Bear Chase Trail Race Half Marathon 2011

First, a quick apology: this post is almost a month late. Between work, running, and rehearsals, I've had almost no time to work on it. I'm getting to be as bad as Doug Sr was with the Christmas Letter (that typically came out in March...).

My first-ever trail race was also my first race back, three weeks after injuring myself at the Disneyland Half Marathon. THAT was pretty heartbreaking, let me tell you. Three and a half miles into the Happiest Race on Earth(TM), and I hit a curb wrong and rolled my ankle. Dropping out of that race was probably the most difficult decision I've made lately, but certainly it was the smartest. Taking three weeks to rest and recover meant I was in a much better place to take on the Bear Chase.

Of course, it helped that I'd have plenty of friends on the course. The Race Director is none other than David Manthey, Coach of Runner's Edge of the Rockies. Plenty of my RER and Runner's Roost teammates were signed up to run the various distances of this race (10k, half marathon, 50k, 50-mile), and many more were out on the course volunteering at the aid stations.

I started out in a pretty good place in the crowd. I had plenty of friends near me, and figured I would hang with them for the first mile or so, then see how I'd feel about moving up or falling back. Actually the first mile went by just perfectly. The weather was nice and cool, and the course at that point had some nice coverage. So before I knew it, I was pushing my way forward through the crowd because I was just feeling great. Although, when I say "pushing," I mean I was waiting for an opening to surge forward a bit before settling back into my pace. After all, the course was on a singletrack trail with very little shoulder, and I wasn't about to try any weaving through the underbrush on either side and risk tripping myself up or worse. But when the trail would widen a bit, I'd take advantage and move forward in the pack, then ease my pace off to match the runner in front of me until another opportunity to advance presented itself.

After about five miles of this I'd made my way to the front of the pack. Now when I say "the front of the pack," I mean the pack of runners that were going about my pace. As my readers and friends know, I'm a solid front-of-the-middle-of-the-pack runner, which I do consider an improvement from my days as a back-of-the-middle-of-the-packer, or even a front-of-the-back-of-the-pack guy. I pride myself on typically coming in certainly in the top half, often in the top third, and even occasionally in the top quarter of finishers of a given race (I've even had a few top-ten finishes, at very small races). Today, I'd started sort of towards the back of the midpackers, again because I was trying to be cautious post-injury. But as the morning was nice and I was doing pretty well and moving forward, I found myself leading the middle-of-the-pack group. That is, I believed I was leading them. It's entirely possible that I was leading the front-of-the-middle group, or even the back-of-the-middle group. My point is, it had taken about five miles for the runners to spread out enough that I suddenly found myself without a runner immediately in front of me.

I will admit that this is not always my most comfortable position to be in, because I tend to get lost easily. Ask anyone who's tried to follow me on a weekly run from the Denver Runner's Roost: no matter how many times we've run the same route, I will invariably miss a turn, or take it a block early. At least there, I can generally figure out how to get back. Out here, I had no idea where anything was. So I trusted that the course was marked well enough that I'd stay on the path, and that I'd sooner or later catch up to runners that I could follow (and hope they weren't as geographically challenged as myself). Which in fact I did, about a half mile later.

After that it was time for the first serious climb of the course, up the Mt Carbon Loop Trail. It's pretty short, but steep. My pace slowed to a jog for this climb. When I got to the top and looked back down at where I'd come from, it was pretty breathtaking. Then there was a nice steep descent, where I was able to make up some of the time I'd lost on that first climb. I was now slightly more than halfway through with my run, and had been running for just over an hour. I felt strong and relaxed and looking forward to the rest of the race.

A few miles later, I crossed the Bear Creek for the three water crossings. I'd never done water crossings before, but I had some idea what to expect from people that ran the race last year. "The water's not deep," I was told, "but the stones are pretty slippery. Watch out!" I took my time through the first one, and sure enough could feel the slimy rocks trying to take my feet out from under me. But it wasn't too bad, so I thought I'd push it a bit more on the second one. Sure enough, halfway across I started to lose my balance. I recovered just in time and did NOT fall; but the photographer I think got a great shot of me about to. ("Too bad he didn't keep it. That could've been your Christmas Card!")

The second aid station was a welcome sight, thanks to all my friends who were volunteering there. Shouted words of encouragement fueled me up as much as the M&Ms as I prepared to face off against the last 5 miles of the course, and the next long ascent. As the trail wound uphill over the next two miles, and I felt the full heat of the sun now that I was out of the woods, my pace slowed a bit. It was a long stretch, and I wanted to push harder, but I didn't have it in me. I walked up some of the steeper portions of this incline, trying to bring my energy back to how I'd felt on the first climb when I'd at least been able to jog. But, I couldn't make myself move any faster. I remember seeing two scrub bushes halfway up one incline face, one on either side of the trail, and telling myself that I would jog up to them and walk the rest of the hill. As I go to that point, I remember thinking that my heart went out to anyone who was running the 50k or 50-miler, because they would have to pass this point three times to finish their race. ("You mean, your hat goes off to them." "I know what I said.")

Soon after this, I started being passed by runners who were doing the 50k race (which had started before the half marathon), finishing their second loop(!). One of them, a short guy with red hair, called out encouragingly to me. "Keep it up, you're doing great!" he said. "Less than 5k to go," I grunted back. "Well come on," he said. "Stick with me, you can do it!" But I couldn't. I let him go on ahead as I concentrated on the trail in front of me.

(That, I will say, is my one major regret: I was so paranoid about tripping and hurting myself that I spent 90% of my time looking about two feet in front of me, rather than at the beautiful park. I think I missed a lot.)

At the last aid station, with about 2 1/2 miles to go, I gave myself a few extra seconds to rest before going on. I'd been running for just over an hour and a half, doing much better than I'd expected. I didn't think a sub-2 hour finish was going to happen, but I could certainly make it close. Of course, the first half of mile 12 was a pretty steep uphill, which slowed me a bit. But once I got past that, I was able to pick up my pace. Running with some other half marathoners, we encouraged each other as we realized the finish was drawing ever closer. I remember passing another runner in the last mile who looked like he was definitely struggling. "Come on," I exhorted him (as best I could given my own breathless state). "Last mile." Then, "Less than three quarters!" "Less than a half mile! Just twice around the track!" Admittedly, these were as much for my benefit as his. I also took advantage of the nice steep downhill in the last half of that last mile. And seeing friends as course marshalls in the last quarter was another great boost for my spirit and my tired legs.

Then, suddenly, there it was! As I came down to the boat ramp parking lot beside Bear Creek Lake, the finish line loomed in all its glory. And, just a bit ahead of me, was the 50k runner who'd encouraged me a few miles earlier. I poured on my last bust of speed, shouting at him as I pulled alongside, and sprinting to my own finish.

Official Time: 2:06:53
YTD Race Miles: 103.3
YTD Total Miles: 902.8
Tunnel Vision: My girlfriend Anita had come to the finish line to cheer me on. I'm embarassed to say I didn't see her, because (as always happens) I only had eyes for the finish line. But, she tracked me down afterward, and I think she forgives me.

Georgetown Half Marathon 2011

I was very excited about this race this year. Runner's Edge of the Rockies were the official pacers for the race, and I was pacing the 2:10 runners. I was looking forward to the chance to lead a group of runners to the finish, encouraging them along the way and (maybe) helping them reach a new PR.

This was the first year for our group to act as pacers for this race, so there was definitely the possibility of a make-it-up-as-we go attitude. Fortunately Coach Manthey had it pretty well wired: he'd ordered pace bands for each of us, plus we all had our Garmins, so we would know exactly how fast to run each mile. My co-pacer for this race was Lynn, with whom I had trained for my summer race. I was confident that we'd be able to hold the pace we needed to finish in 2 hours and 10 minutes--and that Lynn would be able to hold me back from going too fast, which I sometimes have a tendency to do.

In fact the first three miles were almost exactly on pace (despite my shooting right out of the gate and pushing the pace for the first quarter mile before Lynn was able to rein me in). The next few miles, however, picked up some serious time, so that by the halfway point we were about two minutes ahead of schedule. Lynn was a fantastic cheerleader, whooping it up as we finished each mile with words of encouragement. I tried to match her enthusiasm, but was honestly fretting too much over keeping myself on pace. That's something I'll have to work on before running the Denver Rock N Roll Half in October.

Funny story: there were two young guys who ran with us as we went under the arch that marked the 10k split. Why the arch was at 10k instead of the halfway point I don't quite know; but these guys thought it was the halfway point. So when they ran under it, they started belting out Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer," specifically the first line of the chorus: "Wo-oah, we're halfway there..." They were so enthused I felt kinda bad about raining on their parade by telling them that no, we were not quite yet halfway there.

We stayed pretty consistent with our pace for the second half of the race. We were still about 2 minutes ahead of where we should have been, but at least we weren't picking up any more time. In the last 5k, and especially the last mile, I really tried putting on the brakes, but not to the point that I was going to slow us to a walk. I figured at the worst, we'd be about 2 minutes ahead of our goal time, but there was no point in stopping to ensure a 2:09:59 finish exactly. After all, this was my first time pacing a race! And--honestly--there wasn't a big group of runners that had stuck with us the entire time. This was the first year Georgetown had ever had pacers, so I think a lot of the runners didn't know about us. Lynn and I had a few runners that started with us and fell back, a few that had started ahead of us whom we caught on the course, and a few runners that started with us and pulled ahead (including the two singers). But there were only a few that ran with us the entire time. And since they all finished under 2 hours and 10 minutes, I think they were happy. And I'm certianly proud of any inspiration or leadership that I may have provided along with Lynn during the race.

Official Time: 2:08:09
YTD Race Miles: 90.2
YTD Total Miles: 806.2
Sorry, Can't Stay: Right after the race, I had to drive to Lowry for an audition. I made it just as the director was about to leave. The good news is, I'm now appearing in Spotlight Theatre's Wait Until Dark! Get your tickets here...

Donor Dash 5k 2011

INJURY!!

I'm pretty upset about this. This was shaping up to be a really great race, probably another PR, and after the halfway point I fell apart. But let me start at the beginning.

Toeing the line at the start, I was ready to have a very fast race. I'd had a solid 14-mile run the day before, and had gotten plenty of rest. One of the things I've been doing this season is going out for a hard run (or as hard as I can handle) the day after my long runs, to get accustomed to running fast after a long distance. My hope is that this will help me keep an edge in the last 5k of my Disneyland Half Marathon in September. Running a Sunday race is the perfect chance to push myself. And, the Donor Dash is a personal favorite. It's the one race a year that my whole family runs too. In fact this year it was extra special since my kid sister Maggie and her husband Marty brought their new baby, my nephew Dax!

So when the gun went off, I shot out at about a 6:45 pace (I think. I don't wear my Garmin for 5ks any more). I held that for the first quarter mile or so, then eased off slightly to about 7:00. As I approached the 1-mile mark, I was pleased to see the lead vehicle not too far ahead of me--not that I was right behind it, of course, but the fact that I still had it in my sights was a good omen. I told myself I wouldn't let it get so far ahead of me that I couldn't see it.

Once I passed the 1-mile mark, though, I felt an odd twinge in my left hamstring. But it was just a momentary flash, and didn't continue to hurt, so I kept running. I backed off my pace slightly, but only very slightly. Unfortunately, as I continued to run, the twinge came back. It wasn't painful, just kind of annoying, like a dull ache. I thought I could run through it, and tried to; but as I kept going it continued to get worse. Finally, at about mile 1.7, I slowed to a walk. Walking at least eased the pain, and at the 2-mile mark I felt ready to give running another try--but definitely slower this time.

I started running again, holding about a 9-minute pace this time. Almost immediately the dull throb came back, but I convinced myself that I could hold out this pace for the last mile. At least, as I ran at a slower speed, it didn't get any worse. I told my hamstring that if it would just hold out till the end of the race, I'd give it a nice icy rubdown and take a few days off to let it rest up. It seemed willing... But just when I was thinking that I was home free, with a quarter mile to go and the finish line in my sights, something...rippled. That's really the only way to describe it. I felt a wave of pain flash up my leg, starting just behind my knee. I stopped running. Grinding my teeth in frustration, I limped towards the finish line.

When I was less than a hundred meters from the finish, I heard the announcer over the PA shouting "Here come the firemen!" I looked behind me and saw four firemen, in full gear, running next to each other. Naturally they were gaining on me. I was determined not to finish behind those guys, so I quote-unquote "ran" as fast as I could. Given the pain in my left leg, and my limp, I'm sure I looked ridiculous. But I finished before the firemen (barely).

Official Time: 26:18
YTD Race Miles: 87.1
YTD Total Miles: 767.6
Roost Winners: With the exception of yours truly (and I still finished under 27 minutes), everyone from the Roost Team posted very good results. Big props to Heather, who took home the Win!

Lyons River Run 5k 2011

Thanks to Simon at RunColo.com, I scored a free entry to this race. He'd put a notice on Facebook asking people to submit their times from their last 5ks, and my 21:45 from last week's Father's Day race snagged me a spot. Of course, Simon's idea had been to take the two closest times and square them off against each other, and the person he'd selected to go against me had run her 5k in 20:44! That was a bit daunting. Unfortunately (or, from my perspective, perhaps fortunately), that person was unable to make the race after all, so I lucked out there.

However, I did see a familiar face up there that morning: the guy who had pulled ahead of me in the last mile at last week's race! Looked like I'd have a race on my hands after all. I was still a bit miffed that he'd beaten me in Arvada (by three seconds!), so now was my chance to even the score. Not that I'm super competitive or anything.

(I did see another familiar face--my buddy Double-N from Runner's Edge. He'd come up with his whole family to run the race. Shout out to them!)

My new Garmin arrived in the mail earlier in the week. But I decided not to wear it for the race. I hadn't worn it in Arvada last week, and had felt kind of free--I'd had no urge to glance down to check my pace, running instead entirely by feel, and wound up really pushing myself. So I thought I'd try the same thing for this race, and not worry about looking down and having to tell myself to pick it up or slow down to avoid burnout. I did, however, have my iPod, ready to go and fully charged.

I didn't exactly shoot out of the gate at a sub-seven minute mile. There was a pretty good sized crowd for this race, bigger than Arvada last week, and it took a solid half mile anyway to loosen up. I was able to get some space by taking one turn a bit wider than most everyone else (which also helped me avoid some pretty badly chewed up asphalt in favor of a smoother section of the road). I was still probably going an 8-minute pace for that first part, and once I got away from the crowd a bit I picked that up to about 7-minute pace. Or so--as I said last week, I'm very bad at estimating that without my Garmin.

However fast I was going, I was definitely making progress through the crowd. I also knew that I'd pull ahead of people during the climb at the end of the first mile. Just before the 1-mile mark, I eased back (only slightly) on my effort, settling into what I thought was a pace I could hold for the rest of the race. It wound up being a pace that I could hold for about the next mile. I felt myself slowing down (only a bit) after I passed the two mile mark. It was very warm, and I was a bit tired. Not that I'd slowed down a lot, I was still going at a decent clip. If I had to guess (I'm a terrible guesser, have I mentioned that?), I'd say I was running a 7:30. Still speedy, but not nearly as fast as last week. But I know I was slowing down, because I was being passed by people I'd passed earlier.

One of the runners who passed me at this point was a blonde woman with a paw print tattoo on her left calf. I remembered passing her in the first mile; when she pulled ahead of me I told myself I wouldn't let her out of my sight. If I thought I could pull it off, I'd try to pass her again before the finish; but at the very least, I'd keep right behind her. I chased her down all along that last mile, but never quite managed to catch her. I spoke with her afterward, and she said that she knew I was right behind her because she heard me breathing! Apparently I'm a very noisy breather, and this isn't the first race where somebody's said that.

So I couldn't catch my little rabbit, and I didn't set a new PR. But I had a very good race, and really only missed my PR by 20 seconds or so. I beat the guy who'd beaten me last week though, and by a bigger margin. But I also learned that I can run a pretty solid short race without my Garmin, and have decided to continue not using it for 5ks, and maybe anything short of a 10-mile race. Big congrats to everyone who ran this race, and especially Double-N and his family!

Official Time: 22:06
YTD Race Miles: 84
YTD Total Miles: 687
Post-race Indulgence: Cinnamon rolls!

Father's Day 5k 2011

I discovered this race in Arvada back in 2009, when I had decided to run a 5k every month. I signed myself and my dad up, and we both had fun running the race and then checking out the classic car show. Now, it's become a tradition.

I had high hopes going into this race. I felt pretty well recovered from my Steamboat marathon two weeks earlier. I hadn't had a 5k PR in two years, so I figured I was due. And I knew that this smaller race on a relatively flat course could offer a pretty good chance for a new best time. Plus, my streak was back on: starting with the Runnin' of the Green in March, I'd set four PRs in as many races.

I didn't have my Garmin for this race. After four years of relatively faithful service (well, three years of faithful service and a year of sometimes-adequate service--it did die on me in two marathons), I'd finally sent it in for replacement a few days before. So I would have to run this race entirely by feel. I was worried at the time. I'm used to being able to look down and tell myself to speed up or slow down, and I wouldn't have that luxury-slash-handicap at this race. (Of course, I didn't remember at the time that I'd had a similar situation when I ran the Cherry Creek Sneak: even though I had my Garmin with me, I deliberately chose not to look at it, deciding instead to run by feel. And that race was a PR for me.)

So I have no idea how fast I ran my warmup miles. If I had to guess I'd say they were about 9:00 pace. Whatever the pace, they felt good. I loosened up, threw in some strides towards the end, and got my heart pumping.

The race started a few minutes late, just like last year. The delay was due to the increased number of runners and folks arriving last-minute to get checked in, just like last year. The race was started with the wail of a fire engine, which was new this year. And kind of neat, except that there was no countdown for it; the siren just went off, and after a split second we all started running. (This marks the second race in a row that didn't have a countdown. The last one was the Steamboat marathon. And that race was a PR for me.)

Ten steps into my race, my iPod crashed. I have no idea what happened, it just stopped playing music. I fished it out of the pocket and tapped some buttons, but couldn't get it to play again. I tucked it away and tried to channel my frustration into running. For a few seconds I suddenly felt very tired, the way I sometimes do after an adrenaline rush wears off. In that moment, I knew I wasn't going to have a great race. Not because I was suddenly bereft of music (although that was annoying), but because I suddenly didn't have any energy. But I squashed that feeling down as best I could and focused on my breathing instead.

It seemed to do the trick. I was keeping pace with the other runners around me, and moving at what I told myself was probably a 7:00 mile. I knew I'd be able to bank some time on the forthcoming downhill, too. I took advantage of that downhill to move forward a bit in the pack, passing a few people before we turned towards the one mile mark.

A volunteer at the one mile mark was obligingly calling out splits, which is how I know I hit the first mile in 6:44. I was blown away! I mean, I've run a faster mile, but that was at a one-mile race. This was the fastest first mile of any race I'd ever run. I did some quick mental math and realized that I could slow to a 7:30 pace for the rest of the race and still PR. Of course, without my Garmin telling me how fast I was running, that conclusion was meaningless. Instead I did a quick systems check to see if I could hold this pace for the next two miles, and decided I could certainly try.

The second mile felt pretty much as fast as the first. Actually it felt a bit slower, but not by much. If I had to guess I'd say I fell to a 6:50 to 6:55 pace. Unfortunately I'm a terrible guesser when it comes to my own running pace. Based on my finishing time, the reality is, I probably fell closer to 7:15. And since the volunteer at that mile was not calling out splits, I have no idea what it actually was. But I still felt good and had fairly high energy.

I was only passed by three runners in the last mile. Two of them were high school girls, who were (according to the shouts of spectators and volunteers) the third and fourth girls overall. The third was a male runner whom I'd passed in the first half mile and had spent much of the second mile fighting off as best I could. Unfortunately by this time I was starting to run out of steam. I pushed as much as I could, but he pulled ahead of me for good with just over a quarter mile to go.

As we turned off the street and onto the path for the final quarter mile, I kicked it into overdrive. At least, I tried to. At that point my overdrive wasn't much faster than what I'd been running. I probably pushed myself to just under 7:00 pace for that last bit, but again the bottom line is I have no idea how fast I was running and am a terrible guesser. All I know is, I ran faster for that last quarter mile, but it didn't feel like much. Then I saw the finish clock less than a tenth of a mile away. To my amazement and joy, it read 21:30. I wish I could say that I sprinted that last distance (I really wish I could say that I caught the guy who had passed me), but I didn't. But I still crossed the finish line before the clock turned over 22 minutes.

After the race, I hung around long enough to sneak a peek at the preliminary results. According to the printout, my time was 21:50, which was a 69-second PR! Later that evening I checked online, and my final time was five seconds faster than that! My streak continues: five PRs in as many races.

Official Time: 21:45
YTD Race Miles: 80.9
YTD Total Miles: 670.1
Place: 37th overall, 10th in AG

Steamboat Marathon 2011

This blog is a few days late. But I choose to think of it as being a few weeks early. After all my original plan was to run the Seattle Rock N Roll Marathon at the end of June, not Steamboat Springs at the beginning. But, such is life. And it may have turned out for the best...

I joined Glenn and Carrie from Runner's Edge of the Rockies on the drive up to Steamboat. We had a great time chatting and listening to music. Definitely Springtime in the Rockies! We were a little worried about how high the Yampa River was (as in, almost to the bottom of every bridge that crossed it), but we had been assured by the race directors in a recent email that the road for the race was still dry, and that the race was still on! ("Funny, I never would've thought that it might not be. What would they have done if they'd had to cancel it?") First stop in town was at the Expo, where I got my race stuff and spent some time chatting with a few Runner's Roost teammates. Dinner that night was at Cugino's, one of a few Italian restaurants in town. There were about two dozen of us from Runner's Edge, basically taking over a corner of the place. Plus, everybody else in town was eating there too. ("So, what, service was slow I'm guessing?" "Only slightly.")

Early Sunday morning, I was on a bus to the marathon start. I had everything I would need for the race. I also had a throwaway shirt, throwaway pants, and a throwaway jacket. ("Also arm warmers, gloves, hat, tights, vest, jacket..." "It's June!" "Yeah, at 8,000 feet! Remember what happened on Day 1 of the Bicycle Tour?") On the way up, I tried to pay attention to the feel of the hills. Going down the first hill, which would translate to the last climb of the race, I remember thinking that it didn't seem so bad. ("Let's see if you still feel that way after 23 miles!") At the top, I touched base with Carol, Amy, and Marissa from Team Roost, and also Laura and Sheila from Team RER. We wished each other good luck and got ready to run.

The start was sort of funny. There was a woman with a megaphone who had been announcing, "Seven minutes to the start...six minutes to the start...five minutes..." and so on; so naturally I assumed there'd be some kind of final countdown for the last ten or at least five seconds. Well, if there was, I didn't hear it. Instead, the gun suddenly went off! Good thing I wasn't right on the front line! ("Of course, if you had been, you might have heard the count!")

During the first few warmup miles, I remember feeling very inconsistent. I knew the paces I wanted to hit, but for some reason had difficulty staying on them. I'd feel like I was on pace, but my Garmin would tell me I was going too fast. So I'd try to slow down, and overcompensate. But after the first four miles (including the first big uphill climb), I hit the long downhill stretch. It was time for me to bank some time. But even here I wound up running too fast for a lot of it. I'd planned on holding a steady 8:31 pace for this big downhill, but I wound up all over the map. Some of my splits were closer to 8:17, and at any given time I'd look at my Garmin and see I was running even faster than that! Over the course of the next ten or so miles, I averaged about 8:20 pace.

Then there was the surprise uphill just past the halfway point. As is my wont, I'd been studying the course map for the last week or so--the elevation chart, really. And that chart didn't really show a climb at mile 14. So that was a bit of annoying. Still, that was an 8:30 mile. And I was still feeling really good. I was a little ahead of my pace, and managing to stay hydrated despite the lack of aid stations because I was carrying my own Gatorade. My walk breaks every mile were fairly quick, because it's easy to walk fast when you're walking downhill, but were giving me a small rest and chance to reset. The miles were just flying by.

When I finished mile 20 and my Garmin read 2:54:55, I knew I was going to have a sub-4 hour race. Even if I slowed to a 10-minute pace till te end, I'd still achieve my goal. Naturally, I didn't intend to do that: I still wanted to keep running and maybe even finish under 3:55! Little did I realize that I'd need every second of the time I'd been banking up so far.

For almost the next 5k I was actually in pretty decent shape, although I was running a bit slower than I had been (deliberately. I'd slowed my pace a little bit, hoping to offset that by taking less walk breaks--every other mile). Then that last, long uphill climb happened. The hill seemed a lot longer and teeper than it had four hours earlier on the ride up. Fortunately, the weather was still cooperating. It had been pretty overcast and cool all morning.

The last 5k into town was pretty torturous. It was finally starting to get warm, and I was definitely running out of steam. I walked a few short stretches in miles 23 and 24, then picked it up to a jogging shuffle for the end. I tried to draw energy from the spectators (now that I was in town there were more of them). That helped, but my calves started spasming due to dehydration, which really scared me. I was afraid they'd give out on me and I'd go down and not be able to get back up. I really can't overstate how legitimately terrifying that thought was.

Running down Lincoln, I finally could see the finish line in the distance. "Eleven blocks!" shouted a spectator. It looked so far away! I looked down for a few moments, then looked back up. It didn't look any closer!

The RER crew less than a quarter mile from the end was a truly welcome sight. Despite how strong everyone says I looked when I reached them, I was really struggling, and my calves were shaking so bad I was sure I was going to fall. As I ran past, I called out (begged, really) for someone to run with me to the finish. Good ole Bret, who had driven to about mile 21 to get some pictures earlier, didn't hesitate. He ran alongside me, shouting encouragement. I focused on his words instead of my spasming legs, and on the finishing clock as it edged towards 3:59:00. I crossed the finish line just as it reached that time. My Garmin said 3:58:51. I'd done it! After chasing a sub-4 finish since the very beginning, and dealing with coming close last year in Cleveland, the heartbreak of falling apart halfway through Chicago, and the demoralizing failure at New Orleans, I'd finally done it.

I was beyond thrilled, but also a bit surprised. Between this and my consistently good races at the Georgetown to Idaho Springs over the lasts few years, I always seem to perform well at altitude. Better than I tend to do at lower elevation. I have no idea why that is, but I suspect humidity is the culprit. I think that's what did me in at NOLA (I know it was the heat that killed me in Chicago). Nashville, Disney World, and Omaha were all warm and humid races, and not my top performers. On the other hand, windy OKC and elevated (comparatively) St George were great races for me! Clearly, I have issues running in humidity.

Now, for the honor roll! Big props go to my Runner's Roost and Runner's Edge teammates. Amy S took the women's win for the second year running. ("Before the race, I asked her if she was going to try to defend her title. She said she wasn't too concerned about it; she wasn't running with a watch, and just wanted to have a 'fun' race." "Well, I imagine she'd qualify a second title as 'fun'!") Carol S and Sheila D both ran good races, as did Marissa M and Laura C. Jeannene G took 3rd in her AG at the 10k, and Denice M took 1st in hers (and 4th overall). Once again, I'm honored and humbled and blessed to be a part of such great teams!

Official Time: 3:58:47
YTD Race Miles: 77.8
YTD Total Miles: 656
Mid-race bathroom breaks: 0

Cherry Creek Sneak 5-mile 2011

It all started with a wager.

In March, I texted my younger sister with a challenge: if she would sign up for the Cherry Creek Sneak 5k, I'd sign up for the 5-mile, and we'd see who had a faster overall time. I felt pretty confident that I could win that bet. I knew I could run the race in just under 40 minutes; after all, I'd finished the Runnin' of the Green in under 33, and this was only a half mile more. Heck, if I really pushed it, I could probably run the Sneak in 37 minutes. Meanwhile my sister would probably finish her race somewhere between 39 and 41 minutes. So I made the challenge. To my delight, she accepted. Then I looked at my training schedule.

I'm currently training for the Steamboat marathon on June 5 (changed from Seattle on June 25 for financial reasons). Imagine my chagrin when I noticed that the Sneak was scheduled the day after a 20-mile training run! When I realized this, I only-half-jokingly told my sister that she'd have to give me a handicap of five minutes. She laughed at that and said there was no way, because "You always seem to surprise yourself when you race." After a bit more teasing, on race-day morning she finally relented and agreed to a two-minute handicap. She also agreed to the stakes: loser buys the winner a massage.

Sunday morning was quite chilly and somewhat overcast. Perfect for running, not great for standing around waiting. Since the 5k was scheduled to start at 8, and the 5-mile at 9:15, I saw Sara off at the start of her race and was able to cheer her in when she finished. Since there was no finishing clock and she hadn't started her Nike iPod correctly, she wasn't sure what her time was. We figured about 41 minutes. Since I thought it very unlikely that I was going to run much faster than 8:30 pace (if that!), I was glad she'd agreed to a 2-minute handicap!

I seeded myself right at the front of the 9-10 minute pace area. When the starting gun went off, I shuffled my way forward along with everybody else, then cranked my iPod and broke into a run. I also started my Garmin, but told myself I wasn't going to look at it--after all, my sister had had no idea what her time or pace was, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know mine. Running along Cherry Creek Drive North to Colorado, waiting for the crowd to loosen up a bit, I settled into what felt to me like a 9-to-9:30 pace, right where I felt I could stay for the whole race. We turned onto Colorado, then came back along Cherry Creek Drive South to finish the first mile. As I ran by, a volunteer was calling out times: "Nine forty-four! Nine forty-five! Nine forty-six!" That felt just about right to me. One mile was down and I was feeling pretty okay, so I decided to turn up the intensity just a little bit for the second mile. I pushed myself to what I thought was probably a 9-minute pace. I resisted the urge to confirm that by looking at my Garmin by simply pretending I wasn't wearing it. Instead, I focused on my music, and on my form: leaning forward slightly, shoulders relaxed, landing on my midfoot, legs under me and not too far ahead, then pushing off behind me (what Coach Manthey once referred to as "controlled falling").

Just before I reached the 2-mile mark (call it 1.95), Metallica happened. "All Nightmare Long" is an 8-minute song. Now, I was actually feeling really solid at this point, not tired or stiff, and with plenty of energy. Plus, we were about to turn south on University and climb up to Alameda--the only real hill on this course. Not only that, but since the course turned north on University at Alameda, it meant I'd have a chance to see some of my Runner's Roost teammates coming the other way. All these factors combined to convince me that I could finish mile 3 before that song was over. (This was not the first time a Metallica song pushed me to run faster: last year, "Master of Puppets," another 8-minute song, got me through the last mile of the Donor Dash 5k.) I turned up the juice and ran. Down University to Alameda, then back up University to Speer, then west on Speer. Twenty feet before I reached the 3-mile sign, the song ended.

NOW I was starting to get tired. But I also noticed that I'd pulled up closer to a couple of my Roost teammates. I let myself slow down a bit, back to what felt like a 9-to-9:30 pace, but at the same time kept my eyes peeled for any of my teammates that I might be able to catch. Sure enough, at about 3.8(? Anyway, just before the 4-mile mark), I caught up to one of them. Here was our conversation as I passed:

Her: Go big or go home, right?
Me: You said it! How you feeling?
Her: Pretty good, you?
Me: Oh, I'm dying!

And that was mostly true. My music was still pushing me, and I was inspired by seeing my friends running along the course (going west on Speer I could wave to them as they came back the other way after the turnaround), but I was starting to run out of steam. Or so I thought. Running along 1st Avenue into Cherry Creek, I could see the finish line in the distance--a bit of a tease since we still had more than half a mile to go. We turned north on Detroit up to 3rd, and as we did so I saw another teammate ahead of me. A small part of my brain said I could catch him, but the rest of me ignored it. But as I ran along 3rd, I could see I was gaining on him ever so slightly. That small voice recruited some friends and got louder. As I turned south onto Steele, and then east onto 2nd, the voices became louder and more insistent. Almost unconsciously, I found myself pushing harder (though not as hard as the Metallica Mile), and closing the gap between us.

As we turned south onto Milwaukee, I knew I had him. I poured as much as I had left into passing my friend, which I did just before we turned back onto 1st. Sprinting out the last block, I crossed the finish line in 39:06. The day after a (fairly challenging) 20-mile long run, I pulled off a sub-40-minute 5-mile race, and set a nearly 10-minue PR for myself to boot. My sister was right: I do surprise myself.

A quick shout-out to congratulate some other members of the Roost Team (all of whom had fantastic races of their own): in the 5-mile Keith Solverson took 1st, and Heather Utrata took 2nd female! In the 5k, Jason Rahm took 6th overall and 3rd in his AG, and Anna Parker took 7th female and 1st in her AG! Nice work guys! I'm proud to be associated with this team!

Official Time: 39:06
YTD Race Miles: 51.6
YTD Total Miles: 510.3
Oh yeah, that wager?: I lost. My sister ran her 5k in an amazing 36:41, a huge PR for her as well!

Running of the Green 7k 2011

In 2009 I had a huge breakthrough at this race. Coach Manthey of Runner's Edge of the Rockies had emailed us an article called "Go-Zone Racing" that really inspired me, and I went into the race two years ago determined to succeed in a big way. Which I did, setting a four-minute PR. That wound up being the first of 8 PRs I set in 2009, including two in the marathon! Then, when I ran it last year, I didn't do quite as well. Not that it was a bad race, but I just wasn't feeling it last year.

This year, then, I was determined to get my edge back. I missed my PR in New Orleans by 5 minutes, and as of yesterday was 0-for-3 (although, to be fair, the first two races I ran in 2011--the Frosty's Frozen 5 mile and 10 mile--were run as part of a 22-mile long training run, not as fast races). I was determined to have a very fast 7k race and set a new PR.

I knew I had the strength and endurance to push myself faster than I had in 2009. At that race I held a 7:47 pace. Since then I'd run a half dozen 5ks at 7:47 pace or faster. I knew my body could handle it. My mind, on the other hand, wasn't so sure. So for about two weeks leading up to the race, I worked on psyching myself up. I read and re-read the Go-Zone Racing article, and focused my energy on visualizing my success. Even the changes to the course layout, including an out-and-back on the north side along Water Street (before crossing I-25 again for the final mile), weren't going to be enough to throw me off my game. I knew I could hold between a 7:30 and 7:45 pace for the whole race.

Adding to my excitement about this race was the fact that it would be my first one as a member of the Runner's Roost Race Team. On Wednesday at Run Club, I'd gotten my new team singlet and shorts--bright, eye-catching orange. According to the team captain, almost 60 members of the team were going to run the race; and between that and the fact that it's built into the training schedules for everyone in Runner's Edge, I knew I'd have plenty of friends out there with me who would offer encouragement and support.

So this morning I made my way to the starting line, seeding myself fairly close to the front with a couple of friends, brimming with confidence and eager for a hard and triumphant race. I cranked my music as the announcer counted down the seconds to the start, and then began to run.

One of the course changes this year was in the start line: where in years previous we started down Blake to 18th, then turned and turned again before hitting 20th, this year we started on 17th and took that to Market to 20th. The practical upshot of this was that the crowd would be able to thin out sooner, since 17th is much wider than Blake. I took advantage of the wider street to push my way forward, keeping my pace between 6:30 and 7:00 for the first half mile. One of the recommendations from the Go Zone article is to "attack the first mile," and I was certainly doing that. After those first three and a half minutes or so I dialed my pace back a bit, settling in to between 7:00 and 7:30, still a bit aggressive but I felt within control. I passed a few friends in orange jerseys, waving to them as I went.

At the end of the first mile the course begins to climb up as 20th St crosses over I-25. My pace started to slip a bit, but I was still keeping myself under 7:45. I sailed over the top of the hill and took advantage of the downhill to coast along Central before turning on 15th and heading into the Highland area. Now in years past, the course has described a good-sized loop through this neighborhood before picking up Central again and doubling back towards the start. This year, due I understand to some construction in that area, meant the course was a bit different. We still made a loop up 29th to Zuni, but then to make up the difference an extra out-and-back was added just past that point. I'll get to that in a moment, but I want to talk about the hill on 29th first.

This hill on 29th is just short of the 3 mile mark. I'd been maintaining my 7:30 to 7:45 pace for this entire second mile, but was definitely starting to feel it. In desperation, frustrated with myself, I pulled over to the side and slowed to a walk at about 1.8 miles, up this hill, just to catch my breath. I kept an eye on my watch, and told myself that as long as I finished the second mile before I turned over 15 minutes, I would still be on pace for a 7:30 race. I'd been running for 13 minutes at that point, so I figured I still had plenty of time...

Of course, several of my friends whom I had passed earlier in the race almost immediately caught up to me. When Bret Stevens came running by, he shouted a few words of encouragement at me that were enough to spur me back into running. More, the two minute walking break, unplanned though it was, was sufficient to reenergize my legs. I was soon back on speed, finishing that second mile in 8 minutes and still on pace for a 7:30 average.

Halfway through the third mile, after making the smaller loop through Highland, I ran over the next course change. Instead of turning back onto Central, the course kept down 15th, crossing over I-25 a second time before picking up Water St for a quick out-and-back. Again, taking advantage of a slight downhill before going over the highway, I pushed myself to between 6:45 and 7:00 pace, trying to bank some time. My pace slid around a lot on the return spur of the out-and-back, but I was still on target for my goal until I had to climb up and over I-25 along 15th street again (yes, for those of you keeping score, this is now the THIRD time the course has crossed over the highway!). Again, with my legs feeling heavy I pulled off to the side and slowed to a walk, and as before it was the shouted encouragement of Bret Stevens that got me going again. Up and over the bridge I went, then back along Central towards the fourth and final highway crossing at 20th. Unfortunately, my pace had slipped to between 7:45 and 8:00, and I wasn't sure I had enough in me to recover back to my previous speed.

Salvation came in that last half mile in the form of a few friends from Runner's Edge of the Rockies: Jenny Smith and Laci Dearden, and also Jim Lynch. Between my blazing speed along 20th in the first mile, my two unintended walk breaks, and my recovery efforts, Lynch and I had leapfrogged along the course. I drew up behind him after crossing I-25 again, but just as I pulled up alongside him he poured on some speed and soon left me in his dust (I teased him about this afterward, claiming that he was tired of playing tag with me and wanted to put me in my place. He maintains he had no idea I was there). I didn't think I had enough to catch him, though, so I let him go. Soon after that, Jenny and Laci pulled alongside me. We exchanged breathless congratulations, and I think Jenny said something like, "Come on, Doug, you've got this" before she too pulled ahead. It was just enough to force me to keep going, as was seeing Coach Manthey and a few other Runner's Edge and Runners Roost teammates cheering at the 4 mile sign. I poured everything I had left into my legs, and pulled my pace back to between 7:15 and 7:30.

Another piece of advice from the Go Zone article is to start the finishing kick a little sooner than usual. I didn't think I had enough in me for a quarter-mile sprint, but thought I could hold the 7:15 pace for a bit longer. With less than 100 yards or so to go, the course turns onto Wazee. I was satisfied that I'd run a good race, and was definitely going to have a new PR. I would have been satisfied with that, but just as I rounded the corner I saw the familiar back of Jim Lynch just ahead of me. Tired as I was, I couldn't resist pouring it all on, leaving nothing behind me, and with maybe 20 yards to go I tore past him at a blistering (certainly for me) 5:08 pace!

Then it was all over but the drinking. And congratulating. All my friends and teammates had very good races. Several new PRs were set--including my own--and the Roost Race Team represented itself very well. I spent several minutes catching up with my teammates, exchanging high-5s and congratulations before heading over to Delaneys for some post-race celebratory libations.

My friend Erin Brumleve commented later that my new orange singlet clearly made me faster. I think she's right, and I can't wait to wear it again at my next race!

Official Time: 32:53
YTD Race Miles: 45.6
YTD Total Miles: 267.6
Yes, Yes I Did: As I walked back to the train station on my way home, still wearing my singlet and number, a passerby asked me if I'd won the race. I told him I had, and as far as I'm concerned, that wasn't a fib.

Mardi Gras Marathon 2011

I love my father. He's a great guy, and a big fan of mine. He's travelled to almost all of my out-of-state races, and even stood by and cheered and supported me during my disastrous Denver marathon in 2007. When he heard I was going to run in New Orleans, he said he wanted to be there, and that he'd even make hotel arrangements for us. I love my father.

What I don't love about my father, however, is his snoring. He's always been a snorer, and I know it drove my mother crazy too. He had the surgery that's supposed to correct it, but it didn't take. I was nervous about sharing a hotel room with him, afraid that his snoring would keep me awake on Saturday night. But, I convinced myself, the lower altitude might have a positive effect: the extra moisture in the air might soften his passages, make him less likely to snore.

I could not have been more wrong. If anything, his snoring was even louder than usual! His uncanny impersonation of a rusty chainsaw attacking a petrified forest kept me awake half of Thursday night! Even my earplugs didn't help--I swear he only got louder to compensate! Finally in sheer desperation I dragged all my blankets and pillows into the bathroom and lined the bathtub with them ("God bless the Westin for giving you 17 pillows, right?"). Only then, with my earplugs in place and the door shut, was I able to get any sleep at all.

On Friday my Dad and I went to Cafe du Monde for breakfast. I had been told many times to be sure to try their beignets, and I did. They were delicious, like sweet sopapillas buried in a mountain of powdered sugar ("Excuse me, I believe I ordered extra powdered sugar?!"). Then we scouted out Decatur Street to find places for him and my sister Vicki and her friend Jenny to spectate. We found a good one on mile 14, at the giant gold statue of Joan of Arc. I would just have to remember to bear left ("Right, frog!" "Wow, that's a pretty dated reference. Wonder if anyone'll get it...or comment about it.").

After that we went to the Expo, then down to the start area to see how long it would take to walk the two miles from the hotel. I also stopped at a Walgreens to get some Tylenol PM..... After that we met up with Vicki and Jenny, then headed over to Bourbon Street. Had some drinks at the Absinthe Palace, International House of Beers, and hurricanes at Pat O'Briens. We finished off the evening at Preservation Hall, listening to Leroy Jones and his sextet. That was indescribably fun! I love N'Awlins jazz, and this group was epic. Really, other than the marathon, this was probably the high point of the weekend.

Saturday was spent relaxing: we took a walking tour of St Louis Cemetary #1 in the morning (after breakfast at Cafe du Monde, of course), then I returned to the hotel to put my feet up till dinner time. Dad and I watched the online course tour. Dinner was at Muriels, where we joined fellow Runner's Edge of the Rockies member Lori and her mom. I ordered two of the eggplant pasta appetizers (they were small!) and a side of rice. It was a pretty filling meal, if not my usual pre-long run fare. That night I got all my gear in place and popped a few Tylenol PMs to put me out. I spent a few more minutes before sleep reviewing my race strategy:

Miles 1-4: hold back, settle in
Miles 5-13: be aggressive and bank time!
Miles 14-20: ease back slightly, stay strong
Miles 21-26.2: keep going, don't stop now!

We made it to the start line in plenty of time--just as the corrals were opening, in fact! I said good-bye to my dad, made one last pit stop, and then it was time to race!

I felt strong and fast at the start (in fact my first mile was about 45 seconds too fast). The first band, at mile 0.5, was playing Stevie Ray Vaughn, which I took as a good sign. Shortly after that, I passed two runners wearing Biggest Loser tshirts: turns out it was a couple from the 2010 season running together!

I hit the halfway point at 1:57:43, 9 seconds slower than my half split at Chicago! That's very interesting, because a side-by-side comparison of my splits for those two races show some pretty wide differences in certain miles. In any event, I was still feeling pretty great, although I did have to stop for a quick potty break just before mile 14. Taking the main lesson from Chicago, where underhydration had very nearly wound me up in the hospital, I'd made it a point to drink two cups of fluids at each aid station. The difference here was that it wasn't as hot as Chicago (certainly at the halfway point it was still very cool, somewhere in the 50s I'd guess). So, I wasn't sweating as much, hence the needed stop. I still kept that mile to about 9 minutes, though...

I saw my Dad, Vicki, and Jenny right on cue. I was still feeling solid and keeping to my splits and my mental plan of attack. The next five miles went by easily enough, but then my pace started to slip a little. I hit mile 20 just under the 3-hour mark (with seconds to spare, in fact). I knew if I could keep my pace below a 10 minute mile I could hit my goal, or at the very least PR. But it was starting to get warm, and unfortunately the last 10k of the course--unlike most of the first 20 miles--offered no appreciable shade whatsoever. When I passed the medical tent at that point, I asked if they had any BioFreeze. I remembered how that stuff had revitalized my tired legs at Disney World in 2009. Sadly, they did not; so my lesson for next time is to carry a couple small packets with me at my next marathon.

Another lesson is to fine-tune my drinking. At about mile 21, in addition to feeling myself slowing down, I started to feel like I'd need to make another (!) pit stop. I tried to fight it, and managed to make it to mile 24 before I had to stop again. I've heard of runners who can let themselves go and, well, go...without having to stop, that is. I am not one of them. If I were winning a race, and a quick potty break literally meant the difference between first-place and second, then I might be able to let myself go; but under these circumstances I could not. Running, even as slow as I was at that point (11 minute pace), was becoming too painful. So I stopped.

The last 5k of this race really kicked my butt! Slow, slow, slow! Although thankfully, not as slow as Chicago (not as hot, either, by a long shot). I tried so hard to keep running but just couldn't make myself do it. I saw my cheering section again at mile 25 as planned, and rallied for a moment; but alas, only for a moment. I finally jogged across the finish line in 4:12:15, which I'm happy to say is my second-fastest marathon time.

So, what takeaways do I have from this race? First, New Orleans is a heck of a town. The music scene is very lively and fun. I lost count of the number of small jazz combos I saw on virtually every street corner! And Preservation Hall is a place I'll have to return to soon. Second, I do extremely well running flat races in cool temps at low elevation. I credit that to my high altitude training and all the challenging hilly courses that Coach David of Runner's Edge of the Rockies has us run. Third, I don't run as well in the heat. Granted, this isn't exactly a fresh takeaway from this race (neither is the second, really), but it was certainly reinforced during that last sunny 10k. Fourth, I should drink between a cup-and-a-half and two cups of fluids at each aid station--more if it's warm, less if it's cool. Determining what can be considered "warm" and "cool" is something I should work on. Last, a few packets of BioFreeze to give myself fresh legs near the end of my marathon would be a great idea.

Oh, I do have one other takeaway: drinking and dancing until 1:30 AM after running 26.2 miles is for those creatures more superhuman than me ("Seriously, when my alarm went off Monday morning, I tried to get out of bed to turn it off and promptly fell on the floor because my legs weren't working.").

Official Time: 4:12:15
YTD Race Miles: 41.2
YTD Total Miles: 211.6
Number of separate bands that covered Journey's "Don't Stop Believin" on Sunday night: 6

Frosty's Frozen 5- and 10-mile 2011

It's been a long time since I've posted anything here: three whole months! Wow. The last race I ran was the Highlands Ranch Turkey Trot in November (not really sure why I didn't do a recap of that one; it was actually a solid race, a 24-minute 5k). But it's a new year, with some exciting new opportunities for me. So on with the report!

As I mentioned in my Chicago marathon report (waaaay back in October!), my next marathon will be in New Orleans on February 13. After taking the rest of October off from training, I started up again on November 1, and am now four weeks out. Today's long run was scheduled for 22 miles. As luck would have it, this weekend was one of the three weekends a year Coach David takes off from Runner's Edge of the Rockies. ("Three weekends a year?! How selfish...") But, there was a silver lining opportunity: The Frosty's Frozen Five and Ten! The two races were scheduled to start in succession rather than simultaneously, so I had an opportunity to race 15 of my scheduled 22! And I knew that a number of RER friends, not to mention friends from the Runner's Roost Race Team ("Don't you mean 'teammates'?" "I'll get to that in a second."), would be running one or the other--or both--of the races, along with several hundred other people. I determined that I could get there early, run 7 miles solo, then run the races at training race effort; in other words, treat this like any Saturday long run. This struck me as a Brilliant Idea.

So this morning I got to Hudson Gardens about an hour and a quarter before the 5-mile race was scheduled to start and ran 7 miles out-and-back, following my typical long run pace guidelines and adhering strictly to my fuel schedule--2 Honey Stinger chews every mile, and Gatorade every 2 miles. I got back just a few minutes before the start of the first race. Now, I did this 7-mile start along the Platte River Trail, the same path the race followed, and was mildly concerned that I might want to shoot myself in the face for running past the same buildings three times. But as it turned out, that didn't really become an issue. The energy for the 5-mile race was high; and the fact that I was now in my element and among my people (which is to say, runners) meant that, at least for the first race, I barely noticed or cared about the repeated scenery. In fact, I ran an almost letter-perfect 5-mile training run. I kept my pace even and steady--although, again, at long run training pace rather than 5- (or even 15-) mile race pace. Solid 10-minute splits, and almost nothing went wrong.

Almost nothing. I did, in fact, slip on some ice about three-quarters of a mile from the start, and landed right on my backside. ("At least you landed on something with plenty of padding." "Hey!" "I mean, as opposed to your face.")

When I got back to the staging area after finishing the 5-mile race, I had enough time to cool down slightly and change my timing chip (yes, I had one for the 5-mile and one for the 10-mile, and I had to write "5" and "10" on each to avoid confusing them) before it was time to start the 10-mile race. Again, my plan was to maintain an even 10-minute training effort, and stick to my fueling schedule. And, for the first 3 miles, I did exactly that. I was helped in this by fellow RER runner Jaclyn, who runs in the same pace group as me and was doing the same race-as-a-long-run strategy. But she slowed down at the first aid station and encouraged me to continue. Then I fell into conversation with another runner; and without realizing it, we both increased our pace to about 9:30. Not only that, I skipped my regular walk breaks at the start of each mile for the next several miles (and even missed a few fuel opportunities). I was consciously aware of these omissions; but honestly I was feeling so good that I believed I would be all right.

And I was. I managed to maintain between a 9:30 and a 9:45 pace for 6 of my last 7 miles; and I could have kept that pace for the last mile had I not made a conscious decision to ease off my pace and make that a cool down mile (as I've been trained to do for long runs). Although, I note that my heart rate, which had been between 150 and 160 for the first 15 miles of today's run, increased steadily over the last 7 miles from 162 to 171. And, at mile 20, my legs became very heavy and tired as the lactic acid I'd built up suddenly dumped into them. But as I said, when I hit mile 21 (mile 9 of the race), I slowed down to about 10:30 pace to let myself cool down. I would never do that in a race, of course; but again, today wasn't about fast race times. ("You still kicked it into high gear in the last 200 yards or so." "Well, that's because everybody from Runner's Edge who'd already finished was there cheering for me! Loudly! There were, like, a dozen of them! What was I supposed to do?")

I'm very encouraged by today's run. It's probably the best 22-miler I've ever had. Certainly the format was quite unique. And the weather was pretty near perfect, too. ("Maybe you should find races to run for all your 20+ mile workouts.") And even though my race times were hardly PRs, the fact that I felt as strong as I did even after 20 miles makes me very happy. ("After the race, Julie from Runner's Edge asked how I felt." "What did you say?" "I told her I felt fantastic, and that I could easily go back out to run another 20 or 30 feet.") And now, I'm really starting to get jazzed about New Orleans in a month. Honestly, I've felt...well, not bad, I've still felt good about it; but kind of blase. After today, I'm finally starting to get really excited about that race!

I'll tell you one more thing about which I'm very excited: this year I've been accepted to the Runner's Roost Race Team! I've been friends with and fans of a lot of the people on this team for the last couple of years; now I'm part of their ranks and could not be happier. I'm looking forward to running and training with them, and having them push me even harder to excel.

Official time(s): 3:39:35 for 22 miles; 50:34 for 5-mile race; 1:37:12 for 10-mile race
YTD Race Miles: 15
YTD Total Miles: 89.1
Number of times I passed the Hudson Gardens model train set: 6