Resolutions

As January 1, 2010, looms ever more nigh (less than 30 hours as of this writing), the thoughts of many turn towards New Years Resolutions. I am no exception to this, as earlier this evening I found myself pondering what my resolutions will be for the upcoming year. For 2008 I resolved to run a race every month, and I achieved that goal plus one more. For 2009 my goal was to run a 5k race each month in addition to my other races. For most of the year that averaged out to 2 races a month. Some of these were what I have called "traditional" races that I have run in years past (Bolder Boulder, Garden of the Gods, Donor Dash). Some of them were one-time "bucket list" type races (Wild West Relay, Zooma Women's Half). Some were new races that I'll gladly add to my "traditional" list and run again and again (Mile High Mile, Parkinson's Awareness). And, were it not for an extended period of unemployment (in the sense of not having a permanent position; I did a lot of contract work in the summer and fall), I would have easily hit my goal. It was only limited finances that forced me to skip my October, November, and December 5ks, and so I consider my goal for 2009 to have been met in spirit, if not in actual fact.

And so I find myself wondering what running goal(s) I should set for 2010. Part of me thinks that the next logical step would be to aim for an even higher number of races (like 25, since I ran 20 races in 2009), or a bigger distance benchmark (a 10k every month). But as my coach has occasionally chided me, too much shorter distance racing could potentially lead to injury and sideline me from what I acknowledge to be my major goal: 50 marathons in 50 states by my 50th birthday. This, by the way, is a surprisingly tight time schedule for me: I have just over 16 years to run 43 more marathons. In both 2008 and 2009 I ran 3 marathons, which meant that I was essentially training all year with very little down time between. I'm not sure I could squeeze more marathons into my calendar year without some negative effects, physically or psychologically.

What then should be the focus, if not quantity? The answer seems obvious at this point: quality. Not to run more races, but to run them better. On the one hand, this solves the problem that I had in 2009 which resulted in the St George Marathon being my last race for that year: less races means less money spent. On the other, it poses a very real challenge for me: In addition to posting a record number of races in 2009, I improved my performance and set a new personal record in every distance I ran, from the 5k through to the marathon. I even set and then re-set my marathon record. And most of those PRs were by considerable margins. It will take a lot of effort to beat some of those times.

I believe, however, that this is a reasonable goal. Yes, I had a lot of improvement in 2009. I am a much faster and stronger runner than I was in 2008. But I know I have not yet reached the limits of my potential. Through my association with my training group and friends Runner's Edge of the Rockies, I have acccess to a wealth of training resources which can help me further explore those limits. I took advantage of some of those resources during 2009. If I continue to do so in 2010, and expand upon that with a view towards improving quality rather than quantity, then I believe I will continue to see improvement.

So, For 2010, I Resolve to Set a New PR in Every Distance I Run--the Mile, 5k, 4 Mile, 5 Mile, 10k, 10 Mile, Half Marathon, and Marathon. This is a good goal. To beat my current records in these distances will require focus and a concerted effort.

"But Doug," I can hear some of you say, "You've improved so much in 2009, you'll be able to reach this goal easily. Maybe even more than once. I thought you said you wanted a challenge!" I did, and I do. And I believe that setting new PRs in these distances will be a challenge. While it's true that I saw a huge improvement in my marathon times in both OKC and St George, I believe I won't see the kind of continued improvement I want without changing something up in my training. Even my smaller distance PRs like that Mile and 5k were only met by giving everything I had. I don't believe it will be easy to improve on those times even just a little. However, never let it be said that I don't have lofty goals. So, I present the following table, listing my current PRs and the records I'd like to set this year:

Distance	Existing PR	Ideal PR
Mile	0:6:31	0:6:00
5k	0:22:59	0:20:59
4 Mile	0:31:48	0:29:59
5 Mile	0:48:17	0:40:00
10k	0:51:42	0:49:59
10 Mile	1:32:12	1:29:59
Half Marathon	1:56:21	1:49:59
Marathon	4:25:34	4:07:59

(Please note that failure to meet an Ideal PR will not mean failure to complete my goal. A PR is a PR. But you can bet your ass I'm going to try my hardest to hit all those times in that third column.)

I'm going to set one more Resolution for 2010. For the past 2 years I've talked and talked about my desire to branch out into a new racing experience and complete a Triathlon. And for the last 2 years I've always found some excuse to avoid it. Enough is enough.

So, For 2010, I Resolve to Complete A Triathlon. After all, all the cool kids are doing it.

Friends, what do you think? Am I setting my bar too low? Or too high?

St George Marathon 2009

What a trip! What an experience! What a race! What a weekend!

I flew in to Las Vegas airport on Thursday and met up with a pretty sizeable Runner's Edge of the Rockies contingent, including Coach David, Julie, Karen, Jim, Steve K, Kathy, Jen, Stevie Mac, and Kari. ("Actually I got there ahead of everyone and killed a lot of time in the airport playing slots and watching the ads for shows like Bette Midler, Cher, and Carrot Top." "Carrot Top? Seriously? Somebody advertised that they had Carrot Top appearing at their hotel?") We loaded ourselves up into a couple of rental vans and drove through some beautiful desert country and some amazing canyons to our hotel in St George Utah, conveniently located walking distance from the convention center where the Expo would be, and only a couple of miles away from the finish line-slash-bus loading area for race day morning.

We were all very excited about the weekend and the promise of a fantastic race. A video course tour had been making the rounds via email and Facebook, and we'd all watched and joked about how easy it looked. ("And how fast, considering the driver was going 60 and the video was sped up." "If only you could run it that fast, right?")

Thursday night we had dinner at a sports bar a block away from the hotel. ("Of course, this is a bar in Utah, so there were some interesting rules. For instance, we couldn't carry our beers from the bar to our table. The waitress had to." "Well it's against the law to transport liquor in Utah. Apparently they take that very literally.") It was a perfect evening, both in terms of friends and weather--clear skies but only mildly cool, not even what I'd call chilly. A good omen for race day, I felt.

After breakfast Friday morning I went to the Expo to get my stuff and hang out with more of my friends, including Kelly, Ann, and Angela. Around midday, a number of us loaded into a van and drove up along the course, to preview it firsthand. At the starting zone we stopped to take some pictures and marvel at the campfires which were being set up along the side of the road behind the start line. Then we started driving back down, taking in the views and noting the steep downhills we'd be facing the next morning. My nerves, which had started to kick in on the drive to the airport, kind of went into overdrive at that point. I took some notes about where to hold back and where to open it up along the course, thinking that I would review them before Saturday morning. ("Which I didn't." "Figures.")

After a quick lunch I went back to the hotel to try to relax and get in a quick nap before dinner. The pasta dinner at the Expo was quite good, better even than Oklahoma City. ("And MUCH better than Omaha." "Good thing too, since your father wasn't there to take you to a steakhouse instead.") Unfortunately they did not have live music, but I really enjoyed the chance to spend some time eating and chatting with my friends. I also broke down and finally bought a running shirt with "26.2" written inside a Superman logo. ("Friends have pointed them out to me at each of the last 3 marathons I've run." "About time you took the hint!")

I was up Saturday morning a little after 3 AM. After getting ready, I joined my team and we drove our van to the finish line-slash-bus pickup. We loaded into a bus and were taken to the start line. At just under a mile above sea level, at 5 in the morning, it was freezing! I was glad I'd put my jacket on, but more glad that the campfires we'd seen set up the day before were now blazing with light and warmth. Along with the thousands of other runners, we huddled together near the flames, turning around like rotisserie chickens to make sure everything got warm. My nervous energy was building, but I was quietly ready to rock the hell out of this course.

With about 15 minutes to spare, we wished each other good luck one last time and inserted ourselves into the crowd at various points. I put myself just behind the 4:30 pace group leader, readily identifiable by his red and white balloons.

The race started on time at 6:45 AM. It took me about five minutes to get to the actual start line. Once there, I held myself back, taking the first mile nice and slow. Consequently, my pace group leader soon left me far behind. I didn't care. I figured I'd catch up to him by the end of the race, maybe even manage to pull ahead in the last mile or so. I covered my first mile in 11:09, right on pace and feeling great! The sun wasn't quite up yet, but the sky was starting to lighten. I increased my pace over the next few miles, enjoying the course vistas (what I could see of them) and the excitement of the day.

Now the first half of the course had some interesting challenges. After a couple of shortish and easy climbs in the first few rolling miles, the road settled into a fairly gradual downhill until Veyo, about 7 1/2 miles in. At that point the course climbed steadily up Veyo hill. An interesting thing happened to me at that point. I'd been passed by several people as I held back in the first 2 miles of the course. And, as I was taking walk breaks at the start of every mile, I was playing a kind of leapfrog game with several other runners: I would catch up to them just as I finished each mile, whereupon they would pull ahead again as I started to walk. But as I went up Veyo, I started passing some of the people I'd been leapfrogging, and some that had shot past me at the start. I have to say, I do love doing that. ("Just as long as they don't catch up to you again at the end of the race...")

After another longish climb and some more rolling, the course settled back into a steady downhill after the halfway point. Just before I reached this part of the course, I saw the 4:30 pace group leader, still holding his balloons, off in the distance. I turned up my intensity just a bit over the next several miles, drawing ever closer to him. Finally, at about mile 14, I caught up with him. By mile 16 I had left him behind, and increased my lead over the next two miles by pushing my pace, before forcing myself to settle down again. I still had about eight miles to run, after all, and didn't want to crash in the last 10k!

Since I'd been running downhill for the last several miles, the uphill just past mile 18 was something of a relief. ("Because anything different is good?") At the same time, it was very annoying because it was fairly steep, albeit mercifully short. I deliberately held off my walk for that mile until the bottom of that hill, and used that brief rest to remarshall my mental forces to prepare for the rest of the race. I was aided in this process by the beautifully distracting vistas, and by repeating the final lines of the St Crispin's Day speech from Shakespeare's Henry V:

And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,
Will think themselves accurs'd they were not here;
And hold their manhood cheap, whilst any speaks
That fought with us upon St Crispin's Day!

("That really became my mantra through the last part of the race. It came to me while I was standing around at 6:00 waiting for the start, and realizing that most of my friends--and most sane people--were still asleep." "My god, you are such a nerd.")

After a quick stop at the aid station just before mile 23 to get some BenGay rubbed on my knees (which worked great, by the way--the pain almost completely disappeared and I felt like I had a fresh pair of knees to run on!), I dialed up my intensity a bit. As I said, I'd held back before for fear of blowing out early, and was really feeling tired at this point. But I was also very aware that I was on track to PR and hit my sub-4:30 goal, so I forced myself on, pushed myself past the mental block I've been struggling with ever since my first marathon in 2007. By this time the course had reached the town of St George, and as I ran through the streets lined with spectators, closing in on the finish line, I felt stronger than I ever had at that point in any marathon (even OKC).

(A quick note about Utah spectators: We were all surprised at the large number of small children we saw at the Expo and pasta dinner on Friday, and lining the course spectating on Saturday! Seriously, there must have been eight or nine dozen at each event. The reason why never even occurred to me until after Coach David told a story about a conversation he and Julie had with a couple of natives. When the subject of children came up, and David mentioned that he and Julie had one son, the Utahan's response was, I kid you not, "One doesn't count." Apparently, he had SEVEN. When I heard that story, of course, I realized then why there had been so many kids everywhere.)

My Garmin chose that moment to die on me, at 25.79 miles, with less than half a mile to go. I was pretty pissed off, but I used that to fuel my running to the end. I rounded the last corner and saw the finish line in the distance, and the clock just turning over 4:32:00. Figuring I was still about 5 minutes behind the clock, I knew that meant I was going to hit my goal and come in under 4:30. I poured all of what I had left into my legs, coming across the finish line at a full sprint to the cheers of the spectators, pushing every last ounce of energy into that final burst. I figured I'd finished about 4:27 and change.

After the race I found my Runner's Edge friends, nearly all of whom had either PR'd or BQ'd or both. I checked my official race time and learned that I'd finished even faster than I'd thought: 4:25:34, a 15-minute improvement over OKC! I was so overcome that I could barely share the news with my friends.

I want to thank all of my friends, both in Runner's Edge and elsewhere, for their support over this last training session. The encouragement you all provided went a long way towards helping me achieve this goal (and in such a big way!), and I'm truly grateful. Thank you!!

Official Time: 4:25:34
Total Races: 20
YTD Race Miles: 190.3
YTD Total Miles: 1043.3
On comparing In-N-Out Burger to Del Taco for a post-race meal: Chuck: "Well it's tough to get quality Mexican food at In-N-Out." Me: "It's tough to get it at Del Taco, too."

Zooma Women's Half Marathon 2009

Yes, you read that right. No, this was not a women-only event, it was women-mostly. When I first heard about this race (from Runner's Edge Coach David, who helped design the course), I went to the website to investigate. When I saw the race shirts had "men's sizes also available," I emailed the race director who confirmed that I could register if I wanted. A race population that would probably be 93% women? Yeah, I had to think for all of about 2 seconds for that one.

That was a month or so ago. Of course, I knew that this race would be two weeks after the Disneyland half marathon, and two weeks before the St George full marathon. I told myself that at either Disneyland or Zooma, I would break two hours. Fortunately (as you know, O Loyal Reader), that happened at Disneyland, leaving me free to take a more relaxed approach to the Zooma race. I (half-) jokingly told my friends that this would not be a PR race, nor even a hard race: this would be a flirt race. I planned to enjoy myself and make some new friends. But even with that, when my friend Keri (who worked registration) told me that there were only 22 men signed up, I figured I might at last be able to say that I had a top 10 finish (in my division, that is).

Before the race, I designed a sign to pin to my back that quoted Shania Twain's song "Man I Feel Like A Woman." I'd kicked the idea around before, and all the women I'd told about that said it was a good call, that it would make people laugh and get some attention. At least, I thought it would make a good conversation starter. This morning, when I connected with my RER friends who were running, they all gave the sign a thumbs-up.

When the race started, I settled into an easy sub-11 minute warmup pace, running with some friends. After that first mile, I increased my speed to around 10-minute pace, planning to hold that for the rest of the run. As I ran, I'd say Hi to some of the women I passed and chat with them for a while. About 3 miles in I struck up a conversation with a young lady from Alaska named Clea. We were going at about the same pace, so I decided to stick with her for a while. We chatted about running half marathons and fulls, where she went to school (she's in Boulder getting her masters), and how often she gets back to Alaska. We ran together for about the next 5 miles, until I (stupidly) did the same thing I did at Disneyland: powered through an uphill and left her behind.

The aid station at the 8 mile point was manned by Runner's Edge. Coach David was there with his megaphone, encouraging the runners as they came up the hill. I was happy to see Al, Jen, Julie, Mike, and many others as I came powering through. It's always a great boost to see friends on a race course.

I then caught up with fellow RERers Leslie and Jamie, and ran with them for a few miles. I enjoyed that, too, as I hadn't really spoken with either of them at great length before. But they dropped me, as they were both feeling strong and wanted to push harder than I did.

After I came back along the course and passed the Runners Edge aid station, I struck up brief conversations with other runners. I also started thinking about where I was in terms of finishing order. I'd passed a handful of the other men running the race, and seen what I assumed to be the first two finishers come tearing past me (before the 8 mile mark). Where, then, was I in relation to them? I started asking some volunteers how many men had passed them before me, and was encouraged when they all indicated that I was the 3rd or 4th one. I wanted to turn up my effort, but I reminded myself that I wasn't going for a PR in this race, that I was taking it slow and having fun. I almost believed it.....

I did slow down to walk along the last uphill climb before the course turned onto MLK Blvd in the last mile. I was still pretty secure in thinking I was going to be the 3rd or 4th male finisher, and decided to cut myself a break. When I hit the level road, though, for the last half mile, I turned it up again to about 10 minute pace. And as I turned the last corner and saw the finish line a tenth of a mile away, I gradually increased my speed to have a nice strong finish. And although my final time was nowhere near my PR (and in fact was slower than my last 3 half marathons), I was satisfied with my results, especially when I saw them posted: turns out I was 2nd in my division and the 4th male to finish overall!

Official Time: 2:13:33
Total Races: 19
YTD Race Miles: 164.1
YTD Total Miles: 990.1
After the race: A woman asked if she could take my picture. Turns out, she actually wanted a picture of my sign!

Fans on the Field 5k 2009

Yesterday I ran 20 miles. It was my last long run before the forthcoming St George (UT) marathon on October 3. Usually, Coach Dave of Runner's Edge of the Rockies schedules our weekly runs so that my last 20 happens on The Parker Run, an infamous (within the group) and challenging run that starts in Aurora and crosses over E470 into Parker. There are some long, slow climbs on that run, and its reputation is well deserved. We often joke about the difficulty of that run, and (tongue firmly in cheek) try to scare newer members with horror stories.

(Actually the truth of the matter, from my point of view, is that it's not that bad. Sure, it is a difficult run, but I enjoy the challenge and the feeling of conquest I get whenever I finish. Also--at least to date--none of my marathons has been as challenging as The Parker Run.)

This season, though, The Parker Run wasn't my last 20. Instead, yesterday's run was out in Lone Tree, starting in Park Meadows and moving south through Bluffs Regional Park. Coach Dave called this run "Parker Junior," and with good reason. A steady climb up for the first 2 miles, then a quick descent followed by a long, slow climb through the Park, then up and over two steep peaks before levelling out somewhat. Then, we had to go back along the same path!

For my money, this run is even more challenging than The Parker Run. They're pretty comparable in terms of total elevation gain, but there are some steep descents on this one that Parker lacks. For all the increased difficulty, though, the 6 of us that went 20 pulled each other through with encouragement, teamwork, and funny stories. It was a very fulfilling run, and a great way to wrap up my hard training prior to my taper.

Now (in the words of Bill Cosby), I told you that story to tell you this one.

Earlier this week I finally got around to registering for the Fans on the Field 10k, an event that I ran in 2007 but missed in 2008 because I was in Omaha for the marathon. Fans on the Field is a fun race that starts at Mile High, runs to and through the Pepsi Center, Coors Field, and Mile High at the end. I'd put it on my calendar a few months ago, when I realized it didn't conflict with the Disneyland Half marathon. I was looking forward to running this race, even knowing that since I'd run 20 the day before a PR was hardly in the cards. And up until about 5:45 yesterday afternoon, I still planned on running the 10k. But, I got to thinking, that would be like running a full marathon (in two days). Why would I do that to myself? Oh sure, I could tell myself that I would take it very easy at the race, and maybe even walk it; but I know me. I wouldn't do that. So I decided to dial back to the 5k. What the hell.

It was a beautiful morning for a race. There was some fog early on, but by race time it had burned away. There was a good crowd for both the 10k and the 5k. I checked in with my friend Keri, who was working the event. I told her that I planned to take it pretty easy in the race, since I'd run 20 miles the day before, and anticipated finishing in just under 27 minutes. ("It is recognized that you have a funny sense of 'easy.'")

Naturally, once the race started, all thoughts of relaxing and going easy on myself flew out of my head, replaced by the rush of competition and the thrill of pushing myself. I pushed a very aggressive pace for the first quarter mile, before forcing myself back. I soon settled in to what I thought was an easy effort, but was surprised to find myself passing runners right and left. Honestly, on a scale of 1 to 10 I really felt that I was going about a 7, maybe 6 1/2, but I was still moving through the crowd with relative ease.

Just before the 1 mile mark, I was passed by a tall kid who looked like he was hardly expending any effort. I took no real notice at the time, because he was hardly the first person to have passed me (although that number compared with the number of runners I passed was definitely small). I just kept on running my own race, staying within my fairly easy-feeling effort and slowly moving my way up through the pack. However, about the time we got to the Pepsi Center, I saw him ahead of me. I caught up to him quickly and, as we ran across the lacrosse field, passed him by. I expected him to pull alongside me very quickly; but when he did not I put him out of my mind again.

Until, that is, we turned onto the bridge to take us across the Platte River on the east side of Mile High at mile 2.6. I was feeling good at that point; I'd increased my pace steadily over the course of the run and, with a half mile to go, was preparing to turn it up just a little more. When suddenly, that same kid came tearing past me! "Good job," he said as he caught up. "You, too!" I replied. "Was sure I'd dropped you." For about a second I debated the merits of racing him down, weighing which was more likely: a photo finish, or him leaving me in his dust. I decided that I had nothing to prove, since I'd run 20 miles the day before (did I mention that?). "All yours, kid," I said as I held myself to my current (granted, sub-8-minute-mile) pace, and chuckled to myself as he tore past me. Oh, to be young and well-rested.

I still finished with a respectable time of 25:30 (by my watch. The 5k race isn't officially timed). I spent the rest of today off my feet, and will take tomorrow off from running, which should give me enough time to recharge before Tuesday's workout. And, by dropping back from the 10k, I had a 5k for September that I otherwise would have had to make up next month. So all in all, a pretty good day.

"Official" Time: 25:30
Total Races: 18
YTD Race Miles: 153
YTD Total Miles: 970
How Many Miles Did You Run Yesterday, Again?: Twenty

Disneyland Half Marathon 2009

At the Walt Disney World marathon expo, I saw a booth for the Coast to Coast Challenge: if I completed the marathon in Florida and a half-marathon at Disneyland in California within the same calendar year, I could earn a third medal commemorating that achievement. After about 20 seconds' thought, I decided to sign up for that Disneyland half marathon. I planned on making a mini-vacation out of it, taking a couple of days after the race to spend some time at Disneyland with my baby sister, who lives in Los Angeles. Naturally, as had happened with Disney World, once my dad heard about my plans, he invited himself along. ("Which actually worked out well, as he let me stay at his hotel and provided transportation to and from the airport." "Not to mention buying the food!" "I know. Eight dollars for a churro?!") I was also joined on this trip by fellow Runner's Edge of the Rockies members Gert, Merril, Susan, and Kandy, all of whom were going for that Coast to Coast medal.

After spending some time in LA with my sister, I connected with my friends at the expo at the Disneyland Hotel. Then on Saturday, my dad and I went to Disneyland. There had been a 5K race that morning at 6:45, and a kids' fun run at 8:30, so of course the park opening was delayed slightly while the staff ushered all the participants out. ("God bless Disney. No free rides for anyone, eh?") We spent a little time in the Magic Kingdom before heading across to California Adventure, where we spent the day before returning to the hotel after dinner. ("Wait, you spent the day before a big race walking around?!" "In fairness, most of it was standing. In lines.") Saturday's dinner was a home-cooked pasta meal at the condo which my friends were renting, which was across the street from the Disneyland Hotel and within walking distance of the race start.

Very early Sunday morning, my friends and I made our way to the starting area. After dropping our bags and getting our picture taken with a couple Toy Story army men, we wished each other luck and headed off to our starting corrals. I was in Corral B, and seeded myself about 20 feet from the front--much further up than I'd intended, as I discovered when I saw the 1:45 pacer move into position a little in front of me! I looked behind me and saw the pacer for a two-hour half marathon (which was my goal) towards the back of Corral B. Oh, well. As long as they didn't catch up to me.....

At 6:00, we were off! As I crossed over the start line and began my race, I focused on holding back. My strategy for this race was to run the first mile in 10 minutes, and then up my pace to 9-minute miles for the rest. That would get me to the finish line in just over 117 minutes. Of course, the cool temperatures ("It was still dark out."), plentiful oxygen ("God bless sea level!"), and plethora of faster-paced runners surrounding me ("That's what happens when you start too far up." "Didn't you learn that lesson at Oklahoma City?") made it easy to lose track of my slower pace, and I really had to work to stay where I wanted to. I did not want to burn out in the first mile!

As the course turned off Harbor Blvd to the south access road into the park, I looked for my dad and baby sister. Unfortunately, the crowd had only started to thin out and it was still dark, so I did not see them. Nothing daunted, I continued to run, now settling into a 9-minute per mile pace which I would hold for the rest of the race. We ran through California Adventure in the predawn, to the cheers of the park employees who were our only crowd. ("Unlike Disney World, spectators were not allowed into the parks for this race." "Lame!!") We crossed through California Adventure and across the Promenade which separted it from Disneyland, then entered the Magic Kingdom. We wound our way behind Space Mountain before wrapping around Fantasyland and heading to Sleeping Beauty's Castle. As at the Magic Kingdom in Disney World, there was a great photo opportunity as I came out of the castle--or would have been, if there had been less people around! ("Actually I'm pretty sure there won't be very many good pictures of me on the course. Almost every time I saw a cameraman, there were at least three runners between me and him; and on the few occasions there weren't, he was reloading film!" "You are such a narcissist.")

We ran through Frontierland and past the Rivers of America before exiting the park and turning up towards Ball Road. Almost immediately we started one of the very few climbs on this course as the road arced over the Santa Ana Freeway. ("Or as the natives call it, 'the I-5.'") I was still feeling great, the temperatures were still in the low- to mid-60s, and happily, the sun had yet to break through the clouds. What's more, there were plenty of spectators as the course made its way east along Ball Road. I enjoyed slapping five's and blowing kisses to the high school cheerleaders as I went by. ("Pervert.") I even ran for a bit with a man dressed like Peter Pan, and joked that we should just fly out of here. He left me behind at about the 4 1/2 mile mark, but I'm happy to say that I caught up with him and passed him at around mile 7 and never saw him again. ("Peter Pan flew with children...in a fairy tale.")

Just before the 8-mile mark the course turned off Douglass Rd and through the parking lot for the Honda Center, home of the Anaheim Mighty Ducks. ("I think they're just the Anaheim Ducks now." "What's up with that?!") This was a mile before we would run through Angels stadium, home of the Anaheim Angels. ("Actually, they're the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim." "What's up with that?!") I spent that mile running along side a very lovely woman who was wearing a Kansas City running shirt. I asked her if she had ever run the KC Marathon, and if she knew of the KC Runner's Edge group. Turns out, she's a member. I told her I was a member of the Denver affiliate, and we spent some time comparing notes and sharing war stories of our various races as we ran along the Santa Ana Trail between the two stadiums. ("Should that be 'stadia'? If the plural of datum is data...")

At mile 9 1/2 we entered Angel stadium and ran along the warmup track behind the first base line, past home plate, and then along the third base line. There was a huge crowd inside the stadium cheering for us. As we passed home plate, we could see ourselves up on the jumbotron screen, which was pretty neat. I still felt great, not really tired thanks to the copious amounts of air available at sea level. I was ahead of schedule by more than two minutes at this point according to my Garmin. As we passed the 10-mile mark, I said out loud to myself, "Okay, just a 5k left. No problem." ("Someone came up to me after the race and said that he'd heard me say that, and he wanted to thank me for it because he'd been starting to fade at that point. My words encouraged him to keep going!" "How d'you like that. Someone actually listened to you!")

Just before mile 12 we crossed Harbor Blvd again and re-entered California Adventure. At this point I saw my sister and dad, which made me happy as I hadn't seen them the first time I went past that point. I also realized that I had been running for an hour and forty-five minutes and had less than a mile and a quarter to go. If I'd wanted to, I could afford to slow down considerably and still come in under two hours. Of course, I had every intention of doing the exact opposite, and pushed my pace even harder. Then, as the course made its final turn, with about a quarter mile to go, I repeated what Coach David had called to me as I approached the finish at Georgetown last year: "Less than a quarter mile--less than one lap around the track!"

At the 13 mile mark I saw the finish line around a slight curve, with Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Donald Duck, and Daisy Duck all cheering runners in, and the finishing clock inching its way towards 1 hour, 58 minutes. Arms raised in triumph, knowing that because I was about two minutes behind the clock, my final time would be even better, I ran across the finish line. Sure enough, my final time was 1:56:21, nearly an 8-minute improvement over last year's Georgetown race. I also got my Coast to Coast medal as well as the half marathon finisher's medal, which of course was the whole point of this.

I spent the rest of Sunday (after a shower and a nap) at Disneyland and California Adventure. My dad and sister and I had a great celebratory dinner with Merril and Gert, and my dad and I hit almost every ride in the Magic Kingdom over the course of the next day and a half. ("Actually, we did every ride I wanted to, including Splash Mountain and Mr Toad's Wild Ride, both of which had been closed in Disney World." "So how many rides didn't you do?" "Mad Hatter Teacups and It's A Small World.")

I want to thank all my friends and family for believing in me and sending their positive vibes my way. I felt really good going into this race about breaking the 2-hour mark, and am very happy with how it turned out. My next full marathon is less than 4 weeks away, and I expect that one will also be a great race.

Official Time: 1:56:21
Total Races: 17
YTD Race Miles: 141.9
YTD Total Miles: 937.6
Worst Part of the Weekend: The booth in the big Disney shop at Downtown Disney selling half marathon merchandise, including finisher's Tshirts and slightly-smaller-than-the-real-deal finisher medal replicas!! Seriously?! What the hell did I just run that race for if just anybody can buy one of those?!

Wild West Relay 2009 Part II

We made our way north towards the Colorado-Wyoming border as the afternoon turned into evening. While Allison was running her second leg, the sun set (about 8:30). We waited for her at the state line to take a picture. ("Under the sign?" "You wish. There was no sign, and in fact the state line was represented by a cattle guard across the road." "Was that it?" "Pretty much. Except the road--which was a dirt road in Colorado--was paved in Wyoming.") As Amy began her leg (leading to the halfway point), the full moon rose, and with a mostly cloudless sky added to the surreal beauty of the Wyoming ranch land.

We met up with the second van in Wood's Landing late Friday night, then drove back into Colorado and on to Walden for some much-needed shut-eye. I am grateful that our van had its second sleep break during the night, but at the same time kind of jealous of the other van. I ran a relay leg at night a year or so ago (the Blue Planet Run), and it was a very surreal experience. I wish I'd had the chance to do that again. But as it was, we slept (again, some more easily than others) on a grassy field at Walden High School, resting as well as we could in the chilly Colorado mountain air. ("I had flashbacks to my Bicycle Tour of Colorado trip in 2005." "Really? Did you meet a cute blonde on this trip too?" "Actually several, but they were all faster than me.") We were up at 4:00 to get ready for our next (and final!) round of running.

Amanda arrived and handed off to John at 5:00 Saturday morning, so he started his last leg exactly 24 hours after starting his first. He had a nice easy downhill for 6 miles before handing off to me for my last. I started my last leg at about 6:00, just as the sun was starting to show itself in a spectactular sunrise that was, for me, one of the best parts of the whole race. After a steady 2-mile climb (over which I held a nice 10-minute pace), the road switched to an easy downhill mile before levelling off for the remainder.

With about a mile left, the road straightened out in front of me. Off in the far distance, I thought I could see the exchange point. That is, I saw a dark, unmoving mass next to the road which might have been a dozen or so vans waiting for runners. To keep myself from going crazy watching it grow closer by inches, I told myself over and over again that it was a mirage, that I was delirious due to a lack of any decent REM sleep over the past 26 hours. By the time I managed to convince myself that I was seeing things, I had gotten close enough to see that it was, in fact, the exchange point. I was about a quarter mile away from being done with running, so I dug as deep as I could to force myself to move as fast as I could. As with my last run, I crossed the exchange point at a full-on sprint, and handed off to Al to the cheers of the spectators and my teammates.

The rest of our final legs went very well. Al, Chris, Allison, and Amy all ran very strong, especially given how tired we all were. Allison, who had been dealing with blister issues for most of the race, turned in a very strong finish. I say that because of those four, she was the only one who had never done anything like this before (neither had John nor I, but we were done by this point). Al, Chris, and Amy had all done this race last year and at least had some idea of what to expect. ("To say nothing of an endless list of Things To Do Differently This Time. They sure learned a lot after that first experience." "For instance?" "Bring an extra sleeping pad, because you never know when some unthinking fool might snake yours.")

We met up with Van 2 about midmorning. It was a beautiful day, with clear blue skies and a nice cool breeze keeping temperatures down. Amy handed off to Bret, and we drove ourselves up to the top of Rabbit Ears pass to cheer for him at the next exchange. This is the Pass that inspired the race's motto, "Get Your Ass Over The Pass." While not as steep or quite as high as Sand Creek, it is a longer run by about a mile. More importantly, it's the last steep climb, 165 miles into the race as opposed to less than 80. It is by no means an easy accomplishment, and any runner who conquers it should be extremely proud. We were all proud of Bret, and cheered for him loudly when he handed off to Randy. Then John, Al, Chris, Allison, Amy, and I made our way to Steamboat Springs to wait.

Before going to the finish line at Steamboat Springs Middle School, we stopped to buy a 6-pack of Fat Tire and enjoy some time just sitting, all six of us, and thinking about what we had and were about to accomplish. Again, for half of us, this was something completely new. We were justifiably proud of all that we had done.

At the finish area, we got some much needed food. ("Mmm...burgers.") We also had a chance to meet up with several other Runner's Edge friends who had formed their own teams. I also spent some time chatting with some of the other runners on other teams I'd met over the weekend. ("Would that be those women you mentioned earlier?" "Among others, yes. Now mind your own business.") At just after 3:30, Amanda and Randy came into view, running along the track. As is tradition at this race, the rest of us joined in to run the last hundred yards or so and cross the finish line as a team, ending the adventure some 34 hours and 33 minutes after starting.

Many thanks to Al, John, Chris, Allison, Amy, Bret, Randy, Alyse, Jen, Lana, and Amanda for participating, encouraging, sharing, and everything! This was a heck of a thing to do, and we did it! I'm so glad to have been part of it!

(PS--as you can tell, this blog focused on my van's travels and my running in particular. But that was only half of the race. Although I didn't think to ask anyone in Van 2 to take notes, Amateur Photographer and Blinkybutt(TM) Bret took several dozens of pictures of his van's experiences. To see them, click here.)

See also:
Chris's Pictures
Jen's Pictures
Randy's Pictures


Official Time: 34:33:11
Total Races: 16
YTD Race Miles: 128.8
YTD Total Miles: 794.1
Hours of Actual Sleep During the Relay: ~5

Wild West Relay 2009 Part I

("Wake up! You promised people you'd have the WWR blog up today!" "What time is it?" "Four o'clock in the afternoon! You've been asleep all day! Gotta get cracking!" "All right, but first I have to eat. I'm starving!" "Fine. Go get a burger." "Burger, nothing. I'm so hungry I could eat the whole cow!")

Yes, friends, it's time for another epic tale, this time of the Wild West Relay, a 200-mile adventure relay race that starts in Ft Collins and ends in Steamboat Springs, after wandering through Roosevelt National Forest in Larimer County, up over Sand Creek Pass (elev 10, 269 ft), into Albany County in southern Wyoming, through Medicine Bow National Forest in Jackson County, Colorado, and up and over the Continental Divide at Rabbit Ears Pass (elev 9573 feet). I had the extreme pleasure of running with a team made up of Runner's Edge of the Rockies members Al, Bret, Randy, John, Amy, Alyse, Jen, Lana, and Allison, Chris, and Amanda. The twelve of us divided into two vans. This allowed half of the team to drive ahead on the course to rest while the other half ran, and leapfrog along the way so that each person would run a total of three of the 36 legs of the relay. ("Some teams had only six people, each of whom ran six legs. One person actually ran the entire race by himself!" "Wow. And I thought you twelve were crazy.")

	Van 1		Van 2
1	John	7	Bret
2	Doug	8	Randy
3	Al	9	Alyse
4	Chris	10	Jen
5	Allison	11	Lana
6	Amy	12	Amanda

John started us off in Ft Collins at 5:00 am. After a while the rest of us drove along the course, cheering for John and all the other runners as we passed. ("This became something of a tradition for us, cheering for all the runners as we drove along to each exchange point." "I'm sure they all appreciated it." "The funny thing was, at first our cheers were enthusiastic and coherent: 'Way to go,' 'Good job,' and that sort of thing. By the end they descended to a kind of unintelligible 'Grahraun!' kind of noise, and we weren't doing it all the time." "Didn't care any more?" "No, we were just exhausted.")

All too soon John was finished with his run and I was off. Actually, John was the first person to reach the exchange point, which meant that we were in the lead. ("Awesome!" "Yeah, well, it didn't last long.") I set off at a very aggressive pace to start, but was passed by a runner about 0.3 miles into my 3.9-mile leg. Still, I maintained a sub-9 minute pace for the entire run, and in fact each mile was faster than the one before. ("That, also, wouldn't last.") The sun had risen by the time I started but stayed, mercifully, behind some low-hanging clouds which kept the temperature nice and cool. My first leg was very quiet and peaceful in the early dawn. There was very little traffic and some gentle, easy uphills.

I finished my 3.9 miles in just under 34 minutes. After that I climbed into the van to rest. We made our way along the course, with Al running after me, followed by Chris, then Allison, and then Amy. At each exchange point, we would wait for a while, then drive along slowly, cheering for runners as we passed them--especially our own--and then waiting ahead at the next exchange point. I particularly enjoyed seeing members of the other teams again and again at these exchanges. It was kind of nice to be able to check in with them. It was a wonderful opportunity to make new friends and really feel part of a community. ("A community of crazy people!" "Be that as it may...")

We got to the first van exchange at 10:05. It was now Van 2's turn to run, and the six of us in the first van had a chance to eat some real food. ("A church at the exchange point was serving homemade waffles. Allison, Chris, and I agreed they were hands down the most delicious waffles ever." "What?! Even better than Waffle House in Ft Collins?! I can't believe that!") After cheering for Bret--first runner for Van 2--and encouraging the other half of our team, we drove ahead to the next van exchange at Chapel Pines near Red Feather Lake to get some sleep and wait for Van 2 to arrive. Rolling our sleeping bags out on a nice grassy knoll, we managed to catch a few hours of sleep. Before we knew it, Van 2 had arrived ahead of our last runner, Amanda. So John got ready to begin his second leg of the relay--a very hard uphill climb of five miles. When Amanda arrived, John took off. We followed after a while, still cheering for the runners as we passed.

While we waited at the next exchange point, I spent some time reviewing my next leg. Of course I'd studied it pretty carefully in the weeks leading up to this, trying to psyche myself up for it. But now that it was here, and having driven up along John's climb, I was getting plenty nervous. I was facing an 8.5 mile run that would start downhill for the first 2.25 miles before climbing from just below 9200 feet to the top of Sand Creek Pass at 10,269 feet, 4 and 1/2 miles later, followed by a quick descent for the last 2 miles. I'd thought I'd be able to handle the nearly 1200 foot elevation gain if not easily, at least without having to walk. Now, I wasn't so sure.

When John arrived, I set off. I made good time on the initial downhill, holding myself to about a 9:15 pace for the duration. When I started to climb up, I slowed to about 11 minutes, a pace I hoped I could hold for the rest of the uphill. ("When our van passed by me, they sang some of my Theme Music at me." "What's your Theme Music?" "Superman the Movie." "I should've known.") But as the climb grew steeper as the road wound its way up, my pace began to slip. To keep my focus, I began reciting Shakespeare monologues in my head--Hamlet, Julius Caesar, MacBeth, even some of Portia's "Quality of Mercy" speech from "The Merchant of Venice." I also spent some time chatting with other runners. I ran for about a half mile with Kevin, who was a member of a wedding party: two of his teammates were getting married in Steamboat on Sunday. I also ran with Mark, a Lieutenant Commander in the US Navy and member of Team NF, a charity team supporting neurofibromatosis research. Mark and I paced each other for a solid mile before I pulled ahead just before the summit of Sand Creek.

I'm happy to say that I walked less than a mile of that uphill. I took 7 or 8 walk breaks, each about a tenth of a mile, on the steepest climbs. They were good breaks, because they gave me a chance to reset my form and renew my focus. When I started downhill, I picked my pace up again to about 9:00. As I rounded a corner and saw the exchange point and my teammates about a tenth of a mile away, I gave a shout of triumph. Suddenly I heard a runner coming up behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Mark closing on me fast. As he pulled alongside me he said, "If you wanna beat me, I'm gonna make you work for it." Before I knew it we were in a full-on sprint for the finish. As our respective teammates and the volunteers and other waiting runners cheered, we handed off to our next runners at exactly the same time! It was awesome.

Next: The night shift and Big Finish

Donor Dash 5k 2009

My July 5k was the "family tradition" race, the Donor Dash in Washington Park. This race--which was, incidentally, my first 5k--is put on by the Donor Alliance and honors, as you might guess, organ donors and recipients. Now, most races support one cause or another; and while I believe that is honorable and important, it's never a determining factor for me. But this one is different because I have a personal connection. Since my mother was an organ donor, I feel this is an important race for me and my family to support; which is why we've run it almost every year for the past 4 (we missed 2007 because we were in London).

One of the interesting things about doing a race over and over again is watching things change, particulary the number of participants. The BolderBOULDER is a great example of this, because each year more and more people sign up for it (upwards of 50,000 this year!). And, although it has a long way to go before even approaching those kind of numbers, the Donor Dash is similarly exploding. When we first ran it in 2006, there were 952 registered runners. This year, they had over 3,000! If things continue like this, they may have to move it out of Washington Park in a few years.

The night before the race, I was at my alma mater, Regis Jesuit High School, for my 15-year class reunion. That was a fun opportunity to catch up with several friends I haven't spoken to or even seen in the past 15 years (even with Facebook, I've connected with only a very few, and that very casually). The food was great; and, while not my usual pre-race meal, it certainly fit the bill. And as the evening wore on (a lovely expression. With your permission, I'll say it again: "The evening wore on."), I enjoyed hearing stories about what my old friends had been up to for the past decade-and-a-half, and regaling them with stories of my own race exploits. I even spent some time trying to convince one of them to come out and join Runner's Edge of the Rockies for a Saturday morning run (c'mon, Goody, you know you want to)! But about 9:00 I figured it was time for me to head back home, to get a solid night's sleep before the Big Race.

Sunday morning was cool, but the lack of clouds in the sky promised that it would get pretty warm pretty quick. In spite of that, I felt confident that I would have a good race, and could even be on target for another PR. After my family and I walked over to the starting area, I set myself up close to the front, ready to go. At just after 8:00 (a slight delay caused by the huge number of race-day registrants), the horn sounded and we were off! I set an aggressive pace to start, and with first Aerosmith and then Guns N Roses blasting in my ears, I covered the first mile in 7:13 (as I confirmed later. I wasn't going to look at my watch this time. The volunteer calling out times said "7:24" when I passed, but it had taken me a few seconds to cross the start line).

Unlike at most 5k races in Wash Park, the water station was set at about 1.3 miles in (it's usually halfway). As I approached, I wrestled with the decision to stop for a drink and eventually did so. I felt like I was still on pace for about a 7:15 second mile, and a few moments' walking didn't seem likely to hurt much. I worried a bit about making it through the rest of the race if the water station was set this close, but reasoned that there might be another one at about 2.5. Sure enough, there was. Good thing, too, as my pace had started to slip thanks to the sun starting to warm things up. My walk break through the second aid station was slightly longer than the first, but I still felt that I was making good time so I wasn't too concerned.

5ks in Washington Park run one and a half loops around the park. As I came around to the south side of the Park on my second lap, I began passing walkers about halfway done with their first mile. Just as the course turned towards the finish, a bit before the 3 mile mark, I heard someone call my name. I glanced to my left and saw my kid sister Maggie(!) and her husband Marty, who waved. I waved back and turned into the last tenth of a mile, turning up the juice as much as I had left. In the distance I could see the finisher's clock, just turning over 23:30. Determined to come in under 24 minutes, I cranked up as much as I could. All of my attention was focused on that clock. Just before it read 24:00, I crossed the finish line.

After I finished, I walked along the course to look for and cheer on my family. My dad, who after the Father's Day 5k last month has been training (on the Stairmaster. Dad, if you want to be a faster runner, you should train on the track!), came over the 3 mile mark some time later. I hollered for him to pick up for a strong finish, but he didn't hear me--his iPhone was cranked up too loud! Ah well. About half a mile away from the finish I met up with my sister Sara. As I'd promised, I ran the rest of the race in with her, encouraging her to a strong finish as well. After that we waited in the shade for Maggie and Marty, who were walking with Sara's dog.

Everyone had a really great time at the race. It was nice for me, after spending an evening among old friends, to spend the morning with family; and nice for us all, I think, to do something to honor my mother.

Official Time: 23:59
Total Races: 15
YTD Race Miles: 109.7
YTD Total Miles: 666.7
Prerace beers (at reunion): 4

Liberty Run 4-mile 2009

I signed up for this race at the urging of my friend Bret, who said that we could probably run it in 32 minutes. I eagerly accepted the challenge, because a) I believed it was possibe, given the way my races turned out in the Spring, b) the chance to race with friends is always appealing to me, and c) it would allow me to say that (with one exception) I ran a race every weekend between Memorial Day and the 4th of July.

Leading up to the race, I began focusing on my performance, developing my strategy and visualizing the race, and feeling the adrenaline surge that happens every time I do that. Four eight minute miles, even along the flat course that is Washington Park, would require focus and determination, but I knew I was up to the challenge. As today drew closer, Bret and I swapped encouragements and positive vibes. How could we fail?

This morning we met at Washington Park, ready to race and race hard. Bret and I set ourselves towards the front of the pack, while his wife Carol and daughter Lauren (who was running her first race EVER) also insinuated themselves into the pack. There was a pretty good crowd for a holiday race (my friend Keri, who was organizing it, told me there were upwards of 400 participants), the sun was shining but there was still some cloud cover, and despite a fair amount of humidity (thanks to last night's rain) I still felt that this was going to be a good race. I knew I'd be able to come in under 32 minutes.

I was determined not to look at my Garmin in this race--I have decided that I do better in short races when I don't. I even set it to the map screen in case I couldn't resist the temptation to glance down (to which, I'm very happy to say, I only gave in as I finished each mile). I was going to run this race entirely by feel, and push as hard as I could. When the race started, I let myself get pulled along by the adrenaline rush of the fastest runners. I kept the lead vehicle in sight for the better part of the first half mile, though, so I know I was setting a pretty blistering pace for myself. That's appropriate for my shorter race distance strategy--set a strong beginning, then ease back (slightly) to what I like to think of as my "hardly comfortable" (as opposed to "comfortably hard") pace which I'll hold for the rest of the race. One of the challenges I've faced as I've tried to develop and fine-tune my strategy is knowing when to start pulling back from that strong beginning: too soon, and I can lose the mental edge that I create; too late, and I burn out more quickly.

I finished the first mile in 7:13. I was still feeling very strong and pumped along by my music and the excitement of racing, but knew that it was time to pull back (only a little) and settle into my "hardly comfortable" speed. I drew up to the aid station at the halfway point at 15:29, clocking 7:30 for the second mile. I hoped I could hold that pace for the rest of the race, after a quick break at the aid station.

The race organizers this year had a special treat: instead of cups, every racer had been given a HydraPouch at the start of the race, and carried it with them to fill at the aid station. It's a novel idea and a decent product, and a way to eliminate a lot of waste at races. I'm sure the volunteers love it. It holds about six ounces of water, weighs next to nothing, and clips on your shorts. Unfortunately, I dropped mine as I tried to re-clip it after the aid station, and just kept running rather than pick it up. Oh, well. It's not like it cost me anything but time.

However, the fierce pace I'd run for the first mile was starting to take its toll, as well as the heat and humidity, and I was feeling the effects as I ran through the third mile. It was noticeably slower; and although I didn't walk any of it (except at the start by the aid station), I was still going at about 8:00 pace--still on target for my finish goal, but no longer as aggressive as I'd started. I focused on my cadence, using the music as a metronome for my footstrikes. I gave myself a short walk break as I finished the third mile, intending to crank up again and really push through the whole of the last mile. But as I've noted before, if I let myself walk once, it's easier to let myself walk again and again as the miles continue. Sure enough, with about a quarter mile to go, I slowed once more to a (thankfully, very short) walk.

(This only applies to shorter races, I think. As you know, I ran the OKC marathon in April using regular short walks--once per mile--as my strategy. And I reaped a huge reward from that, stand by it, and will continue to use it for the forseeable future. But as anyone who's ever run one knows, what works in a marathon is very different from what works in a 5K or--in this case--a 4-mile.)

If nothing else, the two short breaks in the final mile let me recover enough juice to have a very strong finish. I saw Bret's older daughter Sierra as I came up to the finish. I gave her a quick smile and then focused all of my attention on the clock, which read 31:25. I pushed my pace as hard as I could, counting down from 35 (the number of seconds I had left to hit my goal) with my footstrikes. This is something I do when I run on the treadmill: I pick a period of time (say 5 minutes) and count down footstrikes until I hit zero, then glance at the clock to see how much of the 5 minutes is left and count down again from that point, and repeat until the time is up. It's a mild OCD trick, but it helps me focus. Interestingly in this case, I crossed the finish line just as my footstrike countdown reached zero, but before the finishing clock read 32:00. I'd cut it rather fine, but had made my goal.

Official Time: 31:48
Total Races: 14
YTD Race Miles: 106.6
YTD Total Miles: 626.5
Lost: One HydraPouch, looking for replacement

Father's Day 5k 2009

"The trick is picking the smaller races."

For Father's Day this year, I invited my Dad to run this 5k with me up in Arvada. He was happy to join me, so we drove up together to the Apex Rec Center. I grew up in Arvada, not too far from where we were going to be running; and in fact my Dad recognized the large field behind the Center as where my soccer team had played its games (because, like all native Colorado children, I was on a neighborhood soccer team growing up. I think there's a state law that says you have to).

I knew I would have a good race. I always seem to do well on new courses. And I knew from looking at the map for this race that it was going to be relatively flat. During my warmup miles on the course, I ran up what guessed was the only real hill in the first half mile, and figured it would be a pretty flat, pretty easy course after that. The only real challenge was going to be the very narrow course--that first half mile ran along 72nd Avenue, and the course was pretty much restricted to the bike lane on the side. At least there wasn't a whole lot of traffic...

After wishing my Dad good luck, I lined up at the start, pretty close to the front. There was a relatively small crowd--I'd estimated about 150 (in fact there were 181 finishers), so I felt my chances of ranking pretty high were fairly good. Of course, regardless of that I planned on running a solid race anyway and pushing for a new PR. After some announcements and plugs for the sponsors, we were off! I let the excitement of running a new course carry me along over the uphill first half mile and on. However, I did glance at my watch as I made the first turn to see how I was doing, noticing with some surprise that I was pushing a 6:15 pace. I need to get back in the habit of ignoring my watch on these shorter distances--I've had some success with that recently, so I have to get back to that mindset. In any event, I was feeling pretty strong and even though I told myself to ease off a little, I knew I could keep pushing.

Today was the first day of summer, and it really wanted to prove it. Whereas yesterday had been cool and cloudy all day (perfect for the first training run of the Runner's Edge of the Rockies summer session), today was sunny and clear and plenty warm. Unfortunately, after the first mile the course was pretty exposed, so I was definitely feeling the heat during that second mile. There was also a second uphill for about a quarter mile just before the turnaround, which was kind of a rude surprise. These served to take a little of the wind out of my sails, although I am happy to say that at that time I was no longer looking at my watch.

With about a third of a mile to go, the course came off the streets and onto the Ralston Creek Trail. I increased my turnover a little bit for this last bit, and opened it up even more once I reached the 3 mile mark. I crossed the finish in 23:34, faster than the Strides a couple of weeks ago but still 35 seconds off my PR (not that I'm complaining--I ran a solid race and I'm happy with it. Next time I'll just have to push harder).

After grabbing some Gatorade, I walked my way along the course in reverse, looking for my Dad. I saw him coming onto the Trail and shouted words of encouragement at him, and ran him in the rest of the way. I tried to push him as hard as he could go, and I think he was feeling it by the end; but he crossed the finish line in 38:01, a huge improvement over his last 5k.

Oh, yeah, and I almost forgot to mention: when we checked the official results, I discovered that I'd finished 5th in my age group again! Like I said, the trick is picking the smaller races!

After the race we hung out at the Apex Center for a bit, then headed over to my brother-in-law's parents' house for a Father's Day brunch. I was really glad I was able to spend some time with my family on Father's Day, and to run a race with my Dad. I'm looking forward to the Donor Dash in July, which my Dad and sisters and brother-in-law will all run with me as well.

Official Time: 23:34
Total Races: 13
YTD Race Miles: 102.6
YTD Total Miles: 578.85
Dad's 5k improvement: 7 minutes!

Garden of the Gods 10-mile 2009

There's a scene in the movie "Run Fatboy Run" where Dennis (Simon Pegg) is at work a day after completing his first ever training run. He's apparently in some serious agony and is constantly scratching himself for relief. He confesses to his boss that "I went for a bit of a run this morning, and I think I've got a bit of a rash...y'know, down in the...Scrotal Zone." It's a funny line, and I bring it up for two reasons, one of which is that I watched that movie last night with my sister, since I was staying at her place prior to this race (the other I'll get to later on).

"What time do you think you'll finish the race?" she asked me this morning as we drove down to Manitou Springs. Now, last year, I finished the race in one hour and 47 minutes. Going into this morning, I knew two things. One was that I am much stronger and faster than I was at this time last year. My consecutive PRs from March, April, and May speak to that. The other was that this is a really challenging course. It starts at just under 6300 feet and climbs and dips and climbs (mostly climbs) to a high point of just over 6500 feet before coming back down (and up and down again and again). So although I was confident that I would improve, I wasn't confident in how much. Consequently I told my sister that I'd probably shave two or three minutes off my time.

I held back at the start of the race, knowing that didn't want to push too hard and use up too much too quickly. Last year I'd run the first mile in just under 12 minutes. I figured for this year, just under 11 would be appropriate. But I was feeling very strong, there was a slight breeze helping keep things cool, and the first mile is almost all downhill. With all of that, I ran the first mile in 9:44. Then I had to face the first steep uphill climb of many as the course entered Garden of the Gods park.

Last year I ran about 90% of each uphill and walked the rest, running again on the downhill. This year I didn't want to do that, but I knew I would have to slow down a bit to avoid burning out and having no alternative. When I drew close to the top of that first uphill and saw that I was running 10:57 pace, I promised myself I'd keep that as my slowest pace. I could pick up the speed on the downhills to make up any difference easily enough.

I tried not to focus on my speed too much. Since I had forgotten the length of most of the hills, I told myself I could hold the sub-11 pace easily enough, and thus let myself go faster on the downhills. Instead I focused on the scenery (a little) and the other runners around me (mostly). Before I knew it we were being herded over to the right side of the road, which could only mean that the first finishers were on their way back. At mile 3.34 by my Garmin, they came tearing down: five or six very fast, very skinny, very focused men in a tight pack. We broke into cheers and applause for them, as well as the next three that came by, and the next group after that which included the first female finisher. As impressed as I was with the speed, focus, and determination evidenced by each of those runners, I was also impressed with the realization that I was a third of a mile further along than I'd been when I saw the first finishers coming back last year.

I continued to climb up towards the highest point on the course, at about mile 4.5. I'd been consistently managing a sub-10 pace for each mile, staying just below 11 minute pace for the uphills and opening it up on the downs (more than once I found myself at or below 7:30). It was about this point that I realized I was going to finish well ahead of when I'd told my sister I would. I wondered how early she would get to the finish area.....

I was still feeling very strong, and was even able to crack some jokes and strike up a few conversations with some other runners as we wound our way along the concrete path before rejoining the road. As I finished mile 6, however, I became very aware of two issues I'd been trying to ignore: a stitch in my right side that I could not get rid of, and discomfort in my own...er...Scrotal Zone (see? I told you). But I grit my teeth and pushed on, trying with limited success to push them out of my mind. I made it through the out-and-back at 7.5 miles feeling pretty good (in spite of the aforementioned issues), and made some very good time on the next downhill to just before the 8-mile sign.

Climbing up to that sign proved difficult, however. I kept myself on pace, at or below (sometimes a good piece below) an 11-minute mile. But by the time I crested that hill, I was really starting to feel tired. I'd used up almost all of my juice pushing as hard as I had, and for a brief moment panicked that I'd pushed too hard, that I'd have to slow to a walk before I finished. I made a silent vow to myself that I wouldn't let that happen as I crested the hill just after the 8-mile mark. I shortened my steps, let gravity take over, and coasted down that hill before climbing back up the last steep hill en route to the 9-mile mark.

Again, although I managed to stay on pace, I was definitely feeling it as I reached the top of that hill, about a mile and a quarter out from the finish. I noticed, however, that I was pulling abreast of runners who were also starting to run out of steam. That gave me a fresh burst of energy, and I pushed to the top of that last steep hill and started down again. Seeing the 9-mile mark gave me a little more, although I held back from increasing my pace just yet. After all, although it wasn't as steep, the whole of that last mile was mostly uphill!

Seeing the crowd of spectators building along the side of the road gave me that last push, and I picked up my pace for the last half mile. As I came around the last curve, I could see the finisher clock in front of me turn over 1:33:00. I knew I could make it in under 1:34:00. My eyes were focused on the clock, and everything else disappeared: the stitch in my side which I'd been trying to ignore for the last half hour, the groans of protest from my Scrotal Zone, even the presence of the spectators. I didn't even spare a thought for whether my sister was there or not. All I saw was the finish line and the clock. 1:33:45...46...47...48...as it turned over 49 seconds I crossed the line, throwing my hands into the air in triumph.

It wasn't a 10-mile PR (although it was closer than I'd at first thought: I missed my PR by 97 seconds!). But I improved my time by almost 15 minutes over last year's race. So I'll definitely take it, Scrotal Zone discomfort and all.

Official Time: 1:33:49
Total Races: 12
YTD Race Miles: 99.5
YTD Total Miles: 557.45
Number of times you can say "Scrotal Zone" before it stops being funny: 6 (phew! Just made it!)

Strides for Epilepsy 5k 2009

I've run a lot of races this year. More than I ever have before. In fact, I've run a race every week since the Bolder Boulder (and I'm not done yet: check back here next Sunday for my report on the Garden of the Gods 10 Miler, and the Sunday after that for the Stadium Stampede 5k). And I've run them all pretty hard, too, and set a number of PRs--one at every race since the Runnin of the Green, in fact!

Today's race was pretty much a last-minute addition to my calendar, when I realized I hadn't run a 5k at all in May. It was at Washington Park (along with a lot of 5ks), and the weather promised initially to be very favorable to a strong race. The sky was somewhat overcast and the temperature was still plenty cool. When the sun did break through the clouds though, it warmed up pretty quickly.

This was a fairly well-attended event, with special guest speaker Congressman Ed Perlmutter, who ran the race with his daughter Zoe and wife Deana (a former employer of mine! I caught up with them after the race to say Hi). I also spent some time chatting with BKB's Kelly, whose sister Keri is a member of Runner's Edge with me; and with RER member Tinka. I also saw/was passed by member Michelle A on the course.

I set myself a bit further back in the pack at the start than I probably should have (I was resting in the shade behind the truck is why). So, at the start, I spent a good .015 of that first mile ducking, bobbing, and weaving through the crowd. Nonetheless, I attacked the course strongly, and once the traffic cleared up, I was able to settle into a good pace. But here was where I made my first mistake: I looked at my watch.

Regular readers of my blog will remember that I've gotten out of the habit of looking at my Garmin at these shorter races and concentrating on running by feel. In that first mile I probably glanced at my watch four times. I believe it was a mistake. I've had good results in (shorter) races where I don't do that. The glances confirmed that I was setting a strong pace, one which might even allow a new 5k PR; but I think in these shorter races I benefit by not having that pace in the front of my brain, as it is when I look at the watch. I flipped the Garmin to the map screen so that even if I couldn't resist the temptation to look, I wouldn't see anything useful.

I was starting to feel it, though. That first mile was difficult, and the second one even more so. I knew my pace was slipping but I tried hard to focus on something, anything else: my music, the (slight) breeze, anything but the fact that I was running out of juice. Actually, being passed by Michelle helped with that. She was the first runner to pass me; and although I figured I wouldn't be able to catch her, I could at least pass someone else to regain my relative position within the pack. When another runner passed me a short time later, I picked off the next person in front of me to do the same. In all, I think I was passed by a total of eight runners, and I in turn passed an additional eight to make up the difference. Even the three runners who passed me during my slightly-longer-than-usual walk break at the aid station were unable to retain their lead.

But even with all that, I was just out of my groove. I still finished the race in 23 minutes and 57 seconds. That is a strong performance, and I'm happy with it and proud of it; but it's nearly a minute slower than my last 5k (and current PR). I'm not going to make excuses about it (maybe one: that heat did pick up when the sun came out at about mile 1.5). I was off my game. But I'm not going to dwell on it, either. I'm going to put it behind me and start focusing on the Garden of the Gods next week.

Official Time: 23:57
Total Races: 11
YTD Race Miles: 89.5
YTD Total Miles: 536.75
Ed Perlmutter's Final Time: ? (His name isn't on the list.)

Mile High Mile 2009

"What time's your wave?"

"Wave?"

"Yeah. Your wave based on your age group. What time to you start?"

So asked Keri when I checked in with her at the staging area for the Mile High Mile. I had no idea there were waves for this race. It makes sense, because if everyone started at the same time, the race would be over very shortly. So I checked the brochure. My wave started at 9 AM, which meant that I would be able to see the start and finish of each wave preceeding mine. And, since they were all spaced 10 minutes apart, I'd be able to see the waves after mine, including the Elites (under 4:30 for men, under 5:00 for women).

I enjoyed watching the little kids run, I have to admit. They were so eager and excited. Most of them were students at a handful of Denver schools (I found out later that the school with the highest representation got a big honkin trophy). Unfortunately, because there were so very many kids and they were all trying to crowd to be at the front of the line, tragedy was bound to strike. And it did, right out of the gate: two kids bumped into each other and fell down and were promptly trampled by all the kids behind them. Actually it wasn't that bad, and from what I saw both kids got up and kept on running.

As I queued up for my heat, I took a look around at the other runners. There were fifteen or sixteen that I saw, and about half-and-half men to women. In fact, it was the biggest adult wave of the day (other age groups included under 8, 9-11, 12-15, 16-19, 20-29, 40-49, 50-59, 60-69, 70+, and the Elites). So much for my dreams of being one of three guys to run; but I still felt confident that I would make a strong showing. I've run some pretty fast short-distance races this year, such as a sub-23 minute 5k. And this was only one mile! Even so, my whole body was cold with nervousness and a rush of adrenaline, and my heart was pounding.

Then it was time. The countdown: "Five...four...three...two...one..GO!" And we were off. I can't tell you where I was in the pack. I didn't notice any other runners specifically, and although I knew there were some in front of me and some behind, I couldn't tell you how many. What I can tell you is that I covered the first quarter mile in about 85 seconds.

As a marathon runner I've trained myself to "start slow, settle in, and finish strong." This is Coach David's mantra, and it makes sense for 26.2 miles, of course. But for this one-mile race, I wanted to push myself as hard as I could, to "run hard, run well, and run fast!" And although I'd told myself that time and time again before starting, when I looked at my watch and saw my pace was sub-5, I panicked. There was no way I could hold that pace, even for 1200 meters more! I pushed that thinking aside in an instant, but it was too late: I'd slowed down. Not a lot: I was still going at a very fast clip and pushing myself really hard. But not as hard as I had at the start. I prohibited myself from looking at my Garmin for the rest of the race.

The race starts at 14th and Grant, moves south on Grant to 10th, then west one block to Sherman, then back north. Crossing 14th again brings the course right in front of the State Capitol building. As I turned onto Sherman at the halfway point, seeing the gold dome of the Capitol in the distance gave me a boost. I could see the runner in front of me, about a block ahead. I didn't worry about catching up with him, though. I was focusing on myself, running as hard as I could, and if I caught up with him, great! I couldn't hear the runner behind me, but I could sense him, like a tremor in the Force. But I put him out of my mind as well, and concentrated on moving my legs as fast as I could.

He caught me just as we crossed 14th. I'd heard him coming at the north side of the intersection, and by the time we were through it he'd pulled ahead. I dug as deep as I could to find as much as I had left, and pushed my legs even faster, but wasn't able to bridge the gap between us again. Still, he'd given me a great final push for the last tenth of a mile, and helped me to finish in 6:31!!

I watched the last few waves start, including the Elite men (at 10:00) and Elite women (at 10:02). Of course, as soon as the Elite women left, I needed to run back over to the finish area to wait for the Elite men (who by that time were almost halfway done!) to finish. And finish they did! The first one came screaming up the street, graceful and smooth and a solid six seconds ahead of his nearest competitor! His official time was later announced as a blistering 4:16.

This is the fastest mile I have ever run. I'm very happy with my time, and my result: 7 of 16 in my wave, and 13th overall! For next year, the goal is to shave 31+ seconds off and come in at or under 6 minutes. Piece of cake.

Official Time: 6:31
Total Races: 10
YTD Race Miles: 86.4
YTD Total Miles: 528.55
Smallest age group: 60-69 with three men and one woman!

Bolder BOULDER 10k 2009

This has really been my year for PRs. I set a 10 mile PR in February, a 7k PR in March, a 5k PR in Colorado Springs last month, and shaved 15 1/2 minutes off my marathon PR at Oklahoma City. Going into the Bolder Boulder this year, I was confident that another PR was not only possible, it was extremely likely.

In the days leading up to today's race, I mentally prepared myself by reading and re-reading the "Go Zone Racing" article that Runner's Edge of the Rockies Coach David had emailed in early March, that had been so inspirational at Runnin' of the Green and in Colorado Springs. I also watched the Bolder Boulder course video, narrated by Frank Shorter, from the race website. Each time I watched it, I noted aloud how much time would pass for me to hit my splits. My intent was to finish the race in 50 minutes, so I'd have to average 5 minutes a kilometer, or 8 minutes a mile. No problem! I could feel my adrenaline surging every time I watched the video, and knew that if I could hold on to that feeling during the race, I'd be all set.

Last night, I couldn't sleep. That's usually kind of hit or miss for me: some pre-race nights I have no problem falling asleep, and others (like the night before the Disney World marathon) I'm up to all hours. Last night was one of those--it was nearly midnight before I fell asleep. When my alarm went off at 4 am, I almost went right back to bed! Fortunately, once I got moving, I was awake and ready. Besides, I got up to Boulder early enough that I was able to take about an hour-long nap (of sorts--I kind of drifted in and out) in my car.

When it was nearly time, I made my way towards the starting line, working in a one-mile warmup jog on the way. I reviewed my race strategy in my mind: run fast at the beginning, run fast in the middle, and run fast at the end. ("Why don't more people do that?" "'Cuz they're stupid.") As the start time for my wave inched closer, my adrenaline began to surge. I was strong, I was confident, I was ready. The D wave started out...then DA...DB...DC! It was Go Time! The shot was fired, and we were off! And then...

...tragedy struck! Fifteen feet out of the gate, someone trod on my left heel, forcing me to walk right out of that shoe! For a split second I toyed with the idea of kicking off my other shoe and just running in my socks; but the realization that my timing chip was on that shoe forced me to stop. I also briefly debated the idea of just going back to the starting line and going out with the DD wave; but discarded that idea when I concluded that my timing chip would not reset and I would thus lose precious minutes (really it's amazing how many scenarios played out in my mind in that instant). I grabbed my wayward footwear, shuffled off to the side, and hurriedly re-shod myself, tying the lace again as a precaution. Fortunately, the whole of my wave had run past me and I had a few precious seconds before the next wave started. I managed to get myself straightened out and picked up my running. Unfortunately, I was severely rattled by the experience--although it would be another two miles before I realized how much.

I pushed my pace for a while in an effort to make up my time. I had to reach the first kilometer mark in five minutes to make my split. I did so easily enough, and wound up covering the first mile in exactly eight minutes as well, according to my Garmin. The next three kilometers were also pretty much on pace, and I was still feeling confident that I would finish in my anticipated time. But shortly after that--about 2.5 miles into the race--I started to feel it. I'd pushed hard in the beginning to make up my lost time, and could feel myself starting to tire. Ignoring it, I pushed on, telling myself I'd give myself a brief break at the water stop at the end of the third mile (I hadn't originally planned on stopping at the water breaks, but was just going to run right through them).

After I reached the halfway point--5 kilometers in--my pace started to slip. I was feeling the effects of four hours of sleep the night before and the loss of my mental focus at the start. I ground my teeth and told myself to keep going, and began picking off points in the distance: run to that tree, now to that lamppost, now to that corner. But about halfway through the fourth mile, I slowed to a walk for about 800 feet. I knew it was a mistake--once you let yourself walk once (not counting aid stations), it's easier and easier to let yourself walk again and again. I knew this, but walked anyway.

I started running again before making the next turn, though. Then something interesting happened: I brushed against a female runner--very gently you understand--as I passed her. As I did so, she muttered, rather snidely I thought, "Geez, the whole road's wide open." Now, it was of course unintentional. It is a very crowded race, and I had bumped into, or been bumped by, other runners a handful of times already. And I might have let the matter slide and just kept running, but for whatever reason I chose to respond. Blame it on my lack of focus and frustration at letting my pace slip. "Yes," I said, "But you're over here. And I was going to chat you up for a bit; but now that I see you're a total bitch, I'm going to keep running." Now (gasp) granted (gasp), it loses (gasp) some of its (gasp) sting when (gasp) it comes out (gasp) like this (gasp), but I think she got the message.

I kept running, but by now my pace had definitely slipped and I was no longer going to come in under 50 minutes. I knew I was still in good time to set a new PR, but I was definitely hurting by this time. I gave myself another walk break of just over one tenth of a mile before I finished mile 5; and unfortunately, one more just after I finished it. But with a mile to go, I told myself I would have to keep running. I felt like I was going at a sub-8 minute pace, but in reality I covered the rest of mile 6 at about an 8:10 pace. When I turned the last corner, though, I pushed my pace as hard as I could to cover that last 0.2 miles.

My final time for the race was 51:42.78. So even though I didn't get the time I'd wanted, I still shaved almost 2 minutes off my 10k PR.

After I collected my snack bag, I connected with several members of Runner's Edge to compare notes, including Martha, Kelly, Angela, Ann, Tinka, Jen, Steve H, Stevie Mac, Bret, Carol, Michelle W, Holland, Sarah H, and MoMo. Then I made my way to the Expo area to see if I could find Olympic marathoner and Boston 3rd-place finisher Ryan Hall. I'd heard the announcer in the stadium say something about Ryan being somewhere to sign autographs, but hadn't paid much attention. Worse, everyone I asked in the stadium and field house had no idea what I was talking about. It wasn't until I got to the Expo area that I got my answer--from the giant photo of Ryan Hall at the Nissan tent! ("Oh, he must be over here!") I joined the line and was informed that Ryan would be over to sign autographs in a few moments, after a quick television interview.

So I got to meet Ryan Hall and get his autograph on my race bib. He asked me what my next race was, and I told him I will run the St George (Utah) marathon in October. "Nice!" he said. "Will that be your first marathon?" "No," I replied, "seventh." "That's more than I've done," he commented. "Yeah," I observed, "but I'm not nearly as fast as you." Then I shook his hand and got my picture taken with him. Good times, good times.

Official Time: 51:42.78
Total Races: 9
YTD Race Miles: 85.4
YTD Total Miles: 518.55
US Elite Marathoner Autographs To Date: 3

Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon 2009 Part II

Part II: OKLAHOMA (That's-Duh-Bull-You-Eye-Enn-Dee-Why)

I woke up race day morning eager for a good run. We met up with the Kansas City Runner's Edge group in the hotel lobby and climbed aboard our respective busses. And sure enough, just as it had been all day yesterday, it sure was windy! That was going to slow us down, but Coach David had talked with us about that and I, at least, figured I could handle it. ("Famous last words?" "Just you wait.") At the Memorial, I made my way to the starting corral but, due to a mixup on my part, found myself in the 5k corral entrance rather than the Marathon corral. I pushed myway to the front and entered the Marathon corral about half a block away from the starting line. What this meant was, I would be surrounded at the start by a lot of runners who were going to run a *lot* faster than I was. That was okay, though, as long as I kept my pace slow and didn't let myself get caught up by the crowd and excitement.

I noticed, however, that my Garmin still hadn't picked up a satellite by the time the race started, so I had no idea of my actual pace. I forced myself to stay slow and tried to make my way to the right to get out of the way of the faster runners. Unfortunately, there were so many of them that it took some doing to get out of their way!

My Garmin picked up a signal about 3/4 into the first mile. When I reached the marker for that first mile, I slowed to a quick walk, employing the run/walk strategy I had planned for and trained with. I was still somewhat discombobulated due to my Garmin issues, but worked hard to push that out of my mind and concentrate on the rest of the race. Coach David alway says that the first three miles of a marathon are the most important, and I didn't want to let a bad experience with the first one influence the next two.

I took about 5 miles to really hit my stride. Walking the first 0.1 of each mile meant that I needed to run the remaining 0.9 at about a 10-minute pace to stay on target. I was doing pretty well with this as the course wound its way north and west out of downtown. Even when the course turned due west for a half a mile and the heavy wind came at us from the side, I was able to stay on pace.

The rolling hills in mile 11 posed no real challenge, partly because the wind was at my back again but mostly because they had nothing on Parker. Towards the end of mile 12 I caught sight of a runner wearing a Kansas City Runner's Edge shirt to my left. As I pulled alongside her I called, "Hey, Runner's Edge!" and gave her a thumbs up. A second later I heard, "Hey, Denver!" to my right. I looked, and there was another KC RE member. A quick smile and some words of encouragement helped make that a memorable mile.

I was still feeling pretty strong at the halfway point. I had energy to spare and was still on pace to finish in about 4:30. Actually the mile markers were helpful for this: most of them had signs stating "You are on track to finish between X and Y time," and each one I saw showed a window of between 4:34 and 4:47. When the course turned south just before mile 14, to run along Lake Hefner, finally running directly into the wind, I got my first real taste of what the rest of the day was going to feel like. With no tall buildings to block it, the wind was free to slam into us with the force of a Mack truck. I gritted my teeth, lowered my head, and pushed through. I knew I could still hold my 10-minute pace for the run, and now my short walk breaks would be all the more appreciated.

After leaving Lake Hefner at mile 17, there was a quarter-mile downhill slope. Halfway down it I saw a Denver Runner's Edge shirt. It was Bret, who runs in the same pace group as I! I poured on the speed a bit to catch up to him. ("I couldn't for the life of me figure out when he'd passed me to begin with, because I know I started the race ahead of him." "Was he glad to see you?" "I'd like to think so. We swapped congratulations and I moved on.") It was about this time that I realized that I'd made it farther than any of my other marathons without crashing or having to stop. ("I had stopped once before that point to reapply my Body Glide, but I didn't count that because it was only for a second. And absolutely necessary." "Yes, yes, we all remember your graphic description of your Band Aid issues last year.") Not only that, but I'd even manged to pick up some time, as when I passed one of the mile markers the "on target" sign said "4:17 to 4:32"!

I was still holding myself beween 9:55 and 10:15 miles when I finished mile 20. Now, my original plan had been to maintain my walk breaks until I got to this point, and then just run out the rest of the course. But the wind was so fierce at this point (it may even have increased in intensity), and I still felt so strong, that I decided to stick with what was working. So I kept going, pushing against the wind as the course continued to move south. I kept on through the next 2 miles and my pace only slipped a little. Soon I noticed I was back on track for a 4:34 to 4:47 finish according to the signs. But at mile 22 I started to slow down. I slipped from a 10-minute pace to between 11 and 12:30 for most of the rest of the race.

When I had about a mile to go, though, I dug as deep as I could to find enough energy to run out the rest. I turned onto the home stretch, and the excitement of the moment took over. Seeing the finish line as I crested the last hill added to my depleted energy reserves. Seeing and hearing my RER friends at the 26 mile mark gave me that last extra push to get over the finish. The clock said 4:42:07. My official time would probably be faster by a minute or so; but even if it wasn't, I had just PR'd by almost 15 minutes!

CODA

After I'd finished and collected my medal and finisher's shirt and Carl's Jr cheeseburger, I joined my friends at mile 26. There we cheered for the runners coming in, including the remaining RER folks. We returned to the hotel, cleaned up, and packed up before hitting the road.

The bus ride back was lots of fun as we swapped stories and congratulations and drank celebratory drink after celebratory drink. ("After celebratory drink after celebratory drink after..." "Watch it! You're going to give the impression that all we do is drink and run." "Your point being?") We all had a lot to be very proud of: in very difficult race conditions everyone had performed remarkably well, including 4 full marathon PRs and 4 half marathon PRs!

Official Time: 4:40:36
Total Races: 8
YTD race miles: 79.2
YTD total miles: 436.75
"Best" post-race celebratory drink: "Mad Dog" 20/20 wine thanks to Steve

Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon 2009 Part I

Part I: OKLAHOMA (Oh-Kay-Ell-Ay-Aitch-Oh-Emm-Ay)!

Another out-of-state marathon, another Runner's Edge of the Rockies road trip.

The bus arrived late. A dozen of us were already waiting, standing around the Best Buy parking lot, *clearly* a tour group in need of transportation. When the bus did arrive it parked on the far side of the parking lot! ("It's a good thing you don't believe in signs or premonitions or anything like that, then, isn't it?") Randy volunteered to jog across and point out the obvious, and soon that whole matter was straightened out. Once all 30 of us were loaded up onto the bus, we were off! ("Was it, finally, the giant behemoth Barney bus that you didn't get either of the last two times?" "No, in fact, it was the same white bus we'd had...both of the last two times." "I'm beginning to think Barney doesn't even exist." "No, I've seen pictures." "Yeah, I've seen pictures of Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster, too.")

After a quick stopover in Burlington for some breakfast and a quick driver change ("You chased the first driver off after only a few hours?"), it was time for Introductions and Ice Breakers. Part of the Introduction included what we all do for a living, and it turns out that half the group are in espionage! ("I'd tell you what I do for a living but then I'd have to kill you?" "Exactly." "Fun crowd!") The Icebreaker game was Two Truths & A Lie. Everybody wrote down... ("No, wait, don't tell me, let me guess.") Then we had to guess a) whose clues were whose and b) which was the lie. It was a pretty challenging game, actually, with some very random facts about everyone on the bus. Anyway, I apparently don't know any of those people at all. ("Aren't these your friends?" "The sad thing is, nobody had any trouble figuring out which was mine--and which was my lie. Apparently, I am that transparent.")

For entertainment we broke out Running on the Sahara, a documentary about three guys who did exactly that. It was actually a very interesting film. Not only were there the logistics of running over 4300 miles, including having medical support and food supplied the entire way, there were also political issues: at first the government of Libya didn't want to let them cross that country to get to Egypt, and they had to face the possibility of crossing through Sudan instead, which would have been extremely dangerous. It was also fascinating to watch the three runners' respective personalities come into conflict, especially when the group leader seemed willing to sacrifice anything to finish the goal. ("Which they did, of course." "Naturally, although it wasn't easy for them." "Kind of makes you glad the most you're ever going to tackle is 26.2, eh?" "Never say never...")

After lunch at Wendy's in Hayes, Kansas, we put in Run, Fatboy, Run, a comedy about a guy who leaves his pregnant girlfriend at the altar ("Sounds like a winner!"), and then runs a marathon to try to win her back. It's a very funny movie whether you've run a marathon or not; but I think it's funnier if you have.

We arrived in Oklahoma City at exactly 7:00 pm. ("Score one for Coach David's itinerary!") An hour later, having unpacked and settled in, we met in the lobby to decide where to go to dinner. After some discussion we settled on the Macaroni Grill, less than half a mile away. About 20 of us made the walk along a street with no sidewalks or crosswalks to speak of. Then, of course, we had to figure out how to get all 20 of us seated as quickly as possible. ("Don't tell me. Nobody called ahead again, right? When are you going to figure out that what happened in Kansas City was pretty much a lightning strike of good fortune?" "A man can dream, can't he?")

We actually managed to get seated fairly quickly when we agreed to take whatever was available. I found myself sharing a table with Randy, Karen, and Jeff, seated right next to Dan, Jill, Kari, Suzi, and Annette who fortuitously happened to be at the same restaurant. Service at dinner was...not great. It took some time for our food to arrive; and no sooner had it than the waitress spilled a glass of ice water right into mine and Randy's respective plates. ("I'd barely had time to eat a mouthful of noodles and one shrimp!") It took almost as long for us to get our replacement dinners, but thankfully from that moment on the meal was incident-free. Then we had only to make our way back along the sidewalk-less road to the hotel. ("You talk like it's a bad thing. Didn't you ever play Frogger growing up?" "Funny thing about that game, though: you can win as often as you like, but in this case at least, you can really only lose once.")

I slept pretty well on Friday night--I think we all did. Funny how sitting for a 10-hour bus ride can make you very, very tired.

Saturday morning we got up for an easy 3-mile run around Lake Hefner, along the northernmost portion of the race course. This was our first exposure to the wind we would be facing during the run, and it was pretty consistent. Where it did break, however, the humidity kicked in. Given the choice, I decided, I'd rather take the wind.

After the run several of us went to a nearby pancake house for breakfast. I heard some mixed reviews about the food, but I for one had three of the most delicious blueberry pancakes I've ever eaten. ("I think I've found a new favorite pancake house." "Too bad it's three states away." "Tell me. It would be the most expensive $5 plate of pancakes ever.")

Later that morning we took a partial tour of the course. ("One of the perks of having our own chartered bus.") We drove from about the midpoint to about mile 8, and then through the neighborhoods of the final few miles of the course--what Coach David described as the hilliest parts of the course. As with when we did this in Kansas City, it was useful to see the kinds of hills and neighborhoods we would be facing. It was also nice to see that the streets were pretty flat and didn't curve down at the gutters as steeply as the ones in Denver do. That means we could run close to the gutter and not worry about feeling too lopsided. Seeing some of the landmarks near the end of the course was nice, too, as they would then provide visual cues to let us know we were about finished. ("Provided you remembered them, of course." "Yes, well...")

After the course tour we made our way to the Expo to get our bibs and timing chips and other stuff. I also had the pleasure of hearing Bill Rodgers (4-time Boston Marathon winner, 4-time NY Marathon winner) and Joan Benoit Samuelson (2-time Boston Marathon winner, Olympic Gold Medalist) speak, and got Bill's autograph and a picture of us courtesy of Jen. Later we made our way to Bricktown for lunch. At Jen's recommendation, we ate at the Bricktown Brewery. The 20 or so of us that were there took over the entire bar area and had some fantastic food. I also spent some time chatting up the very cute waitress, trying to convince her to come out and cheer for us at the race. ("'Us'?" "Okay, fine. Me.")

That night we had dinner at the Oklahoma City Memorial. The food quality was *much* better than what had been served at Omaha. After dinner some of us spent some time walking around the memorial. It's quite amazing, actually. One hundred sixty-eight empty chairs on a large lawn represent the victims of the tragedy. There's a lovely and peaceful reflecting pool along what used to be 5th Avenue, and south of that is the Survivor Tree--a large elm tree that survived the explosion. Not part of the official Memorial but equally as moving is the Jesus Wept statue across the street along fifth, an eight-foot high statue of Jesus, turned away from the Memorial with his hand over his eyes, which had been erected by the nearby church. It was all very moving.

Back at the hotel, I hung out with some members of the Kansas City Runner's Edge group. This is the Original Runner's Edge, from whom Coach David got the idea for my group. I enjoyed spending some time chatting with them before heading up to bed to do a last gear check and get some sleep before the Big Race.