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