sticker on the cover.)

As we parted company and I got back into my car, the most flattering part of the encounter happened. As I pulled out, I heard him calling my name again. "Doug! The Doug!" I stopped. He pointed at my car--specifically at my personalized license plate. "The Doug! Is that in your email?"

"Yes," I said. "It's in my signature."

"I've gotten an email from you!" I was more than impressed (and, again, flattered). Sure, it's a distinctive nickname, that's why I use it; but here's a big-time, New York Times Bestselling author with millions of fans and god knows how many email correspondents, and I think I sent him one tiny email once, and he remembers. That's awesome. Tell me that's not awesome!

I went to the signing. I listened to Brad read from the new book, and talk about comics, and his campaign to save the House Where Superman Was Born, and his newest TV show pitch. I watched the crowd (several with armloads of comics--Identity Crisis, Justice League of America, Green Arrow) line up. I jumped in quickly to shake his hand one last time and thank him for his kindness and autographs and say good-bye. I even spent some time chatting up the cute blonde who was his media escort. All in all, it was an awesome evening.

But nothing can top the afternoon's random, lightning-strike meeting in the bookstore parking lot.

Park to Park 10-mile 2008

"Wow, Doug. You're just setting PR's right and left!"

That was friend and fellow Runner's Edge of the Rockies member Kelly commenting on my 1:33:54 finish at the Park to Park this year. And it sure seems that way. Every major race I've run this year (anything over a 10k), I've set a PR. Heck, I set a half-marathon PR in March, and beat that last month!

I'd had a very good feeling about this race for some time. I knew I'd be able to beat my last 10-mile race time, from the Garden of the Gods back in June, if only because I wouldn't be dealing with the altitude or steep climbing! And I felt pretty confident about beating my time from February's Snowman Stampede (which, come to think of it, was a PR--it was, after all, my first 10-mile race!). I'd slept pretty solid on Saturday night and rested for the whole day Sunday, and was ready for a solid Monday morning race, even though I didn't sleep too well Sunday night.

I arrived at the start line on 23rd street ready to go. I saw and chatted with several RER friends and some others, wishing everybody a good race. I'd taken about a half-mile warmup jog down 23rd, so I knew what I was dealing with for the start of the race: yet another downhill first mile! (Maybe that's been my secret...) I'd have to hold back. That's always been my weakness, but I think I'm getting better at it. I covered the first mile along 23rd in 10:12, very close to the 10:00 I'd set for myself.

After turning south onto Race and then back east along 21st, we found ourselves back in City Park proper. Now, I'm not really a fan of running through City Park. I still have bad memories about having been detoured for an extra half mile during the Colfax Marathon in 2007. Fortunately that was not an issue here, as the course had been mapped out by RaceMeasure and laid out that morning by volunteers who knew what they were doing.

(As a side note, there is a disclaimer on the course map, available on the race website: "RaceMeasure has measured the course following USAT&F guidelines, and stands by the certification. However, RaceMeasure does not set out the course on race-day [sic], and is not responsible for courses not set out precisely according to this map." Ha!)

So we ran through City Park, past the statues of Marcus Aurelius and Martin Luther King Jr and then down to 17th. At the end of 3 miles I was sitting at 30:05, right on schedule. For the next 3 I picked up the pace to 9:30. I ran down Elizabeth St, turning west on 11th and heading into Cheeseman Park. The Irish Snug Running Club runs around Cheeseman, so I'm used to that park. But then, I usually run it fresh, not after having covered better than 4 miles. And let me tell you, that makes a difference! The climbs into and out of Cheeseman felt surprisingly steep! Actually, going south on Elizabeth was about the worst of it, just a steady climb for most of that mile. To make matters even worse, the aid station set at the corner of 11th and Elizabeth was out of water! Just when a refreshing mouthful would have been most welcome.

Seeing my dad at the mile 5 mark coming down through Cheeseman was a huge boost, as was the (fully stocked) at station right there. I faced another climb up 9th Ave, and was through the worst of it, hillwise. I saw my dad again at the mile 6 mark (amazingly, he'd covered the distance in record time, but he probably took a shortcut). "See you at the finish!" I called as I ran past, now pushing myself to a 9-minute pace which I knew I could hold for the rest of the race.

At mile 7 the course turned south on Downing. This was familiar territory for me, thanks to Runner's Edge (actually the whole course is familiar--a big chunk of the Denver Marathon covers almost the exact same layout). At the aid station I heard a female voice call out, "Nice job, Doug!" Unfortunately, I was so focused on my running that I'm not entirely sure who it was--I was already moving past by the time my brain registered the fact that I'd heard my name. Whoever it was--I'm sorry! Let me make it up to you by buying you dinner.

Then after one last climb, it was on to Washington Park for the final 2 miles. Coming into the park I could see and hear the excitement and noise coming from the finish line. My dad was there, too, cheering for me. I held on to my pace for mile 9, and opened it up for the last mile. I finished the last mile in 8:30, including a nice strong kick over the last quarter mile. I met up with my dad at the end, and then stayed for a bit to cheer on and chat with some RER friends. Then it was home for a shower and nap--probably the best part of any race day, followed closely by a tall glass of cold chocolate milk. Which, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try to track down...

Georgetown Half Marathon 2008

What makes for a record-setting race?

Is it conditions? Training? The amount of sleep you had the night before? What you had for dinner, what you had for breakfast, when you had your last mouthful of water? When you formulate your race strategy?

When I ran Canyonlands in March, I spent about a week formulating my race strategy. I looked at my last half- marathon time, calculated how much time I wanted to shave off, and wrote and re-wrote my splits per mile until I had a plan that would give me the finishing time I wanted, but not kill me at the start. And I succeeded beyond my expectations. Hoping to shave off about 2 1/2 minutes, I wound up trimming nearly five!

For the Georgetown Half this year, I didn't even think about my race strategy until the day before. I spent a solid hour calculating what my splits needed to be to trim off another 2 1/2 minutes, but then thought I could do even more. I thought, if I started at 11:30 and cut 30 seconds per mile until I got down to 9:00, and held it there until the last mile when I could pour it all out, that would get me in under 2:05:00. It was aggressive but, I felt, achievable. And as a safety net (in case I fell apart in the last 5k), that still gave me a seven-and-a- half minute buffer . So I figured no matter what, I would be able to set a new record. The only question was by how much.

I'd arranged with a few other Runner's Edge of the Rockies members to carpool up (thanks Jim, Lori, and especially Erin for driving!). I met them at the Stegosaurus Lot by the Morrison Geologic Cut off I-70 at 5:30(!) in the morning, and we headed up to Idaho Springs. We grabbed our bib numbers and timing chips and loaded up on the bus to Georgetown.

Up in G-town we connected with the 50 or so other RER'ers who were running the race. You know, probably my favorite part of any Saturday morning when I get to run with the group is those first few minutes when we're all arriving, saying "Hi" and catching up, seeing how far everyone is going that day. This morning was no different-- except that everyone was going the same distance!

After about an hour and a half of exchanging pleasantries, stretching, and killing time, it was Go Time! I inserted myself into the record-setting crowd a good distance back, knowing that I was going to be starting slow and not wanting to be in the way of people starting faster than me. The gun went off and so did we.

As I've said before, one of the hardest things for me to do is hold back in the first few miles of a race, especially when everybody around me is going as fast as they can. This race was no exception, and try as I might I had a tough time holding myself to my 11:30 pace during that first mile as people zipped past me. I'll tell you what helped, though: thinking back to my experience at Canyonlands earlier this year when the exact same thing happened. Sure, people tore past me at the start, but as I increased my speed during the later miles I found myself shooting past those same fast-starters. That image helped me maintain my slower speed.

I picked up the pace for the next mile, and the next, staying true to the splits I'd developed the day before. Before I knew it, I was no longer the passee, I was the passer. I felt strong, my form was good, and my energy seemed endless. At mile 8 I felt like I could start picking up the pace, but decided against it, opting instead to stay true to my schedule and not risk burning out a mile away from the finish.

As I crossed under I-70 in the last full mile I felt a huge sense of triumph. When I'd run this race last year I'd started out too fast (I'll be honest, I was trying to impress a girl), and by the time I'd got to this point I had slowed to a walk. No walking for me this year! I powered up the first hill and coasted to the next (and last). As I crested the top I saw Coach David and a few other RER folks who'd finished cheering me on. "Three hundred meters, Doug," said David. "That's less than one time around the track! Turn 'em over!" I picked up my pace slightly and pushed on past cheering crowds--including another RER group--and to the final turn less than 0.1 miles from the finish. I put on a last burst and crossed the finish line, arms outstretched in triumph. I looked at my final time, and had I had any energy left I would have leapt for joy: 2:04:20! That's 8 minutes and 10 seconds faster than my PR, and better than 13 1/2 minutes faster than my Georgetown time last year!

I'm still kind of in shock. I'm not entirely sure how that happened. All I can say is, I should have no trouble cutting another 4 1/2 minutes off my time at my next half marathon!

Donor Dash 5k 2008

I first ran the Donor Dash in 2006. Since my mother was an organ donor, I feel this is a race I should continue to do. I missed it last year because I was in London (actually we were coming back to the States that day), but ran it this year, joined again by my Dad and sisters Sara and Maggie and brother-in-law Marty.

A new special thing that the Donor Alliance had put in place last year for the race was the Donor Garden. For a small fee you could have a poster made honoring a donor, which would be displayed near the starting line in a very nice presentation. We had one made featuring a very nice picture of my mother and the caption "She pioneered change and donated life." It was a very pretty tribute, but that day it almost didn't happen. The design company that Donor Alliance had contracted to make the signs did not deliver them on time, and when we got there before the race the Garden was set up with signs from last year. All the volunteers and staff were understandably upset (as were we), a little frantic, and apologetic. Luckily, a mere quarter of an hour before the start of the race, the signs did arrive. We got a very nice picture in front of my mom's sign, which I expect will end up in the Christmas letter this year.

The race itself was nearly perfect. Weather was ideal--still cool (but definitely warm by the end). There was a huge crowd, which always makes me feel jazzed when I run. And I had loaded up a new "fast race mix" on my iPod. Unfortunately all these conditions combined to make me forget my cardinal first rule of running a race--start slow and build. I mean, this was only a 5k, and I had warmed up beforehand, so I was feeling pretty strong; but I shot out of the gate at top speed and lost a fair amount of my energy after the first mile. When will I learn?! Still, for all that it was my second-fastest 5k to date (interestingly, my fastest remains my time from this race in 06).

Final time: 25:02

Garden of the Gods 10-mile 2008

For my June race in 2008 I chose the Garden of the Gods 10 Mile in Manitou Springs. One of the main reasons I chose it, to be perfectly honest, was the fact that my younger sister lives in Colorado Springs, so I knew this would be an easy race for her to attend. (I know she felt bad about missing my finish at Greenland in April.) In fact, I would be sure of it because I would spend the night before the race at her place, and have her drive me there raceday morning!

As is quickly becoming my habit, I spent several weeks before the race studying the map of the course, paying particular attention to the elevation changes, to prepare myself for the route. I even watched the Google Maps flyover of the course (man this Internet is nifty!). I put together what I thought was a winning race strategy, much as I had with Canyonlands in March--11 minute miles for the first 2, 10 minute for the next 2, and 9 for the rest. I figured I could hold that pace, even over the steep climbs the first 4 miles promised.

Raceday morning was cloudy and chilly--perfect running conditions but not as great for standing around before the start of a race. I took what I hoped would be an easy warmup mile along the course. When I started to climb steadily before even reaching the quarter mile mark, I realized I would have to reevaluate my race strategy. I tacked on 30 seconds to the first mile and recalculated--I could still PR. I tacked on a minute--still good. In fact I realized I could add on as much as seven minutes and still set a PR. So I figured, 12, 12, 11 1/2, 11, 10 1/2, 10, 9, 9, 9, and 9. No problem. I was fueled up, I had a good idea of where the aid stations would be, I had gel packs, and of course adrenaline. Oh, if only I'd known.....

Spirits were high at the starting area, even when the race director announced that, due to unanticipated volume, the race would be starting 15 minutes late (looooong lines at the portajohns). My sister took a couple of nice pictures of me and wished me luck, and then finally the starting gun was fired.

Oh, I'm sorry, did I say "starting gun"? Yeah, I meant starting cannon. Yeah, cannon. That was a bit of a surprise for me. Pretty cool, though.

I started out nice and easy, keeping myself to my (newly revised) starting pace. That actually was easier than it has been in the past--the steep hills forced me to slow down, I had very little choice in the matter. In fact, I soon found that my goals of accelerating over the next few miles turned, one by one, into pipe dreams. By mile 3 I had revised my race strategy to "just keep running, try not to walk too much." Granted, the aid stations helped--partly because I could refuel, partly because they were manned by high school students. Not wanting to look like a wheezing old man in front of a bunch of kids is a surprisingly good motivator. I wonder if that makes me shallow.....

Another good motivator was at about mile 3, when I saw the first finishers coming back (mile 7 for them). Man those guys were fast! How can you not pick up your own stride when you see something like that?

The steepest climb was just at about mile 4.5, heading up to the highest point (appropriately enough, the aid station at that point was "Heaven"). Then the course turned onto a concrete path going through the Garden of the Gods park. I'd never been through there before. It's quite lovely, with beautiful rock formations and natural serenity. I'd be interested in going back at some point, to actually look at things. I was rather focused on running this time.

Coming out of the park we rejoined the road. The good news was, it was all downhill from here, relatively speaking of course. At least, the steep climb to "Heaven" was behind me, and I figured I could handle any upcoming hills, as I had already dealt with them (albeit going the other way). That is a nice thing about these kind of out-and-back courses--what goes up (in one direction) must come down (in the other). I was feeling pretty good in a "the worst is over" kind of way, so I started to open things up a little for mile 6, 7, and 8.

(The course, by the way, isn't strictly an out-and-back. It diverts from itself at a couple of points, so there are about 2 1/4 miles of one-way traffic.)

As I hit the last two miles I was feeling quite strong and increased my pace a little more, as I had been doing over the last few miles. I was no longer thinking about getting a PR (as I said before, I'd long since abandoned that idea), but was determined to make a strong showing nevertheless. When I hit mile 9 I picked it up even more. When I was about 1/4 mile away from the finish I could hear the crowd and even see the banners off to the left, and that spurred me on to a solid finishing kick. Raising my arms triumphantly as I crossed the line, hearing my name over the PA, I felt satisfied that I had run a solid race on a much more difficult than I had anticipated course. Now I know what to expect for next year.

Final time: 1:48:02.

Bolder BOULDER 10k 2008

Parking in Boulder on Memorial Day is always nearly impossible, but so far I've been very lucky and managed to get someone else to do the driving. This year was no exception. I took the Miller Lite Bus up to Boulder with my friends from the Irish Snug Runners Club. There was plenty of food and drink on the bus (including free beer for after the race!), so I topped off my tank with some water and a banana. I was ready for a solid race this year.

After a quick warmup jog and stretch, I was ready to begin. Slowly the line moved forward until my wave--EE--was at the start. The gun fired, and I was off! As usual I zoomed out too quickly, setting a pace that I wouldn't hold for the rest of the race. Unfortunately I had no idea exactly how fast I was going, since my Garmin chose that morning to crap out on me ("Batteries dead? How is that possible? I charged it yesterday! Aargh..."). Oh well. Nothing wrong with running by feel. And, although the rest of my miles were slower than the first, all of them were sub-10 minute pace.

My final time this year was 55:27, making this my second-fastest (to date) 10K race.

Nashville Country Music Marathon 2008 (part 2)

I set my alarm and wake up call for 4 am, knowing I'd have to make to from the Alexis Inn to the Radisson Hotel (1.6 miles away) by 5:30 to catch the shuttle to the start line. I'd intended to walk there, but scrapped that idea when I saw it was raining. I caught a shuttle instead.
The bus had us at the start line by 6 am. I made my way to my starting corral, and took refuge from the rain inside a nearby McDonalds along with 400 other runners. It was probably the largest crowd that particular establishment had ever seen, and probably the biggest non-purchasing crowd in the history of McDonalds.

Fortunately, the rain stopped just as the race started. We inched our way forward, all 30,000 of us. I finally broke the starting line about 7:30, and I was off.

I held myself back to a 12-minute pace for the first mile--at least, I tried to. The problem was, the air in Nashville is so thick it makes 10 minute pace feel like a 12 minute effort. I really had to focus on keeping the first few miles deliberately slow. I was relatively successful in this, and after I hit the 5k split decided it was time to open it up a bit and settled into a comfortable 10:10 pace.
Things went well for the next 13 miles. The quote-unquote "hils" (remember, I'm from Colorado. We eat bunny slopes for breakfast) kept the course interesting, forcing me to adjust my speed to compensate. The course started off running through downtown Nashville before angling south through a very nice residential area. Then it was back north and through downtown again before continuing on to a campus on the Cumberland River. I was doing well and feeling strong, reaching the halfway point at about 2:15:00, right on track for a 4:30 finish.

At about mile 16 the sun came out. Unfortunately, things began to fall apart from there. I'm not sure why, but it started with some intestinal issues that forced me to make an unscheduled stop at a porta potty. After about mile 18 I lost my zone and had some difficulty finding it again, so for the next six miles I struggled and walked. A fair amount.

At mile 23 I stopped at a medical tent and got some salt (for electrolytes) and Tylenol (for pain). With that I was able to resume at a shuffling jog. When the pills finally kicked in with about 2 1/4 miles to go, I was able to slowly pick up the pace. As I pulled out of the area east of Shelby park (an area which was the ghetto-iest portion of the whole course), I could see the lights around LP Field, less than a mile distant. Newly (and thankfully) energized, I managed to push on to a strong finish. My final time: 4:56:13, a new PR!

Click here to see some pictures from the race.

Nashville Country Music Marathon 2008 (part 1)

My flight out to Nashville for my third marathon was on Thursday April 24. It was a pretty full flight, and somehow I wound up with a window seat. Which wasn't right; I'm certain I'd asked for an aisle.

I felt good about the trip, though. I'd trained hard and prepared well. I double and triple checked my baggage before leaving, and had everything I'd need: trademark Superman jersey and blue shorts, Runner's Edge socks, shoes, Garmin GPS, sunglasses, hat, gloves (just in case) and iPod loaded up with the Star Wars audio drama. I had the good wishes of all my family, friends, and coworkers. Yep, it was going to be a great race weekend.

After an uneventful but cramped flight, I had little difficulty in securing a cab. However, the cab had considerable difficulty in finding my hotel! To begin with, he had no idea where it was. However, when he used his onboard GPS to find it (what an age we live in!), he missed a turn on the highway and wound up getting completely lost! Thank god I'd taken the time to print out several maps. By giving him another nearby hotel with which, mercifully, he was familiar, I was able to get the result I desired--namely, arriving safely at my hotel. Thankfully he didn't charge me for the extra half hour the trip took.

I'd been scheduled to do one last 2-mile run on Thursday, and had originally planned on doing it in Aurora before flying to Tennessee; but something my boss said on Wednesday had got me thinking it might be a good idea to run it out in Nashville (in fact, I believe his exact words were, "Don't you think it might be a good idea to run it out in Nashville?"). So I did. I had two observations after doing so: 1)Man, is there ever a lot of air out here, and 2)don't these people believe in sidewalks? Fortunately there wasn't much traffic; and what little there was, was very obliging.

I finished the run oddly drenched in sweat (it was kind of humid) but feeling like I'd only run one mile. As if I'd needed more convincing that Saturday was going to be a great run.

On Friday after a solid night's sleep I went to the expo. It was very well organized, and very well run. I got through the lines and picked up my bib, timing chip, t-shirt, and goody bag with no troube, then spent some time exploring before sitting in on two of the clinics. The first, hosted by John "The Penguin" Bingham, focused on having a good mental attitude and parlaying that into a successful marathon. The second, from his wife Coach Jenny Hadfield, addressed strategies for dealing with the "hills" on the course, as well as some pre- and post-race tips. Both clinics were informative, relaxed, and very enjoyable. Actually both clinics touched on a wide range of subjects, including fueling, hydration, pacing, effort, and the mother of all racing taboos: trying something new on race day. Later, I had the opportunity to meet Olympic medalist and Bolder BOULDER founder Frank Shorter, who autographed my Country Music Marathon jersey.

Next: marathon day!

Greenland Trail Race 8-mile 2008

The Greenland Trail is a very pretty 8 mile loop trail in Larkspur, Colorado. The Greenland Trail Race can be run as either an 8 mile, 25k (16 mile), or 50k (32 mile) course. Since my spring marathon was a week after this race, I opted to run the 8 mile course (one loop around the trail).
Conditions for this race this year were perfect (unlike last year). The sun was shining, the sky was cloudless, and since it was 7:00 on a Saturday morning in April, it was nice and cool. Fortunately the big snow that hit on Wednesday was completely melted away in all but the shadiest of spots on the trail. Unfortunately that meant that there were stretches of the trail which were pretty muddy and slippery, but the vast majority of the course was fairly dry.
The trail starts at just under 7000 feet elevation, and climbs at a fairly steady rate for the first five miles to its highest point, just under 7400 feet, before starting a steady drop down for the last three miles. I started out pretty conservatively, keeping myself around an 11 minute mile for the first three miles. But the middle two, which had the steepest climbs in the course, dropped me down to 12 minute pace. Fortunately I was more than able to make up the time by increasing to sub-9:30 pace for the next two miles, and 8:21 for the last!

And of course, I had the pleasure of seeing so many of my fellow Runner's Edge of the Rockies members at the race (Coach David builds the race into our training schedules), and my younger sister Sara who met me at the finish.

Canyonlands Half Marathon 2008

I drove down to Moab Utah for the 33rd Annual Canyonlands Half Marathon with friend and fellow Runner’s Edge of the Rockies member Holly in March 2008 (actually she drove; I co-piloted). The drive down was lots of fun, as Holly and I talked about friends, family, running, race strategy, and more. We got into town at about 7 pm, then went straight to the Expo to pick up our packets, shirts, and timing chips. Then it was off to the prerace pasta dinner. Even though it was late—about a quarter to 8, and the dinner was scheduled to end at 8:30—there was still plenty of food which we proceeded to put away heartily. Have to fuel up for tomorrow’s run!

At the Expo we connected with Monica and Anna, who had graciously agreed to put me up for the night (and Holly, as it transpired). At the hotel, we talked and joked for a while, then it was time for bed. We set our alarms for 6 am, planning to leave our hotel and head for the finish line/ bus pickup at 7. I had a slight case of night- before-a-race jitters, but these are very similar to opening-night jitters which I flatter myself I’ve gotten pretty good at tuning out. That, coupled with the fact that I’d been sitting in a car for five hours straight, led to a fairly solid night’s sleep.

The next morning was overcast but not chilly—at least in town. We walked down to the bus staging area and connected with most of the rest of the Runner’s Edge contingent—Rose, Wendy, Laura, Michelle, and Al. Then it was time to take the bus to the starting area. Since this is an invitation-only race, we couldn’t even get on the bus without showing them our race bibs. The drive up through the canyon was great fun. The canyon itself is beautiful —layers of multicolored rock and sandstone, 50 million years of history. The Colorado River ran beside us. It was tough for me to imagine, looking at that relaxed, lazy river, that millions of years ago it had been a raging engine of destruction, carving the canyon through which we were driving.

Unfortunately, the sky was not clearing up, and when we reached the bus drop off point it was much chillier than it had been in town. Worse, the race didn’t start for another 2 hours! I huddled with Laura, Rose, Wendy, and Michelle, talking and killing time waiting for 10:00 to arrive. At about 9:30 we made our way towards the starting line—which was a solid quarter mile uphill from where we’d been dropped off! Well, at least we got a bit of a warmup before the race!

Once at the start, we made our way through the pack to find our pace groups. I’d determined early on that I was going to hold myself to an 11 minute per mile pace for the first 6 miles of the race, which meant that I started pretty far back in the group (as a matter of fact, there was no 11-minute pace sign, so I just put myself about two- thirds of the way back with the 10-minute-milers). A few last minute stretches, a review of my race strategy (11 minute miles for the first 6, 10 minute miles for the next 6, and pick it up for the last 1.1), and I was ready for the race to start. The crowd was excited—I could feel the energy from the runners around me, 4800 strong.
The race started on time. Since I was so far towards the back of the pack, it took me about five minutes to make it to the actual starting line. Once there I was off. I had to remind myself to hold back and keep to my 11 minute pace, which was tricky as a)it was a steep downhill grade, dropping almost 100 feet in the first mile, and b)a lot of other runners were passing me. But I stuck to my plan as I ran through the Chinle Formation of the canyon, keeping myself between 10:30 and 11:00 per mile for the first six miles, and drinking Gatorade or water at each aid station. As I ran through the canyon, I noticed that not only did I have course mile markers telling me how far I’d come, but also highway mile markers telling me how far I had to go to get out of the canyon!

As I reached the 6.5 mile mark (now upping my pace to between 9:30 and 10:00 per mile) I started the first steep climbing section. Of course that’s relative: for the next mile the course lifted less than 50 feet! I concentrated on hill strategies I’d learned from my Runner’s Edge training (thanks, David!), and on the beauty of the canyon surrounding me. This was the Kayenta Formation, wetter and greener than the area I’d just run through.

After that brief climb, the course dipped again as I approached the 8 mile mark holding a steady 9:30 pace. This was faster than I’d planned for but with 5 miles to I was feeling pretty strong and wasn’t too worried about opening up a little. More than that, I’d been consistently passing runners for the last 2 miles—including many I recognized as runners who had shot past me at the start! Just after the 8 mile mark (0.1 miles, to be exact) was the start of the 5 mile run. Now, in addition to the half marathon course mile markers and the highway mile markers, was another set of signs telling me how far I had to go.

The first half of mile 9 was another sharp but short uphill, followed by a steep descent for the next three quarters of a mile, taking us to the lowest point on the course—just under 4000 feet! Running through Navajo Sandstone and back through the Kayenta and Chinle Formation, I climbed out of the canyon and turned onto the highway. This was interesting. We were restricted to the shoulder of Highway 191, which was still open to traffic, although coned off and restricted to one slow driving lane. This meant that I had to deal with trying to pass runners in front of me on a narrow shoulder and avoiding being creamed by semis and other vehicles.

Thankfully, at mile 12, the course turned off Highway 191 and onto 500 West. I increased my pace to sub-9 minute miles for this last mile, and turned onto 400 North. There, in the distance, I could see the finish line, and spectators cheering on either side of the street. As I ran down that last four-tenths of a mile, I increased my pace to a strong finishing kick. As I ran past the crowds, people cheered for me: “Go, Superman!” I saw Holly, who had finished long before me, as I drew close to the end. Close to the finish line I heard one small voice, who had evidently heard the cheers further down the line, say “Look! It IS Superman!”

After the race I connected with Laura, Wendy, Rose, Michelle, Holly, and Monica and her friend Anna. Comparing notes, we determined that nearly everybody had set a new PR on this course (and it was Anna’s first half marathon ever)! We were all pretty excited about that. After a round of congratulations, we went back to our respective hotels to shower and rest. Holly, Monica, Anna and I went out for some food and drinks (because a PR like that deserves a beer), then drove up to Arches National Park for some sightseeing before Holly and I hit the road back to Denver.

Oh, I almost forgot. I PR’d at the Georgetown Half Marathon in 2007 with 2 hours, 17 minutes, and 56 seconds. For Canyonlands, I planned to break 2:15:00, and developed my strategy accordingly. My official chip time: 2:12:30, a new PR!

Click here to see my pictures from the trip.

Snowman Stampede 10-mile 2008

For my February race this year I ran the Snowman Stampede 10 Mile, the last event in the Winter Distance Series put on by Colorado Runner. This race, which I had never run before, was at Cherry Creek State Park. It was a beautiful, sunny and warm day, lucky for late February.

As usual, I started out more aggressively than I should have. I found myself "pacing" two guys who were running the 20 mile event. They would run for 3 minutes, then walk for 1. As a result we spent almost the entire time leap- frogging each other, jokingly saying "Tag" each time.

I started to burn out around mile 6 and had to adjust my pace to about 10:30. This wasn't too bad; I still finished the race within 10 minutes of my goal time.

Oh yeah,and Colorado Runner got this really awesome picture of me out on the course which they published in the May/June 2008 issue!

Frosty's Frozen 5-mile 2008

My first race for 2008 was the Frosty's Frozen Five (as in miles) at Chatfield Reservoir on January 20. It also marked my longest run of the year (to date, but then the year was only three weeks old at that point).

It had snowed the day before, but Saturday (according to the national weather guessers) promised to be sunny. Nevertheless, it was bitterly cold when I awoke and headed out to the Reservoir, wanting to be there by 9 am to pick up my bib number and timing chip (the race was set to start at 10). Cold as it was, though, a quick half-mile warmup jog followed by some gentle stretching got my circulation flowing comfortably.

(As it turned, out, it was a good thing that I'd preregistered and showed up early to pick up my stuff. Apparently the event had oversold--they'd been expecting a hundred or so runners and had more than twice that! They were running out of tshirts by a quarter to ten.)

Not wanting to injure myself or wear myself out quickly, I set myself up towards the middle of the pack at the start. I told myself I'd run the first mile in 10 minutes, and pick up my speed for the last four. I was hoping to finish somewhere between 45 and 50 minutes (a 9- to 10-minute per mile pace, for those of you who suck at math). Admittedly, that was hard to stick to during the first mile--I had to fight the "urge to surge" (as in ahead) and burn up all my energy. That's been my cheif problem with all my races, and one of my goals this year is to get over it.

Cold as it had been before the race, once it started I warmed right up. Not only was my heart pumping at a good clip, but the sun had risen above some early morning clouds and was doing a pretty good job of bringing the temps up to somewhere in the mid-to-upper 30s (which only someone from Colorado could consider "warmish," I suppose).

The first half of the run was on the main road in the Reservoir, which meant that apart from a very few icy patches which I was able to avoid, it was completely dry. At the halfway point the course turned onto the trail, which wasn't quite as clean. The snowpack and icy patches (particularly along a narrow bridge in the third mile) made the back half slightly slower than the front. Even the finishing area was slightly icy, which called for some caution approaching the line. But for all of that I had a good finishing kick, and came in just under 48 minutes.

Special props go to my Dad, who braved the early morning chill to come out, hang out with me at the start, cheer for me at the finish, take some pictures, and buy me breakfast afterwards!

Kansas City Marathon Relay 2007

Runner's Edge of the Rockies went to Kansas City as a group race in October 2007. A bunch of members signed up to run the full Marathon, and several more the Half. Since I had run a full marathon only six days before, I opted to go with a leg of the relay. Fortunately I was able to get connected with a team who was one man short.

Coach David rented a charter bus and about 30 of us hit the road early Thursday morning to drive all day into KC. We stopped off at a place called Rim Rock Farm for a quick 5k taper run, which was very enjoyable--nice and relaxed.

We got into town late that evening, about 7:30 or so, and checked into our hotel. Most of us were at the Hyatt, a few at the nearby Westin. After getting settled in and showered, we went to Manny's for some dinner on the recommendation of the concierge of the Westin (which is where I stayed). That was a bit of a trip--walking into the restaurant and saying "Hi, can you accommodate a party of 30?" To their credit, they did a great job of setting a giant table for us.
Friday was a day for relaxing. We went to the Expo to pick up our bags (I got the bags for the other 3 members of my relay team), then some of us took a bus tour of the marathon course hosted by Coach Eladio of the (original) Kansas City Runner's Edge. That was great for me, since it was the only way I had to see the rest of the course after my leg of the relay.

The pasta dinner Friday night was excellent. The food was great, and we even had live entertainment--a lounge lizard singing Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennet and Bobby Darin. He noticed me singing along and, during "New York New York," came over to the table and asked me to sing with him--his mistake. I commandeered the microphone and belted out a lusty finale to the song, to the delight of the Runner's Edge crew. I sure hope they got some good pictures...

Race morning was beautiful, a huge improvement over Denver the previous weekend. A clear sky, nice and cool (actually we started at 7 am, before the sun rose. We ran the first two miles in the dark!). It didn't even start to get warm until almost everybody was finished with the race.
My relay leg was 6.4 miles. I knew I could do it in 65 minutes. I hoped to finish sub-60. I actually ran it in 56:30. That made me very happy.

Then it was on to Jack Stack Barbecue for dinner, followed by a few final drinks before hitting the road late Saturday and driving all through the night to get back to town at about 7:30 Sunday morning--right in the middle of a snowstorm!

Coach says we might do another road trip next year. Sign me up!

Denver Marathon 2007

When I ran the Denver Half Marathon in 2006 it was a lovely cool autumn morning. The sun was shining in a clear sky, and even though I wasn't feeling 100% I was enjoying the experience.
In the days leading up to the Denver Marathon in 2007 the weather was very promising--clear skies and warm temps.

The day of the Marathon, however, was anything but. Ya gotta love Colorado: drizzly rain, temps in the upper 30's to low 40's the entire time. But I wasn't too discouraged to start; I figured I could run through it, no problem. I'd run in worse, or at least as bad.

I can say with pride that I made it more than halfway--16 miles out before I really started to hurt. But at that point I had to stop running. Not wanting to crap out, I walked the last 10 miles of the course, with a few bursts of slow jogging, and a final kick for the last 2 blocks. I was glad to be finished.

Fans on the Field 10k 2007

I had a lot of fun at this race. It started on the east side of Mile High Stadium (I will never call it Invesco Field, dammit, it's Mile High!) and ran over to LoDo, then into Coors Field for an out-and-back into the stadium along the third base line! Digger was there slapping fives as I came in.

Then it was out of the baseball stadium and around and through the Pepsi Center, home of the Nuggets, Mammoth, and Avalanche! Fortunately that stadium was set up for lacrosse games, not hockey, or else that could have been very embarassing. Not to mention painful.

Once clear of the Pepsi Center, we ran back towards Mile High, taking a route that passed along next to (as it then was) Six Flags Elitch Gardens (Six Flags has since sold it). Then back along the Raging Platte River to the east side of Mile High again, then along outside that stadium to the North entrance, and through and across (but, sadly, not across the pristine grass; we were on the east sideline). I could see myself on the giant jumbotron coming down the lane, which was pretty cool. Then it was out the South entrance, a quick turn to the right, and across the finish line!

This was a very enjoyable 10K, and the end to a very busy and rewarding weekend, topping off a truly remarkeable week. I'll run this race again, and do better than 60:53!

Blue Planet Run 10-mile 2007

Late one night in August I drove up to Arapahoe Basin ski resort with the intention of meeting some friends for a ten mile run. My projected start time was 1:30 AM.

I had signed up to be a pace runner for one ten mile segment of the Blue Planet Run, an event which saw 20 athletes running literally around the world. Runner's Edge of the Rockies had gotten wind of this through one of its members, Ned, who was associated with a group sponsoring the event. He told Coach David, who told the rest of us, who were all pretty excited about the idea.

I met up with the BPR folks in A-Basin, where Runner's Edge member Catherine was scheduled to start her leg-- before mine, which would start at Bakerville, ten miles east (and downhill). As Catherine started off with her BPRunner, the rest of us drove up Loveland Pass and waited at the summit for a quick photo op. Then it was down the hill to await my turn.

I didn't have to wait long. All too soon the pacing van pulled into sight just behind the BPRunner, and I was off with my partner, Lansing. We talked the entire run, sharing life stories and discovering a mutual appreciation for musical theatre--which led to some rowdy singing during the last two miles!

After my segment, Runner's Edge member Nason took off. I volunteered to drive him back to his car, and after that it was home to bed. At 5 am, I finally made it back to the comfort of my bed. What a night!

Georgetown Half Marathon 2007

As a training race for the summer session, my running group Runner's Edge of the Rockies ran the Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half Marathon in August. This was a fun little race. It was freezing cold at the start, but once we got going (and out of the shade) it warmed up considerably.

I tried to take my time on this one, wanting to stay fresh and injury free (I'd sprained my ankle in June and had been trying to take things easy while I recovered). It's a downhill course, which is harder on the knees than uphill, so I was definitely taking care and taking my time. But I had a nice strong finishing sprint at the end, and then hung out with the rest of Runner's Edge for a while at the party.

Oh, yeah, my finishing time? Two hours, 17 minutes, 46 seconds. Almost a half hour faster than Denver in '06.

London Chest Hospital 10k 2007

In May 2007 I finally had a chance to visit the United Kingdom on vacation, along with my dad and younger sister.

Before we left I determined that I would find an organized race in the country while we were there, because a)I was training for my next marathon and b)how cool would that be? Little did I imagine how popular the sport is over there. According to the Runner's World UK website, there were some 80+ organized races in the country during the nine days I would be there. Of those, 30-some were at least a 10K and within 100 miles of central London.

I finally settled on a 10K in the little village of Hackney, about 20 minutes' drive from central London. I went with this race for two reasons: there was a 3K fun run that I knew I could sign my father and sister up for, and every finisher got a medal--practically unheard-of for anything less than a half marathon.

(Okay, so the finisher medal is a plastic job, but it's still pretty cool.)

Anyway, the race was through this very pretty park called Victoria Park. It was a pretty small event (compared with major city races; there were still a few hundred runners), and everyone I spoke with was curious to know how I found out about their race. My dad and sister ran the 3K and made pretty decent time, and I finished the 10K in 57:47, beating my BolderBOULDER time for this year.

I have lots of great memories of my trip, but the race is definitely in the top 3.

Bolder BOULDER 10k 2007

In 2007: Sub-50.

That was how I ended my essay on last year's BolderBOULDER. I had run a PR of 53:31, and since that had been nearly ten minutes faster than my 2005 time, I figured shaving three minutes off would be cake.

Then, I ran my first full marathon exactly eight days before this world-famous 10K.

I deliberately held myself back. I started with my qualifying wave, up towards the front of the pack, surrounded by sub-8:30 milers. But I figured I had nothing to prove to anybody. I'd run 26.8 miles the week before (yes, you read that right, more than a full marathon. Check out my essay on the Colfax Marathon 2007 for details). I was running for free this year (the BB comped my entry because of some confusion following the Colder BOULDER last December). And the last thing I wanted or needed to do was run so hard and fast that I'd end up injuring myself prior to starting training for my next marathon.

So I tried to hold back as much as I could. I ran what I thought was a very relaxed, slow pace, and walked-- slowly--through all the aid stations. And I still finished in 59:24.

Colorado Colfax Marathon 2007

I completed my first full marathon on Sunday, May 20, 2007.

It's hard to put into words just how much that means. If you've ever run a full marathon, you understand. They say you always remember what your first was like. I know there was a lot of blood, sweat, and tears involved in getting me ready to face this challenge. If you've ever been there, I'm sure you can relate.

I trained very hard to run this, and wouldn't have succeeded without the help and support of the coach and members of Runner's Edge of the Rockies, a Denver-based running group. The training, advice, positive feedback, and good feelings from everyone in the group really helped me keep up and serious with my training.

Some highlights of the run: The huge crowd at about mile 8, in Olde Town Aurora, with people cheering and playing music, and everyone screaming for me as I went past. Seeing my sisters and brother-in-law (and his parents) at about mile 11, holding up signs they had made the night before, encouraging me on. Running through City Park at the halfway point (which I'm convinced was mismarked and added a solid extra half mile to the marathon). Making the mistake at mile 16 of dumping water on my face, causing me to accidentally swallow a fair amount of sweat runoff which made the next two miles very difficult indeed. Being surprised by my siblings at Sloan's Lake, about mile 18, and hearing my baby sister playing "Fight On" on her trumpet (she's at the University of Southern California). Seeing them again at Rockley Music, about mile 22.5. The dunk station at mile 23, where ice-cold sponges were handed to runners by fellow members of Runner's Edge of the Rockies (and thanks to Michael for running alongside me for a couple hundred meters). Seeing (and hearing) my sibs again coming up on the last corner, 0.2 miles away from the finish. Pouring on the speed for the last 50 feet, hearing the announcer call my name and the crowd responding, and crossing the finish line.

I completed my first full marathon on Sunday, May 20, 2007, and I'm already planning my next one.

(post script: It turns out the marathon was actually longer than 26.2 miles. Although it had been mapped and measured correctly, when it came times to set up the cones to guide runners through City Park, someone screwed up the course, making runners veer right when they should have veered left and adding on a solid extra half-mile. If I weren't such a nice guy, and if I weren't sure that those responsible were volunteers, I'd say I hope somebody lost their job over that.)

Donor Dash 5k 2006

I saw a flier for this 5K run/walk at my gym. Since my mother had been an organ donor, I felt it would be a good thing to do, and I got my Dad, my sister Sara, and my sister Maggie and her husband Marty to join me. We had a lot of fun, and I finished in 24 minutes 19 seconds, which is an average 7:50-minute mile. Not bad, if I do say so myself. And it was for a good cause and a wonderful tribute to my Mom.

Greenland Trail Race 25k 2007

As part of my training for the Colfax Marathon in 2007, I ran in the Greenland Trail Race in April. The 16-mile version of the race had been built into my training schedule by my coach at Runner's Edge of the Rockies (actually, he'd built it into everyone's schedules as a group race).

Springtime in Colorado being what it is, it had snowed a couple of days before the race, and at the start the course was covered in the white stuff and the temperature was a mind- (and body-)numbing 17 degrees Fahrenheit! Which wouldn't necessarily have been a problem--I could've run all 16 miles in that temperature and been fine-- except that it was a beautifully sunny day, without a cloud in the sky. By the time I'd finished my first 8-mile loop, the sun had been shining consistently, the temperature had creeped up to above freezing, and the snow had almost entirely melted off the trail, turning it into mud. That was less enjoyable to run through. I can't imagine the folks who were going 32 miles!

This was a tough race. It started at a pretty high elevation to begin with (just under 7,000 feet), and had a climb of an additional 400 or so. Still, I finished in 3:17:32, and I'm happy with that.

Denver Half Marathon 2006

Two thousand six saw the birth of the Denver Marathon, so I signed up to run the half.

Unfortunately, I caught a nast cold at the beginning of October, two weeks before the Marathon, which severely curtailed by training schedule and ability. Nevertheless, on race day I roused myself up and headed downtown to run (luckily I was feeling much better).

I finished the 13.1 mile course in 2 hours, 44 minutes, and 12 seconds--an average 12:33 minute mile, but I'd been sick so I'm not too upset about it.

Bolder BOULDER 10k 2006

If it's Memorial Day in Colorado, that must mean it's time for the BolderBOULDER 10K race! I ran this for the first time in 2005, because my best friend, who's been running it for several years now, talked me into it. In 2005 I finished with a very respectable time of 1:02:04, just four seconds shy of the cutoff point for the 24 qualifying waves (actually I finished in 1:02:02, according to my watch).

I figured, what with all the training and carrying my own water (rather than getting drinks at the aid stations along the course), I'd finish a bit faster this year than the last. Certainly under 62 minutes; I was shooting for sub-60. I ran a practice in 55:38, so I figured I'd finish in about 57 minutes (allowing for crowd slowage-- several tens of thousands of people run this thing!).

My final time, according to my watch: 53:31! Almost 10 minutes shaved off and an average 8:38-minute mile! I didn't just beat my previous time, I spanked it like a baby and sent it cryin' home to its momma!

Welcome

Hello! Thanks for coming to visit. After being impressed with how well some of my friends' personal blogs have turned out, I decided to move all of mine from my own website to here. This means a lot less work for me in terms of updating and editing my website every time I add a new post. It also means that you, my friends and other visitors, can leave comments on my posts, which isn't possible on my own website (because I haven't taken the time to figure out how to do that yet). The only weakness I can see with this is that I can't also include pictures; but maybe I'll figure that out. In the meantime, pictures are available on my website and my Facebook page.

I like to run. A lot. A lot a lot. Which is kind of surprising to me, given how unathletic I was since high school (I was on the soccer team for about 5 minutes as a freshman; the track team for about half that as a sophomore). So most of what you'll find here will be essays about my various races, since that's really the most exciting thing I do these days. But who knows, some other adventures may be determined blog-worthy. I guess we'll just have to see.

Thanks for visiting!