50 in 50 by 50 -- A Marathoner's Quest

Bear Chase Trail Race Half Marathon 2011

2011-09-26T10:57:00.006-06:00

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

2011-08-15T08:21:00.015-06:00

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

2011-07-17T15:29:00.001-06:00

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

2011-06-26T21:33:00.002-06:00

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

2011-06-20T07:56:00.003-06:00

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

2011-06-05T18:25:00.003-06:00

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

2011-05-01T15:57:00.008-06:00

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

2011-03-13T16:19:00.008-06:00

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

2011-02-13T16:39:00.005-07:00

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

2011-01-15T16:35:00.007-07:00

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

Chicago Marathon 2010

2010-10-10T22:54:00.021-06:00

In the 1957 MGM classic film "12 Angry Men" with Henry Fonda and Lee J Cobb (and 10 other brilliant, talented actors...seriously, one of the best casts ever), a key piece of evidence discussed in the movie is whether or not one can look through the windows of a passing L train to see what's happening on the other side. I've always wondered about that, and I can now report that it's true: one can, in fact, look through the windows of a passing L train and see what's happening on the other side. This has nothing whatever to do with my race experience; just something I've wondered about since I first read Reginald Rose's play in the 6th grade.

Going into this weekend, my spirits and hopes were both high. I'd had some excellent recent races, including the Park to Park 10 Mile, Georgetown Half Marathon, and even the Donor Dash 5k. Between that and my speedwork with Runner's Edge of the Rockies I was certain that I would break four hours at this race. All my friends had voiced support and encouragement. I'd even come up with what I felt was a very clever idea: I'd asked several friends to call me and leave encouraging voice mails, which I uploaded to my iPod to play every half hour or so. I was very pleased with the number of friends who called, and the positive messages they all left (Very Special Thanks to all who called and props to Yvette whose original idea of carrying her cell phone on her marathon suggested this to me). I was really looking forward to hearing them.

As the weekend progressed my excitement grew. I visited the expo Friday morning and had lunch with my friend JaCinda. My baby sister flew in from California and arrived late Friday. Saturday morning she and I went to the expo to see the panel of online diarists, including JaCinda (the Marathon had selected ten people to keep training diaries on the marathon website)! Then Vicki and I had lunch at Navy Pier with my dad and Katie, who had also flown in Friday. Over lunch we discussed where they would be waiting for me on the course to cheer me on. Then it was back to the hotel for me, to rest my legs (and the rest of me).

When I woke up Sunday morning it was already 60 degrees! That didn't bode particularly well for the rest of the morning, but I tried not to think about it and instead focused on my plan of attack. During my mental coaching with Coach Ashley, I'd divided the race up into four segments, based on the splits on my pace band, and had a strategy for each. The first four miles were my Warm Up segment, where I was going to gradually (but consistently) increase my pace. The next 8 miles were going to be the most aggressive pacewise, and I was looking forward to pushing myself and building up some time. The third segment would be slightly slower than the second, but still aggressive and steady. Then, for the last 6.2 miles, I'd dig deep and push through. My pace band had me easing off pace a little for those miles, and I figured I'd need that in light of the 16 aggressive miles in the middle. Regardless of anything else I was resolved to turn up the juice as much as I could at the end and have as strong a finish as possible.

After hitting the portajohns, checking my bag, hitting the portajohns, doing a few strides to warm up, and hitting the portajohns, I made my way to my starting corral. Finally, the National Anthem was played and the wheelchair racers took off. Minutes later, I started walking forward, then jogging as my corral made its way to the start. I reached the starting line and my race began!

Despite the hundreds of people surrounding me (more than at any other marathon--or any other race except possibly the BoulderBOLDER--I've run), I was able to settle into my warmup miles relatively easy. Unfortunately I'm not entirely sure what my splits were for the first few miles, because a big chunk of the first mile was practically underground! Not underground exactly, but the course ran under bridges which, combined with the tall buildings of downtown, interrupted the satellite signal to my Garmin! I first noticed it at the 2 mile mark when my watch said I'd run 2.5 miles. By the end of the race I'd somehow picked up nearly 1.1 miles!

Even without knowing exact distance, however, I had a pretty good idea of how fast I was running. And, honestly, I was a bit ahead of myself by the time I'd come to the second part of my race. But my energy was high, and so was my confidence still. But it was starting to get warm. This was about the time that I made my second mistake.

I think I made my first mistake when I didn't eat any Honey Stinger Chews at the first aid station. In my training, and in my last 3 marathons, I'd taken 2 or 3 chews at every aid station, washing them down alternately with water or Gatorade. I'd had good results with that; but I'd earlier made a decision to not do that at the first aid station (although I did drink some Gatorade) because it was only 1.6 or so miles into the race. After that, I fueled up at each subsequent aid station by both eating and drinking. But for the first half of the race, I drank only one cup of either water or Gatorade. Temperatures were climbing, and if I'd been thinking ahead I might've acted differently. But I was focused on the moment. When I started the second half of the race, I decided to start drinking a cup of water AND a cup of Gatorade, doubling my fluid intake. This helped a little, but I think it was already too late. This was my second mistake: I should have started that sooner. By mile 18 I was taking 2 cups each of water and Gatorade; but again that's something that I should have started sooner.

When I was at mile 16, I heard someone announce that the Event Alert System had been upgraded from Green to Yellow. This meant that temperatures were slightly higher, and the announcer encouraged runners to keep drinking fluids and slow down if necessary. I was definitely running slower myself: I'd slipped from running between 8:45 and 9:00 miles to somewhere between 9:15 and 10:30 for the past few miles as things had gotten warmer. I'd also begun walking longer through the aid stations, and even my scheduled regular walk breaks had been going longer than usual. I still hoped that, if I could push myself and find the inspiration and the energy, I might be able to make up the time. As the miles dragged on, however, and the temperature continued to rise, my pace continued to slip and I soon knew that a sub-4 finish was out of reach. And, by the time I reached mile 22, I knew that even setting a new PR was out of the question.

I have to admit, it was pretty demoralizing. I'd trained hard, consistently, and well. I'd had excellent results in my recent races. I had the love and support and encouragement of family and friends. I'd run the first half of my race almost exactly according to plan (maybe even a bit faster). And now, I was watching my goals and dreams evaporate like so much spilled Gatorade on the hot streets. I was crushed. I wanted to run faster, to use my anger and frustration to fuel my run; but I couldn't. I didn't have the energy.

At the Nike Powersong Zone at mile 24, I heard an announcement that the Alert System had been upgraded to Red. Runners were now strongly encouraged to stop running and walk, or drop out entirely. With only 2.2 miles to go, I was determined to finish upright, and conditions and alerts be damned. The sight of a runner lying on the sidewalk, being tended to by an EMT, furthered my resolve. This was where I made my third mistake. In my grim determination to finish, I vowed not to slow down to a walk for anything, including the last 2 aid stations. Granted, I was running at a 13 minute pace by then, but I was still running!

I knew I was dehydrated (although I didn't know how badly). I believed that, at that point, I was so far gone it wouldn't matter if I took any drinks at those aid stations anyway, so I could at least keep from losing a few seconds by not slowing down to drink. In retrospect I think it's nothing short of a miracle that I made it to the finish line. Given the mistakes I'd made with regards to my fluids, I should by all rights have collapsed on the course. If I had, though, I'm certain I would have crawled or dragged myself to the finish line (or until some EMT forced me to stop).

When I turned the final corner just after mile 26, I saw the finish line clock inching its way towards 4:35:00. Now, I'd determined early on that I was about 5 minutes behind the clock, although I hadn't done the math to figure out exactly how far. I thought I was just under 5 minutes, say 4:57 or so. I reasoned, if I could cross the finish line before the official clock said 4:35:00, that would give me a sub-4:30 race. It turns out that I was 5 minutes and 10 seconds behind. My final time was 4:30:02.

After the race I made my way to the Hospitality Suite. I thought a massage was in order, but as my face and hands began to tingle and I started to sway, I realized going to the medical tent would be more prudent. They diagnosed me with severe dehydration, sat me down, gave me oxygen, took my blood pressure (low) and blood sugar (extremely low), and almost put my on an IV drip. I persuaded them to give me a cold Diet Pepsi instead which, combined with 3 sandwiches I scarfed down soon thereafter, served to bring me back from the brink of...well, whatever I was about to fall into.

I was pretty disappointed in myself immediately following this race (and for the next day, too). On the one hand, I think if I'd made some different choice--some smarter choices--with regards to my fluids, or let myself walk less, I could have had a better race. On the other hand, I believe that if I'd pushed much harder I probably would have collapsed on the course. I spent a lot of Sunday and Monday analyzing the race. I wondered if I'd gotten complacent, taken for granted that I'd have a sub-4 race. And, as I said, I think I've found the mistakes that I made. I hope to learn from them at my next marathon (which at this point I have decided will in fact be Mardi Gras in February 2011). But everyone has continued to be supportive and encouraging. The following comments in particular, made by friends over the past few days, have helped snap me out of my funk.

1. "Don't be disappointed. There are other races...you will break this goal...be proud you finished another marathon. Very few even attempt."
2. "Your time at Chicago had NOTHING to do with being overconfident."
3. "Race day is only one day...make peace with race day."

I believe I finally have.

Official Time: 4:30:02
YTD Race Miles: 155.4
YTD Total Miles: 1053.7
Honor Roll: Jon S, JaCinda S, Vicki T, Beth K, Janet M, Adrian W, Doug Sr, Katie C, Stevie Mac, Pat L
Very Special Thanks: Ashley A, John B, Patricia B, Randy C, Laci D, Michael K, Julie M, Keri N, Jen S, Maggie T, Sara T, Vicki T

Park to Park 10-mile 2010

2010-09-06T16:27:00.010-06:00

Ever since my success at the Georgetown Half last month, I've been completely convinced that my goal of running the Chicago Marathon in less than 4 hours will be a reality. Today's race bolstered that mind-set even more (not that it really needed it). Although it was touch-and-go for a few miles...

Everything started out fantastic. The morning was nice and cool, and I was energized and ready for a great race. After a quick warmup jog and some strides, I put myself pretty far towards the front, just behind the 8 minute mile sign. I held back only slightly during the first mile, which I finished in 8:10. I'd planned on between 8 and 8:10 for the rest of the race. I knew it would be a challenge--my old 10 mile PR was an 8:27 pace, and for the last 2 years I haven't been able to maintain an 8-minute pace for 10k. Still, bolstered as I was by my GTIS results (after all, I'd averaged 8:20 at that race) and my physical and mental training, I was confident that I'd succeed.

I cruised through the second mile in 7:46. This was a trifle faster than I'd intended, but I'd wanted to make up some time before I hit the aid station. The only problem was, there was no aid station at the end of that mile! I was mildly disconcerted by this, as I'd thought there would be aid stations every two miles. But I pushed on and found the first aid station a half mile later. I refueled on gatorade and water and kept running, and finished mile 3 in 8:11. I was definitely on track to set a new PR, maybe even (if I pushed it a bit more) come in under 80 minutes.

I averaged 8:00 for the next 2 miles into Cheeseman Park. My pace slipped a little during the climb in Cheeseman, but I was confident that I'd be able to make up the difference on the downhills. Suddenly, though, I started feeling very, very tired. I tried to push through it, using all the mental tips and tricks I've learned from the mental coaching I've been doing with Coach Ashley over the summer. But I couldn't seem to rally myself. Even hearing Jen cheer for me at the 6 mile mark and Anissa at the 7.5 mile aid station didn't seem to help. At least I was able to resist the very strong temptation to let myself walk...

I felt so slow! I wouldn't let myself look at my Garmin for fear of really getting depressed. As it was, by this time I was sure an 80-minute race was off the table. However, as I finished mile 8 I got a bit of a second wind. I'd been running for just over 65 minutes, and had 2 miles to go. That meant I could still set a new PR even if I slowed to a 9:30 pace for those last miles! Not that I intended to go that slowly, of course. But the realization that I was going to PR put that last spring in my step and a smile on my face, and gave me the energy I hadn't thought I had anymore. Newly energized, I covered mile 9 in 8:10 and the last mile in 8:04, giving myself a new 10 mile PR, about 2 1/2 minutes faster than the Snowman Stampede back in February.

After the race I checked my splits for all the miles, certain that I'd slipped to 9:00 pace for miles 6 through 8. To my immense surprise, I had not: mile 6 was 8:09, and I finished mile 7 in 7:56! Only mile 8 was comparatively slow, clocking in at 8:57. I'm not sure why those miles felt so much slower than they actually were; but I'm encouraged by the fact that even though I felt so tired I was still more or less maintaining the pace I'd started with. This was yet more proof that I'm going to hit my goal in Chicago next month.

Official Time: 1:21:56
YTD Race Miles: 129.2
YTD Total Miles: 922.8
D'oh: I was talking with April from Runner's Edge after the race, about the person calling out splits at 3.8 miles (instead of 4). "I don't know if she was still there when you passed," I said. "Well...yes. I was only 2 minutes behind you," came the response.

Georgetown Half Marathon 2010

2010-08-14T16:38:00.010-06:00

For weeks I've been telling people that I was going to run this race in under 1 hour and 50 minutes. My half marathon PR from the Platte River Half in April was 1:54:20, so shaving another 4 minutes and 20 seconds off was something I felt I could definitely do. I've been training smart this season, participating in weekly Runner's Edge Speedwork workouts, and have even been doing some mental strength training with Ashley of GUTS Coaching.

That's actually been a key element of my training, the mental strength workouts. I know my body is strong and fast enough to hit the time goals I set for myself; but mentally I have a tendency to get in my own way. I overthink things, and psyche myself out of what should be a victory. Ashley's been helping me get around that. At our last session before today's race, in fact, we spent some time going over ways the race would be similar to a regular weekend long run: since Runner's Edge was doing it as a training race, I'd have plenty of friends around to offer encouragement and support, and help me push myself. Plus, having run the race a couple of times before, I'm familiar with it and would know what to expect. It really helped set my mind at ease.

Last night I barely slept at all for nervous excitement. This morning I was up at 3:30 to get ready. I'd arranged to carpool with some friends from Stapleton, which necessitated the early wake-up call. But a can of (flat) soda gave me enough caffeine to start the day, and I knew my excitement would build and keep me awake as start time drew closer. (By the way, the flat soda is something else I'm trying this year. I don't drink coffee, but I've found that a jolt of caffeine in the morning before a long run helps get me moving. I let it go flat so the carbonation doesn't cause me issues, either. I read that some of the elites do this, and thought I'd try it; so far, I've had good experiences with it. Plus it's like the only soda I drink during the week anymore.)

Prior to today I put together my splits for the race:

Mile	1	2	3	4	5	6	7	8	9	10	11	12	13	.1
Pace	8:53	8:38	8:23	8:18	8:13	8:13	8:13	8:18	8:18	8:18	8:23	8:23	8:23	FAST

Reviewing them again this morning at the starting line (for the umpteenth time), I felt confident that I'd be able to hit them all. I knew I'd be tired by the time I got past mile 10, but the built in slow down over those miles would allow for that. In the last few moments before the starting gun was fired, I pulled my focus inward, taking some deep breaths and visualizing energy flowing in with each inhalation (another drill I'd learned from Ashley). The starting gun was fired, and I was off!

I covered my first mile in 8:54. I'd put myself very close to the start so that I'd have an easier time of getting up to speed. I felt strong and fast (in fact I had to work on pulling myself back occasionally, so I wouldn't burn out too quickly). I exchanged greetings and shouts of encouragement with my friends as I passed them (or they passed me) as we wound our way through Georgetown.

Knowing that I would need it later, I began reciting a mantra in my head with each step: "Pain is Temporary, Glory is Forever." Actually, to keep it in rhythm with the cadence of my footstrikes, it got shortened to "Pain temp'ry, glory f'rev'r."

Over the next few miles I increased speed on schedule. Actually some of my splits were a bit faster than I'd intended; I was mildly worried about that but figured I'd slow down as I went through the aid stations enough to balance things out.

I continued to tear up the course, averaging about 8:20 per mile. As I ran I repeated my mantra, interchanging it with another inspired by a t-shirt I'd seen about mile 4: "Pain is Just Weakness Leaving the Body." I also took great delight in seeing so many Runner's Edge shirts on the course, running with some, passing some, being passed by others (and those that passed me pushed me--without knowing it--to run a little faster for a while, to try and keep pace with them). I was having a great race and feeling fantastic. The sun was shining, and even though that was warming things up, there was a cool breeze blowing that balanced it out very nicely. I felt strong and speedy and unstoppable. I was maybe a minute or so ahead of schedule, and even thought that a sub-1:48 finish could be in the cards.

This almost euphoric feeling in my race continued through the first 10 miles. But at mile 11 I finally started to feel tired, and my pace started to slip. I could feel myself slowing down, but didn't worry too much about it because a)I was a bit ahead of my pace, and b)I had built a slowdown into the last 3 miles anyway. But I didn't realize how much I'd slowed down until I finished that mile in 8:46, more than 20 seconds behind what I'd wanted. I pushed harder, but only managed to finish mile 12 four seconds faster. At that point I glanced at my watch and saw that I had less than 10 minutes left to finish.

It was time to rally. I focused all my energy on picking up speed, increasing turnover and pushing myself forward over that last rolling mile. With a quarter mile to go I saw Coach David and some other Runner's Edge folks cheering and taking pictures. That plus the sight of the crowd at the turn to the finish helped a lot. Suddenly I didn't feel tired or heavy as I had over the last two miles. I felt strong and fast and invincible. I wasn't looking at my watch, but I knew that I was going to come in under my goal.

I flew around the last corner and saw the finish line. I put on my final burst of speed and crossed the finish line, arms upraised triumphantly. I checked my watch, and sure enough I had reached my goal: I'd finished under one hour and 50 minutes.

Now that I've hit that goal, I'm more confident than ever (and I was already plenty confident) that I will break 4 hours when I run the Chicago marathon in October. I've even been thinking about just going for broke and shooting for 3:50 (although one of my running idols was quick to say, "Take it one step at a time, Doug The Doug. Break 4, then worry about breaking 3:50"). Either way, this race was a tremendous shot in the arm and a huge accomplishment for me, and I'm ridiculously proud of how I did.

Official Time: 1:49:18
YTD Race Miles: 119.2
YTD Total Miles: 816.5
Countdown to Chicago: 57 days...

Donor Dash 5k 2010

2010-07-18T14:13:00.007-06:00

The year 2000 saw the first Donor Dash in Denver, Colorado. It was a very small race. Today was the 11th running of that race, and it had a record crowd: 3,500 registered participants! Once again, as they have for the past 4 years, my younger sister Sara, my kid sister Maggie and her husband Marty, and my Dad all joined me in Washington Park for this race.

I felt very confident about this race. The mental strength training I've been doing lately with Ashley from Runner's Roost, combined with some tweaks and adjustments to my running form I've incorporated over the last week, left me feeling good about having a strong race and hopefully PRing. Sure, I ran 18 miles yesterday, but I'd spent the rest of the day off my feet and relaxing after an ice bath. I was as recovered as I was going to be. Plus, I had something else on my side: a new course.

Because the race was so big this year, they decided the couldn't keep everyone inside Washington Park for the typical loop-and-a-half 5k course. Instead, although the start line was in essentially the same place on the southeast side, we were routed out of the park at Arizona and ran along the streets: Arizona to Gilpin, south to Louisiana, then North along Downing to Virginia and across to Franklin before entering the park again at Exposition. Then we followed the inner loop east and south, turning in at the crossroad and finishing in the usual place, just north of Mississippi.

I have found that I tend to do better on new courses. I don't know why, but there's something about new scenery that translates into better races for me. Or maybe it's just that I've gotten bored running the same old Washington Park 5k loop. Whatever, I believe that the new course was a positive factor in today's race. Once I got out of the park and onto Gilpin, the crowd loosened up and I was able to move through the pack fairly quickly. I'd attacked the course with some intensity, wanting to set the tone for myself of a strong and fast race. Granted, for the first quarter mile or so, I was limited in how much attacking I could do, just because there were so many people to contend with; but once we were on the wider streets that was easier. I kept my intensity up, fueled by the people I managed to pass as I ran up Downing.

I reached the 1 mile mark in 7 minutes and 22 seconds. My 5k PR in Colorado Springs last year was run at a 7:25 average, so I noted with extreme satisfaction that I was on track for a new PR. I also noticed something very interesting indeed: in the crowd, about a quarter mile ahead of me, was what looked like the back of a familiar bald head! He was too far ahead for me to be certain; but I wondered, could that possibly be my friend Jason? Sure looked like him: white singlet, dark shorts, about the right size (from what I could judge from a quarter mile away), and a shiny, bald head. The shoes were green, and I couldn't remember what color shoes Jason had now; but, I thought, that could actually be him! But if so, what's he doing this far back? He's about a mile and a quarter into the race; after seven and a half minutes, he should be closer to a mile and a half, and out of my line of sight. Unless he's taking it (very easy)...and if he is, maybe I could pick him off! A wild, improbable hope surged within my breast, lightening my feet and pushing me forward. The barest possibility that I could give Jason a run for his money in a 5k put a fresh shot of adrenaline into my legs.

These thoughts flashed through my brain with the speed of a European bullet train. The coldly logical part of my brain told me that it was extremely unlikely that Jason would be at this race, or that I would see him if he was--he'd be too far ahead of me. But because the vision of catching up to him was so enticing and was helping me run, I chose to ignore the logic and go with the fantasy. After another half mile or so I could see that it was not, in fact, my friend; but as chasing him was keeping me at a good pace I decided to continue thinking of him as "Jason."

I ran out the rest of the second mile, grimly determined to catch up to "Jason." As I ran, I checked in with my running style and breathing, working on (but not obsessing about) my form and footstrikes. I made a conscious effort to keep my strides somewhat shorter, which allows me to conserve energy and run a bit faster. Remembering a lesson I learned from Thursday's session with Ashley, and my run afterward, I also made sure to keep smiling (I've discovered that if I smile while running--even if I don't really feel like smiling--things seem to go easier for me).

I was inching my way up the line, drawing ever closer to "Jason" and passing other runners at the same time. At about 1.7, as I was running across Virginia and going uphill, I started to think that I couldn't keep up the pace, that I'd have to slow down. Knowing that I was just over halfway done with the race, I ground my teeth (mentally; I was still smiling) and ignored that voice, concentrating on the rock music playing on my iPod until the voice went away. At 2 miles we turned back into the park. I knew I was on the home stretch at this point. At that point, something interesting happened: my iPod started playing Metallica's "Master of Puppets." This is long song. I couldn't think just how long at the moment, but knew it was at least 7 minutes. I knew I had just over a mile to go, and was determined to reach the finish line before the song was over. I knew I was tired, because I'd been running a hard race the day after an 18 mile training run. I hadn't noticed my mile 2 split, but felt I was still on pace for a new PR. I was drawing closer to "Jason," although he too was still keeping an aggressive pace. I dug as deep as I could to keep my legs moving, and ran and ran.

At 3 miles, we turned onto the cross road to the finish. I poured the last of my energy into forcing my legs to move faster. Two things happened simultaneously as the finish line came into view: "Master" began wrapping up, and I came up right behind "Jason," who glanced over his right shoulder and saw me. As the song's final bars played in my ears, I pulled abreast of "Jason" and, with meters to spare, lunged ahead of him and crossed the finish line.

Sadly, this race was not a PR for me. In fact, I missed that mark by 18 seconds. Turns out I ran the 2nd mile in 7:29, and the last in 7:44 (plus 44 seconds for the last tenth). I hadn't felt like I'd slowed down, and I know I increased speed in the last minutes. I can only put it down to being more tired than I'd thought from yesterday's long run. As such, I'm not losing much sleep over it (apart from being sad and surprised that I couldn't make up that 18 seconds). The race was a good chance for me to use several tips and strategies I've been developing and working on over the past few weeks, and I'm quite pleased with their results.

Official Time: 23:17
YTD Race Miles: 106.1
YTD Training Miles: 669.2
Best part about running with family: They can go get me recovery drinks while I'm having a massage!

Liberty Run 4-mile 2010

2010-07-04T09:57:00.007-06:00

Compared with yesterday's heat, this morning was almost letter-perfect! The race didn't start till 8:30 (by which time yesterday I was almost finished with my 16 mile run with Runner's Edge of the Rockies), and it was much cooler than 24 hours ago--although it was a bit sticky and humid. I knew that would slow me down a bit, but I still felt confident that I'd have a good race, and stand a good shot of beating last year's 31:48. But when I went for a warmup jog, I was alarmed to feel some stiffness in my right ankle! I was very upset by this because, after a bad week of running due to pain in that ankle, yesterday's run had been entirely pain free! I held myself to about a 10 minute pace for a short warmup jog, and concentrated on keeping my weight forward a little bit. This combination seemed to alleviate the mild discomfort in my ankle, so I immediately revised my goal for today: I planned to run by feel, hoping just to have a solid race at that pace which I felt I could maintain without exacerbating my ankle issues.

This was actually the first race in some time that I was going to run entirely by feel, as I did not have my Garmin with me. Not by choice: the charging cradle chose yesterday to malfunction, and so I wasn't able to charge the Garmin's battery, which had drained itself on yesterday's run.

It turned out to be kind of an interesting experience, running without knowing how fast I was going. I used to have a pretty good idea of what a 10 minute pace felt like, or 9 or 8 or even 7. Basically it was based on my perception that an 8-minute mile was painful, and difficult to sustain for more than 1 or 2 miles; that anything faster was borderline excruciating; that 9 was what my coach refers to as "comfortably hard;" and that 10 was relaxed and easy. However, as I've improved over the last year and gotten stronger, my perceptions have shifted. Now an 8 minute mile is a pace I can easily sustain for a 5k, although it's still an effort to hold that for a 10k. A 9-minute mile, which is what I'm going to have to run at Chicago in October, is now a pace I can sustain for much longer distances. But I haven't quite adjusted to the different feeling yet.

Here's what I'm talking about: I knew the first mile was going to be slow, and anticipated that the whole thing probably would be, due to the care I was taking with my ankle. Without my Garmin I had no way of knowing, but it felt like I was running about a 10-minute pace for the first mile. After that mile, the stiffness in my ankle went away, and I felt good enough to increase my pace, pushing to what felt like a 9-minute mile, a pace that I sustained for the rest of the race. But, instead of crossing the finish at about 37 minutes, I was closer to 35:15! Turns out, if I'm right about the first mile taking 10 minutes, I ran closer to 8:30 for the rest of the race. It wasn't a PR, but a very satisfying race, especially given how fatigued I still was today after yesterday's long run.

My younger sister was there, too, running her first 4-mile race. I talked her into it after she finished the Bolder BOULDER last year: "It's 2.2 miles less than what you just did! Piece of cake!" I also saw Susan B and Bill McD from Runner's Edge, who also ran the race, as well as Bret S who was there taking pictures after his own 16 mile run that morning. Smart guy, that Bret, avoiding yesterday's heat!

Official Time: 35:18
YTD Race Miles: 103
YTD Total Miles: 599
Thanks, Bret: The pictures look great as always!

Father's Day 5k 2010

2010-06-20T16:47:00.005-06:00

Father's Day dawned cool and cloudy in my dad's neighborhood. "Doesn't look like too great a day," he commented wistfully as we drove up to Arvada for the Father's Day 5k. "Looks perfect to me," I countered. I'd much rather run in cool, cloudy conditions than bright, merciless sunny ones. Of course, just because it was cloudy down south didn't mean it wouldn't be sunny up north...Sure enough, by the time we got to Arvada the clouds were nowhere to be seen. It promised to be a warm and bright day to run this race.

I was still feeling somewhat stiff from yesterday's 10 mile run with Runner's Edge, my first in the sub-4-hour pace group. So I wasn't planning on breaking my record today. But I still felt I could have a decent race, and finish under 30 minutes. But when I went out for my warmup miles (I always warm up with 2 miles when I run a 5k), I wondered if I was being optimistic. Not only was I still stiff, my right ankle was letting me know it was there. It wasn't screaming at me, but I could definitely hear it. I promised myself I'd take the race nice and slow, and ice my ankle afterwards.

And I was pretty good about doing just that--for the first half mile or so. I held back conservatively, paying attention to any messages my body--specifically my ankle--might be sending me as the crowd surged around and past me. But when the course turned onto Eldridge and started a mild descent (after a short climb on 72nd), I stopped paying attention to my pace and started paying attention to the runner who was just in front of me, whom I could easily pass. And, when I passed that runner, I saw another one just ahead of me, whom I could also pass with ease. And after that, there was another one, and another, and another. Before I knew it, I'd made my way back up to my relative starting position, and was still picking a few people off here and there.

I settled into a comfortably hard pace just before the turnaround at about the halfway point (the course isn't a strict out-and-back). I was still making my way forward through the crowd, and as I approached the end of mile 2 I was getting ready to enjoy the gentle downhill of the rest of the course. I had loosened up nicely by this time, and my ankle's conversation had lapsed into silence. I knew by this time I was on pace to finish near or maybe even under 25 minutes, 5 minutes faster than I'd originally planned on. At about 2.25 miles I passed my dad, who was looking pretty good for a guy who smokes 5 pipes a day.

I was still moving my way forward through the crowd, although not as rapidly as I had before. In fact, with about a quarter of a mile to go, a runner caught up to me! I pushed for a bit, just to see what his response would be. He kept right alongside me and even managed to pull ahead for a little bit! I rallied quickly, though, and passed him again just as we reached the 3 mile mark. Pouring on a final sprint, I managed to pass one more runner, crossing the finish line just a second before he did. I didn't PR, but had a surprisingly good race given how bad I'd felt before the start.

After I finished, I walked back up along the course looking for my dad. I caught him about a third of a mile away from the finish, and jogged alongside him to bring him in for a new PR. The race had featured an ugly tie contest, and he was wearing one hideously bad tie that many volunteers commented on and cheered. We made our way up to the pancake breakfast (included in the price this year--smart!) and checked out the car show before heading home, satisfied with our respective races. I'm sure we'll do it again next year.

Official Time: 25:31
YTD Race Miles: 99
YTD Total Miles: 547.7
World's Finest?: Two guys running together were wearing a Superman and Spider-Man tie for the ugly tie contest. Not that I would think of a Superman tie as "ugly"...

Garden of the Gods 10-mile 2010

2010-06-13T22:11:00.016-06:00

In 2009 I ran this race in 94 minutes and 49 seconds. This was a huge improvement over my 2008 race (my first GOG), which was 1:48:38. Additionally, in February I ran a 1:24:33 at the Snowman Stampede. For these reasons, I felt confident that a 90 minute race was achievable. Even knowing what a challenging course this is, I believed I could accomplish my goal. Sub-90 was still five and a half minutes slower than my PR, after all. That's a lot of wiggle room on a 10-mile course. I felt confident I could have a good race.

With this sense of confidence and optimism I drove down to Colorado Springs yesterday to spend the night at my sister's place. We had a delicious and filling homemade spaghetti dinner and watched an old, funny movie before calling it an early night. I was looking forward to a restful and deep sleep, which would help prepare me for a fast race in the morning. Unfortunately, I had difficulty falling asleep--I was too wired, too excited about my forthcoming fantastic race. When I did finally slow my brain down enough for me to start to sleep, I kept drifting in and out. So a solid night's sleep didn't happen. But I still felt confident that I could have a good race.

I think this was the biggest GOG 10 Mile race yet. I heard the announcer say that there were about 2,000 participants. It looked like a good crowd, and everybody was ready to have a fun race. Thankfully, the weather had taken a turn for the better: after steady rain for much of yesterday, today there was none, although the sky was filled with clouds. Actually, it was almost letter-perfect: cool weather (low 50s), clouds to keep the sun away, and even a mild, gentle breeze. There was a bit more humidity in the air, but the cool weather made that less of an issue. I still felt confident that I could have a good race.

The race start itself was somewhat unusual and mildly amusing: the starter pistol fired early. I was watching the clock at the start line counting down, and the gun went off with 17 seconds remaining! From where I was, back a bit from the line, there were some amused glances and shared chuckles, but we soon realized that the crowd was moving forward! Of course, the runners toeing the line, who were in it to win it, had naturally taken off at the sound of the gun, and there was no way they would stop, retrace their steps, and start over. So, naturally, the rest of us followed. I noticed as I crossed the line that the starting clock had been disabled. I figured they'd recalibrate it by the time everyone had cleared, but thanked my lucky stars and technology dependence that I had my Garmin. Despite this initial confusion, I still felt confident that I could have a good race.

I made my way along the first mile, the (relatively) flattest part of the course. I told myself that I could run a 9:15 pace for that first mile, knowing that I'd be able to make up that time on the rest of the run by hitting just under 9-minute pace. I remembered the steep downhills on the course, and figured I could easily make up some time on those. After the first mile, as the course turned into Garden of the Gods Park and the first steep uphill, I pushed myself and attempted to increase my pace to sub-9 minutes. I felt pretty good, still rested and confident that I could have a good race. As I topped the first hill and began the descent on the other side, I increased my turnover and let gravity take control. Before I knew it, I was almost sprinting down the steel decline (I confirmed later that I'd broken 6-minute mile pace). However, as I was tearing down the hill, I told myself that it was a mistake, that I'd end up burning out too soon. I was no longer confident that I could have a good race.

I think that was when I really lost my edge in this race. Lately I've been struggling with self-doubt and negative thinking, and I believe what happened here today at that point is another example of that. I told myself that I was going to burn out because I was going so fast on that (ridiculously steep) downhill, and I let myself believe it. So when I started climbing up the next hill, I felt my energy disappear. I was still holding between a 9 and 9:15 minute pace, but I'd already persuaded myself--2 miles into the race!--that I was done for. My spirits rose a bit at the next downhill, just past the 2 mile mark, and I let myself speed up; but on the next steep climb I let it happen: I walked. It wasn't for long; but as I've said before, once I let myself do it once, it becomes easier and easier to do it again and again. I'd lost all confidence that I could have a good race.

This pattern repeated itself for the next several miles: on the descents, I would increase my turnover and let gravity take control. Then, on the uphills, I would slow down and eventually walk to the crest. I was getting angrier and angrier with myself for letting it come to this. Then, as I made my way along the path through the park (approaching mile 5), I began to feel a little dizzy. I focused on keeping myself moving, and prayed that I wouldn't trip or collapse. I feared I was becoming dehydrated, but told myself I was imagining things.

Ever since I'd started to walk, I'd begun playing leapfrog with, well, several runners; but one in particular caught my eye: a girl with twin tattoos on her lower back, one a red bird with devil horns and the other the same bird in blue, with an angel's halo. As she passed me in the park, she called out encouragingly, "Come on, you're doing great, more than halfway done!" Sure enough, on the next downhill I pulled ahead of her, and maintained my lead for a bit, but as before she caught up to me on my next uphill walk. We continued this until the steep climb up to mile 7, at which point she passed me for the last time. She soon pulled out to a respectable lead, and I despaired of ever seeing her again.

Miles 8 and 9 were my slowest of the day. I was deeply discouraged and disappointed in myself and all the walking I'd let myself do. I was no longer feeling dizzy; but my calves were spasming slightly, a sure sign that I was dehydrated. And now I was beset by a new, odd complaint: my right foot felt slightly numb, like it was falling asleep. It wasn't completely without feeling, but I worried that I might step badly and twist my ankle. I tried as hard as I could not to focus too much on these things, but instead to keep my attention on the fact that I was almost done. That proved exceptionally difficult. I'd spent so much of the last 7 miles listening to my negative self-talk that I was really having trouble banishing it.

The sight of the mile 9 mark helped in that regard a great deal. Knowing that I only had a mile left, I began to push as hard as I could. Unfortunately it didn't feel like I'd sped up all that much. But then I saw something in the distance that lifted my spirits tremendously: a matching pair of red and blue tattoos! Yes, Tattoo Girl was only a half mile or so ahead of me. I wondered idly if I might catch up to her before the end...the sight of those birds gave new life to my tired legs and pushed all negative energy right out of my head. Hearing the crowd noise as in the last half mile helped too, as did seeing my sister cheering for me in the final stretch. I saw the finish line clock inching its way towards 1:36:00. I poured the last bits of energy I had into my legs, driving myself across the finish line just before the clock turned over that minute. My final time according to my Garmin: 1:35:25.

I'm not particularly happy with today's race. I did not run smart. I ran very unevenly. I let negative thoughts and self-doubt affect me to an alarming degree. My friends all say I'm being too hard on myself, that 95 minutes and change is still a fantastic time for a 10 mile course, especially one as deeply challenging as this. Besides, I only missed beating last year's time by less than 20 seconds. I know that, and understand it, and appreciate it. But I know I can do better. I should have done better. I let myself slow down, and so I let myself down. I have got to work on getting rid of that self-doubt. Fortunately I have some resources that should be able to help me with that.

Time: 1:35:25
Total Races: 7
YTD Race Miles: 95.9
YTD Total Miles: 519.7
Unexpected Bling: For the first time, I got a medal for finishing this race!

BolderBOULDER 10k 2010

2010-05-31T20:19:00.011-06:00

I don't usually suffer from pre-race jitters, at least not so badly that I can't sleep the night before. But last night I didn't fall asleep until almost 11 and was up by 4:30. I think there were a couple of reasons for this. One was excitement for my sister, who was going to run her first 10k race. The other was excitement for myself--I was feeling pretty good about my chances for breaking 50 minutes this time. Of course, I was steadfastly ignoring the voice in my head that repeatedly pointed out that I'd run a marathon two weeks ago. And I refused to think about the last time I'd run the BolderBOULDER two weeks after a marathon--in 2007, after Colfax. After all, this year I haven't run at all since Cleveland, except for two very easy short Saturday runs with my friends. I was going into today's race rested and determined. But you know what they say about those who don't learn their history...

On the drive up this morning I discussed strategy and logistics with my sister. For one thing, my race started at 7:10 and hers at 8:55. Which meant that I would be done nearly an hour before she would even start! We agreed that she would position herself on the sidelines near the start to cheer for me when I went past, and I told her I would meet her at the 2k mark during her race, and run the rest of the way with her (at least, I told her I would try. I didn't know how much I'd have left after my own race!). When we got to the starting area (using a primo parking space suggested by a friend of hers), I gave myself a quick warmup mile and stretched. We hugged each other "Good luck" and I made my way to my corral.

As the clock inched towards my start time, I tried to quell the nervous energy I felt radiating through my arms and legs. I didn't want to let myself start too quickly and burn out. I tried to remember the lesson I'd learned last year, when I'd flared out after the first two miles following the angry burst of speed I'd used at the start to make up time (on a related note, I had learned one lesson, and double-knotted both of my shoes). I still intended to run an aggressive race, but I wanted to maintain control this time.

Even so, I let my speed get away from me a bit at the start of the race. Caught up in the excitement, I let my pace creep slowly up to around 7:30 for most of the first mile. I eased off a bit to finish in 7:44. It was a touch more aggressive than I'd wanted, but I felt confident that I could hold the 8-minute pace I wanted for the rest of the race. My split for the second mile was 8:13, which meant I'd lost all the extra time I'd built up in the first mile. At the time I figured I'd be able to maintain a steady pace and could still come in under 50 minutes. But as the course turned onto Glenwood and the 4k mark, the fact of my sleepless night (combined, I guess, with the fact that I was more tired after Cleveland than I thought) began to tell on me. My splits for miles 3 and 4 were both just under 9-minute pace, thanks to some (thankfully, short) walking breaks.

I have to admit, I was depressed. I told myself I'd let myself down, that I should have been able to keep my pace. I was still pointedly ignoring the voice in my head that was still pointing out that I'd run a marathon two weeks ago. In fact I rallied a bit in the 5th mile, which I finished just under 8:14 (8:13.99 actually). But then I slowed again, crawling along at about 9:15 pace for a quarter mile or so. I just couldn't get my legs moving any faster, and was resigning myself to a slow finish after all when I heard someone call my name. I looked and, coming up next to me, was Laura from Runner's Edge! Somehow, out of all the 50,000+ participants each year, she and I always manage to find each other. "How are you doing?" she asked. "I'm dying," I replied. But, somehow, seeing her (again!) gave me my third wind, and I increased my pace slightly for the last hill on Folsom. I turned onto Stadium Road, drawing on everything I had left to finish as strong as I could. That last little rally helped me run mile 6 in 8:55. I kept pushing as I ran through the stadium, finishing triumphantly in 52:30. It wasn't a PR, but it was my second fastest 10k.

After spending about 45 minutes recovering in the stadium and chatting with some friends, I made my way up Folsom to meet Sara at the 2k mark as we'd agreed. As it happened, I got there just in time and still nearly missed her. She called my name and I joined her on the course. We ran along at what was, for her, a solid effort that she'd have to work to maintain for the whole race, taking regular walk breaks. Personally I was glad for the breaks...In due course we made it to the last hill up Folsom. At the 9k mark (bottom of the hill), I told Sara, "Okay, that's it, no more walking. We're going to run out this last 'k'." "No problem," she said.

As we turned onto Stadium Drive, I exhorted her to pick up her pace even more. This, however, proved problematic as for some inexplicable reason people were walking! Seriously, I don't get it. And I'm all about the walk breaks. I understand making them a regular part of your run (I've done that in my last 4 marathons and PR'd each time), and I definitely understand doing that when you're tired (that happened to me 3 times today). But when you've got less than a quarter mile to go? Why would you walk? Slow down if you need to, but come on! You're so close! Sara and I bobbed and weaved our way into the stadium as I continued to urge her to run as fast as she could. She did, giving herself a very strong finish for her first ever 10k!

Official Time: 52:30
Total Races: 6
YTD Race Miles: 85.9
YTD Total Miles: 502.3
Most Inspirational Moment: The first three finishers of the Men's Elite race, all from Team Ethiopia, crossing the finish line together, hands clasped and raised skyward in victory.

Cleveland Marathon 2010

2010-05-16T13:37:00.008-06:00

"Why Cleveland?" a lot of people asked me. "Why not the Cincinnati Flying Pig?"

I had a few reasons for running the Cleveland Marathon. One, it was very cheap: cheap entry, cheap flight, and (thanks to my Dad) cheap room. Two, it was low and flat, at between 500 and 600 feet elevation. Three, I was running it for a girl: my friend JaCinda who, with a bunch of her Royal Oak MI running friends, was driving down for the race. Four, I would have a chance to visit a small, recently-renovated house on Kimberly Ave--the house where, in 1938, a young boy named Jerry Siegel conceived the idea of the greatest hero the world has ever known: Superman.

Monday I did take some time to visit the house. I got some great pictures of the front, which as I said was recently cleaned up and repaired and repainted thanks to author Brad Meltzer and the Ordinary People Change the World Foundation. I knocked on the door, but nobody was home. My kid sister says that was weird, that I wanted to look into some total stranger's house. She doesn't get it.

But before I made my little pilgrimage, I ran a marathon!

Sunday morning dawned with a clear blue sky and promises of a gorgeous but still cool day. This sounds nice, but the forecast for all of last week had promised mostly cloudy skies! So, that was BS. Instead of mostly cloudy, it was all sunny. Fortunately it was still plenty cool; and, as I'd learned on the course tour on Saturday, there would be plenty of coverage and shade as I ran. I will say this much for Cleveland, there's a lot of trees.

I started out feeling strong and very ready for a great race! I kept the 4:00 pacer in my sights (in the distance) for as long as I could, and covered the first 10k in 58:56. I was definitely on track for a 4:05 marathon, maybe even sub-4! I told myself this for the first 9 miles as the course wound through downtown and into one of the small neighborhoods to the west before heading back to downtown. I was pleasantly surprised at all the spectators out cheering--it almost seemed like every house in that neighborhood had someone cheering for us. Although, I do wish they'd had more diverse music tastes. Seemed like every house was blaring either "Beat It" or "Sweet Home Alabama."

At about mile 9 I developed a bit of an interesting problem. Thank to some frustrating headphone issues, I was running without my iPod and my Star Wars. I'd been doing okay without it so far, listening to the cheers in the neighborhoods, the music, and the conversations around me. But at this point, out of nowhere I started having serious self-doubt. Despite the fact that I was running a great race, I was just not feeling it. I have no idea what brought it on, or why; but I found myself contemplating turning off to follow the half marathon course to the finish and quitting. I knew I'd never be able to live with myself if I did that; but try as I might I could not shut out the voice that was telling me to give up. Making this worse was the fact that, as I approached that point, spectators were shouting "You're almost finished!" Of course they weren't talking to me, they were cheering for the people running the half marathon. I had to tune them out and focus on convincing myself that I did not want to quit.

In the end, of course, the part of me that knew I'd never live down giving up halfway through the race won out, and I kept going straight when the half marathoners turned right. Still, I wasn't entirely sure I'd made the right choice until I reached the halfway mark and glanced at my Garmin. According to that, I'd been running for 1 hour, 59 minutes, and 58 seconds! That did it. Reaching the halfway point in less than two hours gave me a huge burst of confidence that was sufficient to blast that negative self-talk right out of my head. Taking its place was a wild thought: could I possibly finish the marathon in less than four hours?

Of course, loyal readers (and my friends...and anyone who will listen) will know that my goal is to break four hours when I run the Chicago Marathon in October. But this new thought, that I could do it in Cleveland, led me to several interesting mental scenarios that kept me occupied for the next several miles as the course wound its way east, parallel to the shore of Lake Erie. If I broke 4 hours in Cleveland, I said, I could take it easy at Chicago, and just stroll along. Or, alternatively, I could throw myself even deeper into the water. I could take a page from my Olympic hopeful friend Jason's playbook and ramp up my mileage and increase my training intensity and hope to shave off another 55 minutes and qualify for Boston! I was so caught up in these visions that I'm afraid my pace started to get away from me. I wasn't sprinting, but I was definitely moving a bit faster than my pace band dictated. More than once I had to force myself to slow down a bit or risk burnout.

Miles 18 to 21 were in Rockefeller Park on the east side of town. This is a very pretty park that's very nicely shaded, with some fantastic gardens, and a very Central Park vibe to it. Unfortunately, in contrast to the neighborhoods where every resident seemed to be on his porch cheering, the park was virtually deserted. It was a good spot for some quiet contemplation, but I was needing some more distraction. I started to slow down, although I was still on pace to finish sub-4:05 as I climbed out of the Park and onto St Clair Ave. Then I was in for a VERY LONG 2 1/2 miles. St Clair is a major road into downtown, so there were businesses lining the wide street. Translation: very little shade. The sun, of course, had been shining all day, and now I was starting to feel it.

There was one amusing moment on St Clair. Several times during the race, spectators had shouted "Go Superman! Batman and Robin are just ahead of you!" I thought they were all just having some fun with me. But as I ran along St Clair, I saw two men ahead of me, one wearing a grey shirt and blue cape, and the other with a black cape, red shirt, green tights, and a mask. Batman and Robin! I caught up with them in short order and we laughed and hi-fived. I briefly toyed with the idea of hanging back with them so that we could all finish at the same time, but soon discarded that idea. In fact, I have to admit, as much as I was starting to hurt by that time (and I was), and as much as my pace had slipped, I didn't want the Dynamic Duo to beat me to the finish! Just as the thought of how I would feel if I'd quit got me through the halfway point, the thought of being beaten by those two pushed me through the final miles.

At about 25 1/2 miles, my Garmin died! When that happened in St George, I'd poured my frustration in to my run and picked up my speed. This time, I didn't have enough left to do that. Instead, I just slogged along at what felt like a snail's pace. I turned onto Lakeside for the last half mile. I could see the finish line in the distance...it seemed so very far away! I studiously looked anywhere but directly in front of me. At the 26 mile mark, I first heard and then saw JaCinda and some of her friends cheering for me on the sidewalk. Then I focused all my attention on the finish line. As I drew closer, I could see the finish line clock. It was slowly creeping up on 4:12:00. I'd been about 3 minutes behind the clock for the entire race, and even though my Garmin was dead and I was running slower, I figured I was still pretty close to that range. I managed a slight increase in speed, crossing when the clock read 4:11:54.

I made my way to the Live Results tent, where I was told my final time. He had to tell me three times, partly because I could barely believe it, and partly because I'd need the repetition to keep from forgetting. Four hours, eight minutes, and forty-nine seconds. Fantastic.

Official Time: 4:08:49
Total Races: 5
YTD Race Miles: 79.7
YTD Total Miles: 481.1
Seriously, United?: My flight out left from gate B92. My flight home arrived at gate B88. I've never had to walk across the entire concourse before, much less twice!

Platte River Half Marathon 2010

2010-04-11T12:58:00.010-06:00

I almost didn't run this race.

I'd put it on my birthday list last month, but the race sold out so quickly that I figured I was SOL. But on Friday morning, my friend Barb posted a note to the Runner's Edge of the Rockies message board: she was recovering from an injury and felt it more prudent to sit this one out. But she didn't want it to go to waste, and so she offered to give it to anyone who wanted it. It seemed like a sign to me: I was destined to run this race. Even then, I chewed and hemmed and hawed all day. I'd been feeling kind of tired, and hadn't had a great running week, and was probably overtrained, and could stand to not run this one race. But that afternoon, as I was driving up to Estes Park for a gig with my a capella band, Cool Shooz, I convinced myself that, because I'd had such a blah week, I could really use a good confidence booster. I'd heard mostly positive reports about the course, and figured this could be a good race for me. I arranged to meet with Barb at the expo on Saturday, and we got her number reassigned to me.

Sunday morning I drove to downtown Littleton. I found several friends from both Runner's Edge and Runner's Roost at the starting line. We chatted for a while and wished each other luck while waiting for the race to start. I mentally went over my pacing strategy which I had developed the night before: 10 minutes for the first mile, 9 for the second, and 8:30 for the rest. That would get me to the finish in slightly more than 1 hour 52 and a half minutes. It would be a challenge, I knew, to maintain that 8:30 pace for 11.1 miles, but I believed I was up to it. After all, I'd held that pace for the Frosty's Frozen 10 Mile in February, and this was just 5k more.

As the race started, I settled into my easy warmup pace and let myself get distracted by some of the conversations near me. As I drifted along, I heard a voice at my shoulder ask, "Is there any race you don't run?" Looking to the source, I saw fellow Runner's Edge member Frank smiling at me. I was glad to have a friend to chat with for a bit, even though I knew Frank would soon leave me in his dust. He graciously held back, though, and we ran together for the next two miles, during which time my pace increased slightly to around 9 minutes per mile.

After he left me behind, I increased my speed a bit more, going for the 8:30 pace I'd planned. By this time, of course, I had left the streets of Littleton and was now running along the Platte River Trail. Fortunately the crowd had thinned, so the fact that we were now on a narrow trail wasn't as much of a problem as it could have been. And although the cement trail was only so wide, there was a wide--and soft!--shoulder on either side. As much as possible, I ran on the crusher fine shoulder, counting on the soft surface to pay dividends later in the race.

The next several miles were fairly uneventful as the trail wound its way out of Littleton and through Englewood and Centennial and into Denver. I felt strong and held an even pace. I passed a number of runners who were starting to slow down, and jockeyed for position with a handful of others for a time. I leapfrogged with a few who would pass me as I walked through aid stations, only to have me overtake them again a mile or so later. I saw some other Runner's Edge friends on the trail: Dave at about mile 10, Michelle at 6 or 7, Jessica around 11 who ran with me for about a quarter mile before leaving me behind. I saw Bret cheering and taking pictures near mile 3, and Steve doing the same closer to mile 11 (his wife and one of his daughters were running the race also). I also saw the same spectators a couple of times, folks who would wait for their racer to pass and then drive a few miles down and do it again.

Annoyingly, I felt myself starting to slow around mile 11. I was running out of steam, and knew I still had the one, big hill ahead of me. I'd been warned about it before, but figured I'd have enough still in my tank by the time I got there that I'd be able to handle it. Little did I know...

By the time I reached the bottom of that hill, at the 12 mile mark, I was almost completely out of energy. I had slowed from an easy but speedy 8:30 average to just under 10 minute pace as the trail turned and climbed slowly along 8th Avenue, up and over the train tracks. Try as I might, I couldn't find the energy to push myself faster up the trail. I dug as deep as I could, but that was just to keep myself from walking. Finally, after an eternity, I reached the top of the climb. The trail flattened out for a bit before beginning the descent on the other side. At last I was able to let gravity work to my advantage, and although I didn't make up much time, at least I was able to keep moving as I left the trail and ran along the streets for the last half mile. Seeing the cheering spectators lifted my flagging spirits, particularly when I recognized John from Runner's Roost. "Almost there," he said with an encouraging smile. After smiling back, I grit my teeth and focused on the bend in the road near the sign that read "Mile 13."

I made that final turn and saw the finish line, only a tenth of a mile away (but it sure looked like more than that!). I poured everything I had left into covering that distance as fast as I could. I could see the finishing clock ticking off the seconds, inexorably counting up. It was just about to turn over 1:54:00 as I rounded the corner; I knew I could finish before the clock read 1:55:00! I had to! I pumped my arms furiously, using their momentum to drag my legs forward with them. With only a few yards to go, I saw the clock turn over 1:54:30! I crossed the line at 1:54:34, arms thrown triumphantly upward! My chip time I knew was closer to 1:54:25. I was certain I'd set a new PR, but my brain was so fuzzy at the moment that I didn't know by how much--I couldn't quite remember what my PR had been at Disneyland (it was 1:56:21, so I'd shaved 2 whole minutes off!). I soon connected with several friends and compared notes--seems like almost everybody had PR'd (and some in some big ways). I also stopped by the First Aid tent, which was staffed by my coworkers at Back to Motion Physical Therapy. And after a quick lunch, I boarded the Light Rail to head back to my car, noting with amusement that the trip back took far less time than the trip out had!

Official Time: 1:54:20
Total Races: 4
YTD Race Miles: 53.5
YTD Total Miles: 186.1
Post-run almost-injury moment: whipping my head around in surprise at the lead singer of the Dixieland Band at the finish, who sounded so much like Louis Armstrong singing "Hello Dolly!" I thought maybe it was ole Satch'mo come back from the dead!

Running of the Green 7k 2010

2010-03-15T22:04:00.003-06:00

My a capella group Cool Shooz performed at the 2010 Harmony Sweepstakes Regional Tournament the night of Saturday, March 13. A good time was had by all as we sang as the last of 7 a capella groups (including one from Utah and one from Texas--it really WAS a regional competition!). We even won several awards, including Audience Favorite and Best Show Performance, as well as Joe winning Best Soloist for our rendition of "Come Together" by The Beatles.

I was pretty excited by this, and hoped that my mojo would continue working until the next morning, when I was going to run the Running of the Green Lucky 7k in downtown Denver. This was actually going to be a pretty key race for me. It was at this race in 2009 that I had a major racing breakthrough: thanks to an article Coach David of Runner's Edge of the Rockies had emailed (called, appropriately enough, "Breakthrough Racing"), I shifted my focus and efforts and pulled off a huge course PR. And for the next year, I PR'd at every distance I ran--sometimes more than once! What better way to cap off such a fantastic year of running, I thought, than to do it again at this year's Running of the Green?

Each year I've run this race (including in 2008, when I had to drop out thanks to some careless oaf who trod on my right foot less than a mile into it), the weather has been beautiful. Sunny skies, cool but not cold, perfect race weather really. Not this year. As though mocking my sunny and upbeat disposition (to say nothing of the beautiful weather they'd supplied on Saturday), the Weather Gods conspired to create a day of cloudy skies that threatened rain or even snow, chilly temperatures, and a brisk wind. Of course, ever the optimist, I dressed in my trademark blue shorts and custom-made running shirt--although a small practical voice did insist that I throw tights and a jacket into the car.

Another surprise was the sheer volume of people present at this year's race. Apparently the event had sold out and people were being turned away at race-day registration. I didn't really think too much about it, though, figuring that I'd put myself close enough to the front that it wouldn't present a problem. I put the crowd out of my mind and focused on my strategy ("Run fast at the beginning, run fast in the middle, and run fast at the end!") while Coach David led us on an easy warmup jog. I took advantage of that time to go over my body, looking for any aches, pains, or issues that might cause me trouble. I found none. I was ready and confident that I'd have a good race, crowd or no crowd, chill or no chill!

But when I put myself into the crowd, I made the mistake of going back too far. There were hundreds of people between me and the starting line (as compared with last year, when there were maybe 30). When the gun went off, I inched forward v-e-r-y slowly with the massive crowd. When I finally reached the starting line I was able to break into a sort of half-hearted jog, because the crowd had not yet begun to thin out. Complicating things still further was the fact that the finish line banner, barely 100 yards past the start (this was new, by the way), was sagging down, creating an odd bottleneck for the crowd. Once I was past that, I was able to start my race; but I'd lost precious minutes up to that point. As the course turned onto 17th and then onto Market, I dodged and weaved through the crowd, looking for openings where I could and surging through only to be forced to slow down until another opening presented itself. In retrospect this was probably a mistake, as I burned precious energy on these spurts.

When the course turned onto 20th I was able to move into the open and pick up some speed. 20th St rolls up and down a few times before ramping up and crossing over the highway. I actually enjoy this part of the course. I have fun pushing up the hills and coasting down, increasing my leg turnover and letting gravity do the rest. I set my eyes on a landmark at or near the top of the hill and focus all my energy on pulling myself towards it. And, the crowd having finally thinned out after about 4/5 of the way through that first mile, I had been able to pick up some speed and move my way forward through the pack. As I turned onto Central, I felt I was hitting my stride. My energy was high, my legs felt strong, and my effort (without looking at my actual pace) felt on target.

I finished the first mile in 8 minutes and 31 seconds, more than a minute slower than I'd planned on, thanks to that enormous crowd and very slow start. I knew I wouldn't be able to make up that much time, and that my dreams of a massive PR were essentially gone. But I still felt confident that I could have a very strong race; and even if a PR wasn't in the cards, I'd go down swinging. The crowd had thinned out somewhat, and as I completed the second mile I continued to pull ahead of other runners. That second mile is mostly uphill, which again I seem to enjoy. I finished it in 8 minutes and 6 seconds.

According to the "Breakthrough Racing" article, the midpoint of a run is the time to increase intensity, to really start a push to the finish. If done right, this is the part of the race where you can make up for some lost time. I increased my effort at this point, helped in no small part by the general downhill angle of that third mile. But something was wrong. Even though I'd been steadily increasing my speed since breaking out of the throng of runners, even though I'd been consistently passing other racers, even though I had energy to spare.....I'd lost...something. I wasn't sure what it was, exactly, but I'd lost it. I wasn't going to PR. I slowed to a brisk walk through the water stop at 3.8, and gave myself an extra 10 or 15 seconds recovery time after that, hoping to find.....whatever it was I didn't have any more. Finally, spurred on more by the seventh or eighth runner to pass me rather than any inner discovery, I began to run again.

I pulled myself over the highway crossing and back onto 20th street. Having finished mile 3 in 7:48, I'd reached the point at which, last year, I'd realized I was going to PR in a big way. And although I knew that wasn't going to happen this time, I still felt that I could push my pace harder. I was still feeling strong and knew I was making good time. I reached back to last year's race and found the excited but serene energy I'd had, and channeled that into my legs for the push up the last hill before turning onto Wazee. From there out, the course would be flat as it wound through the streets of LoDo. I focused all my attention and energy on pushing harder, getting ready to make my final push in the last half mile.

I finished mile 4 in 7 minutes, 31 seconds. With just over a quarter mile to go, I tuned out everything but the back of the runner in front of me. With determination, I closed the gap and moved past him, then reset my sights on the next one. In this methodical fashion, I moved my way up through the pack, turning onto 15th and then back onto Wazee. As I made that final turn and saw the finish line, I zeroed all my attention to that low-hanging banner. I was already running as fast as I could, but for that last block and a half I dug deeper and found the last bit of energy and inspiration (and determination) that I could, and used it to force my legs to move even faster. They obeyed, and I crossed the finish line at 34:47. This was not a PR--I missed that by 58 seconds--but it was a good race, a solid race, and about as fast a race as I could run under the circumstances. Of course, if I'd set myself closer to the front.....but if "ifs" and "buts" were candy and nuts, etc.

This may be the part where you're expecting me to get all philosophical, and say that I've learned a valuable lesson. That I was so caught up in my own successes over the past year that I'd figured another PR was inevitable, and forgot that there were things that happened that were beyond my control (i.e. the weather), and other things I could have done differently or better (seeding myself closer to the start, not taking as long a break in the middle). You might be expecting that, and I could easily go that way because there's some truth to it. But I'm not disappointed in my results (well, maybe a little. It's the first race of the year that I haven't PR'd). I had a good race and a fun time. As with any race, there are positive and negative elements that I can take and learn from, to improve my performance at the next one. Because that's what I try to do. Sure, I have fun at my races, but part of the fun for me--a big part, as I'm discovering--is being able to consistently improve, even if that means walking away from a race with a lesson instead of a new PR.

Well how about that.....I got philosophical after all. Thanks for reading!

Official Time: 34:47
Total Races: 3
YTD Race Miles: 40.4
YTD Total Miles: 250.8
Sunday's high according to KDEN Almanac: 39 degrees Fahrenheit(!)

Snowman Stampede 10-mile 2010

2010-02-27T17:04:00.006-07:00

The seasons in Colorado are always interesting. We can have sunny skies and 60 degree weather in December, or snow in July, and the complete opposite within hours. As we often joke, if you don't like the weather, wait ten minutes. And although it took a bit longer than that, today's race was a great example. It snowed yesterday morning, and was cold enough at the start of the day that it looked like the white stuff would stick around and make things interesting for today's race. But the sun soon came out and started melting most of it away; and by 3:00 yesterday afternoon the road and trails at Chatfield State Park were mostly clear (according to pictures posted to Facebook by the race director).

I was relieved at the improved road conditions, because I was determined to break 90 minutes for this race. My last 10 mile race was Garden of the Gods in Manitou Springs, and I finished that in 1 hour, 33 minutes, 49 seconds. Before that (at the 2009 Snowman Stampede, in fact) I'd run 1:32:12. And with a half-marathon PR of 1:56:21, it seemed extremely likely that I'd be able to hit my goal. I might even be able to finish in less time--say between an hour twenty and twenty-five.

The race started at 10:05. I'd planned on running the first mile in 10 minutes, then picking up speed to sub-9:50 or so for the rest. But, caught up in the excitement of the day and the perfect conditions (sure it was chilly, but once I was moving I'd hardly noticed except for some wind), the clear roads, and pulled along by the faster runners surrounding me, I wound up finishing the first mile in 8:57! Ah well. I knew if I raced smart, and backed off if necessary, I could hold out. My pace held steady through the next mile and a half, when I got to the first water stop where the first misfortune hit: I slowed to a jog and reached for a water cup from a volunteer, but we missed each other! I was already past him and, with runners coming up behind me, I didn't dare stop and turn around for a do-over. So, no water for me. But I had less than 8 miles to go, and two more chances to get it right (at 5 and 7.5).

I spent the next couple of miles shadowing two very tall men who were running at about my speed. This worked out well for me as there was a bit of a headwind at this point, and the size of my rabbits allowed me to draft them and stay out of the wind. I was sort of running on automatic at that point, still feeling strong enough to hold that pace--which by then had increased to 8:40--through the rest of the race. As the course turned onto a gravel road in front of the marina, I had to focus on my footing more because (wait for it...) I was now running on SNOW! That's right, it hadn't all melted away, but it was plenty soft and made for some tricky footing for about a mile.

As we came off the gravel road and onto the walking trail, I hit the second water stop--successfully! I'd hit the midpoint of the race in 43:37. I was well on target for finishing under 90 minutes, and felt that I could pick up my pace and shave some more time. I increased my pace to target 8:30 for the next few miles. Unfortunately, the next 3 miles on the footpath were still partially covered in snow. Someone had gone over the path with a utility vehicle, and there were ruts where the tires had been which were mostly clear (but not entirely). So of course, that was where people were running, making it difficult to get past them. Difficult, but not impossible.
The last 2 miles of the course were on the path, but parallel to the road and more exposed. Consequently the snow was gone, although there were still some patches of ice--including one very large one at about mile 8.6. I saw it coming and was ready for it, but I still had a brief moment of terror when my foot slid ever so slightly on the slippery surface. "That was too close!" I said to the runner I passed shortly thereafter. Unfortunately, it wasn't the last time I almost wiped out. There were several more patches of ice (and giant puddles from melted ice and snow) along those last miles that made things very interesting and somewhat annoying. I had by this time increased my speed even more--I ran mile 9 in 8:02 and was running the last one at sub-7:30 pace, and the last thing I needed was to have a tremendous wipeout this close to the finish. My mind was equally focused on the ground looking for icy spots, and the runners in front of me.

Actually I had a moment of panic at about 9.25 when I feared I'd made my move too soon. Irritated with following a runner through several puddles, I took advantage of a chance to pass him just at the 9 mile mark (I realized with some satisfaction that this was a runner who had passed me in the early miles of the course). I poured on my speed to pull away from him, but after a quarter mile or so I worried that I'd made a mistake, that he would come up from behind and pass me in the last quarter mile. I was getting tired and didn't know if I'd have enough for a final kick to outrun him. I imagined I could hear his heavy footfalls and breathing right off my shoulder, and dared not look back.

Instead, I focused on the few runners in front of me, and forced myself to push harder and pass them. With a quarter mile to go I could see the finish line. Pumping my arms harder, I pushed my speed even more and soon overtook another runner. With just over a tenth of a mile to go, I could see the finish clock. It had just turned over 1:24:20. I was determined to finish under 1 hour and 25 minutes. I pushed even harder, to a full-on sprint (according to my Garmin, I hit 4:29 pace at the very end), and crossed as the clock read 1:24:51. Of course, my chip time was even faster than that!

So far (knock wood) my New Year's Resolution to PR at every distance is intact. In fact, my plan had been to run a 10 mile race in under 1:30, and I improved on that by an additional 5 minutes (and almost 8 minutes faster than my old 10 mile PR). Next up is the Runnin' of the Green Lucky 7k, which I'm hoping to finish sub-31.

Official Time: 1:24:33
Total Races: 2
YTD Race Miles: 36.2
YTD Total Miles: 169.9
"Go Superman!" count: 7

Phoenix Rock N Roll Marathon 2010

2010-01-22T15:32:00.003-07:00

(“The last race you ran was in October! What happened?” “The economy got in the way of my racing. I had to take some time off.” “Well I’m glad you were able to rest up; but your fans have been waiting to hear about your running!” “I did write that New Year’s Resolution post.” “Yeah, three weeks ago!” “Well, now I’m ready to tell the tale of my first marathon of 2010!” “But that was almost a week ago! What do you think this is, the chronically-late Tisdale Family Christmas Letter™?”)

I flew into Phoenix on Friday afternoon. Incidentally, this was my first time flying Southwest Airlines. A longtime United (and occasional Frontier) passenger, I was amused to discover that Southwest doesn’t have seat assignments. Instead, I was assigned a number when I checked in, and stood in line preparing to board. An interesting way to do it, but I was able to snag an aisle seat. (“And a good lesson for the flight home: check in at the earliest possible time to assure a spot closer to the front of the line.” “Wow. Shades of grade school. Did you have to face forward and keep your hands at your sides?”) After a short and uneventful flight (the best kind), I landed in Phoenix and caught a shuttle to my hotel. I called my baby sister, who was going to drive from LA on Saturday morning, and touched base with her before going to dinner at Joe’s Crab Shack. Then it was back to the hotel to rest and get a solid night’s sleep.

Saturday morning, I caught a shuttle to the nearest light rail station to take the train to the Expo. I got to the Expo shortly after it opened that morning, so there was a comparatively small crowd. I picked up all my essentials and some souvenirs, then spent the rest of the morning wandering up and down the aisles and checking the various sellers’ wares. I even saw Frank Shorter and got his autograph! (“Wait, you got his autograph at the Nashville Expo.” “Yeah, but he didn’t remember me, so it doesn’t count.”) Before I knew it, I’d been at the Expo for almost three hours—and had foolishly spent virtually all of that on my feet! Plus I was hungry. I grabbed some lunch and sat watching a video course tour for a while, before returning to my hotel.

My sister arrived late Saturday afternoon, and she and her friends picked me up at my hotel and took me to dinner. Her friends told me they were excited to see me run, and asked me a lot of questions about my training and my plan for race day. My dad, who flew in late Saturday, had spent some time pouring over maps of the Phoenix area trying to determine where the best places to spectate would be. (“Actually, he probably spent most of the day working it out.” “Must be nice to be retired.”) Since their hotel was within a quarter mile of the finish, the plan was for them to pick me up at my hotel Sunday morning and drive me to the starting area. They would then drive to the first place they would wait for me—near mile 9. (“My dad chose that spot for sentimental as well as practical reasons—it’s near where he went to grade school.” “Is there any place he didn’t grow up?”) After I passed that point, they would wait for me under the Mile 26 sign, then we would reunite in the Family Reunion area.

Sunday morning I was up before my alarm and ready to go! My dad, sister, and her friends picked me up on schedule and we drove to the starting area. They walked with me to my starting corral, and they kept me company for a while and took some pictures. After they left, I realized I had broken one of the cardinal rules of marathon racing: I hadn’t gotten in line at the portajohns! Now the lines were twenty people deep, and the race would start in less than half an hour! I nonchalantly strolled around looking for other options—an open building, a tree, a shadowy corner. Behind a museum dedicated to mining, I saw a group of about eight portajohns tucked away in a semi-secluded area and virtually deserted, of which I quickly made use. (“I commented on my luck to a runner standing nearby. She told me she thought they were the VIP toilets.” “Well that worked then, didn’t it? It was Very Important that you P.”)

I had three pace bands: one for a four hour finish, one for 4:05, and one for 4:10. I figured if I ran the 4:00 pace, my regular short walk breaks would average the miles out to about 4:10 pace; maybe slightly faster as I was going to shorten the breaks after the halfway point. At 7:40 the starting gun fired and the (considerable) crowd made its way through the start line. I crossed at about 7:42. As I approached the timing pad, I saw Senator John McCain (R-AZ) waving to the participants along with the race officials! (“Don’t tell me, you recognized him from his two-second cameo from 24 Season 5.” “Well, he kinda looked familiar…”) Conditions at the start of the race were letter-perfect: very cool, with a slight breeze, and a somewhat overcast sky (making for a very pretty sunrise to boot).

I felt fantastic! After a couple of warmup miles I picked up my speed just as planned. I hit the first 10k split and crossed the timing mat after just over 1 hour. However, I found out after the race that the race’s tracking service, which sent texts to people to alert them of runners’ splits, incorrectly identified that as the 5k split! (“So my family thought it took an hour to run 3.1 miles!” “When they saw you at mile 9 half an hour later, they must’ve thought you’d caught a cab!”) Seeing my family and my sister’s friends just before mile 9 was a big boost for what was already turning out to be a perfect race. I smiled and slapped five’s with them as I passed.

I stayed strong for the rest of the first half. I was feeling very good and confident that I would have enough energy to shorten my walk breaks as planned. However, the first mile I did that, mile 14, was a real challenge. I rethought my strategy to alternate short and long walk breaks every mile. (“You were going to be able to keep track of that as you were going?” “Well, it was nice to have something to focus on other than my feet. Mental acrobatics is a great way to keep myself distracted.”) The new strategy worked well enough for me, and at mile 20 I was still on pace to finish between 4:05 and 4:10. Then, it happened. I bonked. Hard.

I hadn’t really hit the wall in either of my last two races. Things got tough in the last 10k, to be sure (especially dealing with the fierce wind in Oklahoma City), and I had to work for it; but I was able to hold to my pace in each of those races. Not so in Phoenix. Although I felt like I was running as hard as I had been for the last 20 miles, I was starting to slip. My 9:15 average fell to 10:15 for mile 20, then continued to slide down until I ran the last full mile in 12 minutes and 12 seconds! Not helping matters was the sun, which chose to burn through the clouds as I was finishing mile 22. I kept pushing as hard as I could. Although I had given up hopes of a sub-4:05 race, I was still certain I’d be able to set a new PR. Seeing my family at the mile 26 sign was a big boost. (“They told me later there was a big difference between the upbeat and strong version of me they saw at mile 9 and the broken and shuffling creature they saw near the finish.” “Good thing you wear a distinctive running shirt!”) I was able to push a little more, knowing that I had “less than once around a track” to go.

The course zigzagged a handful of times in the last half mile. At every corner, a spectator would say, “It’s just around the corner!” After about the fourth time hearing that, I said to the guy running next to me, “Next person who tells me that, I’m gonna punch him in the mouth.” With a smile, he said, “Well, it actually is just around this next one.” I turned that last corner and, sure enough, there was the finish line! I poured it on as much as I could with what I had left, crossing the finish line in 4:14:54, setting a new PR by 9 minutes and 40 seconds!

Official Time: 4:14:54
Total Races: 1
YTD Race Miles: 26.2
YTD Total Miles: 71.1
Answer to PHX TSA agent's question "Whose bag is this?": "Mine. I ran the marathon earlier today, and that has my race clothes in it; so if you're gonna open that, you better move back."

Resolutions

2009-12-30T20:10:00.005-07:00

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

2009-10-03T13:05:00.003-06:00

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

2009-09-20T16:42:00.003-06:00

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

2009-09-13T21:05:00.005-06:00

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

2009-09-08T10:15:00.011-06:00

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

2009-08-09T13:59:00.014-06:00

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

2009-08-09T11:48:00.018-06:00

("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

2009-07-20T06:25:00.002-06:00

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

2009-07-04T10:57:00.002-06:00

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

2009-06-21T21:36:00.002-06:00

"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

2009-06-14T19:42:00.003-06:00

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

2009-06-07T17:39:00.004-06:00

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

2009-05-31T14:23:00.002-06:00

"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

2009-05-25T20:01:00.005-06:00

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

2009-04-27T22:07:00.006-06:00

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

2009-04-27T13:58:00.010-06:00

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.

Colorado Parkinson's Awareness 5k 2009

2009-04-05T17:53:00.014-06:00

I drove down to Colorado Springs yesterday in a howling blizzard which did not bode well for this morning's race. Actually it could've been much worse--although it was snowing to beat the band and crazy windy and freezing cold, at least the snow wasn't actually sticking to the ground (because the wind was too fierce, I think). The wind continued to howl all night; and the morning, though sunny and cloudless, was still quit blustery. Nothing daunted, however, my younger sister and I made our way to America the Beautiful Park near downtown Colorado Springs (right next door to a large industrial park that was billowing steam into the atmosphere. I think they call that "irony").

During my customary 2-mile warmup, I thought back to my last race, the Runnin' of the Green Lucky 7k, and how strong I had felt on that race. I knew I could do at least as well on this one. I'd been thinking about it for the past few days, focusing on how I'd felt during that last race. I re-read the article on Go-Zone Racing that had been so inspirational and planned out my running strategy--going fast to start, fast in the middle, and fast at the end. Unfortunately I discovered that the first half of this out-and-back race would be run into the heavy wind. This was mildly disconcerting--there had been no wind at Runnin' of the Green last month. But it wasn't going to get me down; nor was the fact that my right ankle started to complain as I wrapped up my warmup.

As my sister and I huddled with the other runners at the start, using them as cover from the wind, I prepared for a strong race. Finally the race director called out "Ready, Set, GO!!" We were off. The course wound a circle around the park before cutting to the right on a crusher-fine trail that paralleled I-25 (about 0.4 miles in). By the time I was there, I was surprised to see that the crowd had thinned and spread out considerably. I was even more surprised to see the lead runner less than a third of a mile ahead of me! Doing a quick count, I figured that I had to be in the first twenty or so runners, maybe even fifteen! And "with a bullet" as they say: I soon passed a few more runners with ease. I was going at a good clip, less "comfortably hard" than "hardly comfortable," but a pace I felt confident I could maintain for the rest of the run. I felt about as I had during most of Runnin' of the Green, and told myself (without looking at my Garmin) that I was on pace for that.

Just past the first mile (side note: there were no mile markers on this course, although there were plenty of helpful volunteers to point the way), I passed the aid station. I'm used to having a water stop at the halfway point of a 5k, so I passed by without slowing. I figured, if I wanted to, I could snag some water on the return trip. Besides, I had just been passed by my first runner since the very start, and was a few feet away from passing another one or two myself. No time to slow down now!

As I made my way along the second mile I could see the handful of runners ahead of me making the turn at about the midway point. As I drew closer, I could see the lead cyclist and first runner coming down the back stretch. I was closer than I'd thought! The closest runner to me had about a .05 mile lead on me. I didn't risk a glance backwards, but imagined that I could hear the breathing of the runner behind me.

As I tore around the turn into the back half, rocking with Nickleback and Metallica, I thought of a recent column in Runner's World Magazine about using imagination during runs. The author told about some running fantasies he'd used--pretending he was on a mission with Jason Bourne, or on the set of a Martin Scorcese movie, or making his way to the stadium before his rock concert (the article, by the way, was inspired by James Thurber's Secret Life of Walter Mitty. A great story. Check it out). "Don't stop running, whatever you do!" I gave myself over to my own heroic fantasy: The Bad Guys had kidnapped my girlfriend, and given me only twenty minutes to find them (on foot, of course) and rescue her. And one of them was chasing me. If he caught me, I was dead--and so was my girl. I focused hard on that sense of urgency, and the adrenaline pumping through my veins. That, and the music, carried me through the rest of the second mile (at the end of which I passed my sister, just finishing her first. We slapped five and swapped congratulations.) and most of the third, until I returned to the concrete trail and the circle around America the Beautiful Park.

Once I could see the park, I risked a glance over my shoulder. My pursuer was a solid tenth of a mile behind me, and for a fleeting instant I thought about slowing down. But I knew if I did, he would catch me. And then both my girlfriend and I would be dead. Which would suck. As I turned into the curve, I increased my pace a little. I was pretty close to the guy in front of me--I'd closed the gap a little in that middle mile. But I didn't have enough in me to pour it on full speed for that last half mile. Then I saw the finishing clock as I approached the final part of that curve.

I almost didn't trust my eyes: here I was, at the 3-mile mark, and the clock read 22:30! I had a chance to come in below 23 minutes! In that instant, everything disappeared--my music, my fantasy, the runner in front of me, and the one behind me. All I could see was the finishing clock. I pushed my speed even more, determined to achieve this goal. Twenty-two forty-five . . . fifty . . . fifty-five . . . fifty-seven . . . fifty-nine . . . DONE!!

Looking around at the small crowd, I felt sure I'd finished in the top 15, and hopeful that I'd finished in the top 10. By the time I'd made my way across the park to get some food and water and then returned to the finishing area, the first page of results was up. Eagerly I scanned my way down from the top. And there it was, in black and white, for all to see:

Place	Bib#	Name	Sex	Age	Time
10	58	Douglas Tisdale	M	33	22:59

I'd done it! My first top-ten finish EVER, and a spankin' new PR (by more than a minute twenty)! I felt high as a kite and lighter than air, and couldn't stop smiling.

And I wasn't the only one destined to PR that day: when I saw my sister enter the park for the last half mile, I ran across to join her and run her in. She'd been walking at that point, but I encouraged her to pick up her pace. As we jogged towards the finish, I saw the clock sitting at 38:30. "C'mon," I told her. "You can finish this sub-40 easily! Let's go!" With me shouting encouragements at her, she pushed her pace even harder, crossing in 39:20, a solid 5 1/2 minutes faster than her best 5k!

Needless to say, we were both extremely happy with today's race.

Official time: 22:59!!
Total races: 7
YTD race miles: 53
YTD total miles: 346.4
Race Rank: 5th in age group, 10th overall!!

Running of the Green 7k 2009 (or: Best. Birthday. Ever.)

2009-03-15T17:51:00.008-06:00

For our training race this session, Runner's Edge of the Rockies ran the Running of the Green Lucky 7k in downtown Denver. This is a fun and surprisingly challenging race that winds its way through the streets of LoDo and then climbs over I-25 to the Highlands neighborhood, before returning to LoDo. Each year the race seems to get bigger, and I'm not sure it isn't the second-largest road race in the state--or at least in the top 5.

Two days before the race, Coach emailed a great article from "Running Times" entitled "Go Zone Racing." The thesis of the article was (stated very plainly at the top) personal records and breakthrough performances...come only by getting out of your comfort zone and into your "Go Zone." After reading the article (several times), I was determined to do that at today's race.

I knew it would hurt. Obviously: I was going to be out of my comfort zone (get it?). But that's part of the reason I've been running so many smaller races this year. I want to get faster, and the only way that's going to happen is by pushing myself. I've had some solid 5k races, but no breakthrough times. This one, could be one. I just had to will it.

Before the race, we all congregated at the Runner's Edge tent (or, to start, a few yards away in the sunlight. MAN Wazee is cold in the shade). Coach led us on an easy warmup jog, combined with some plyometric moves and a half dozen pickups in (I think) Commons Park on the other side. To tell you the truth, I a little was worried after those pickups: I wasn't feeling especially strong during them, and feared I might have done too many. But I tried to banish that negative thinking on the easy jog back to the starting line. After a quick stretch, I inserted myself in the crowd about 15 feet back from the start line, ignoring the voice in my head that said "You're too close to the start." I focused all my energy on a strong race. I told myself I'd try to cover the first mile in 8:15, and pick it up from there. I figured if I thought of it as a mile-long warmup followed by a 5k, that would give me the right mind-set through the race. That, and my rock music. I had my iPod loaded up with Nickelback, Rage, Theory of a Deadman, BB King, "Smooth Criminal" by Alien Ant Farm, and some White Zombie (I know, it's all over the place, but it all rocks pretty hard, and that's what works for me).

At 10:15 the race started (it just occurred to me, I don't remember hearing the National Anthem. It's possible I was just that focused). I settled into a quick pace just on the outer edge of my comfort zone, a pace I knew I could maintain for the whole race but easily pour more into if I wanted. As we turned onto 18th, the close call I'd been hoping to avoid finally came: a runner, making his way through the throng, cut right in front of me, missing me by inches and forcing me to lightly steady myself using the closest runner. Last year, when I ran this race, the exact same thing happened at the 1 mile mark, except that time, the runner cutting across me stepped on my foot and twisted my ankle. It is still the last time I had to drop out of a race (knock wood), and had been my biggest fear for today. Fortunately, this year he missed me, and I was able to keep running.

As the course turned onto 20th I faced the first climb, after easing into a nice downhill. I turned it up a little for the uphill. I don't know why, but I really seem to enjoy powering through hills (I blame RER speedwork and The Parker Run). I passed a number of runners, including some friends, as we climbed out and over the bridge over the highway. Shortly after that (at about 2.4), as I came into the Highlands area, was the water stop. I slowed to a walk as I got some water, and then picked up the pace again. Highlands is very hilly, by the way. I have a friend who lives in that area, so I've walked those streets a number of times. I pushed my pace along the uphill, wanting to make up a little time from my walk break, and looking forward to the downhill that Newton dictates must exist.

After that downhill and one last walk through the water station, it was back over the bridge and into LoDo. Thanks to my walk breaks, I leapfrogged with some friends during those mid-miles, but on the bridge crossing I was able to pass them once again. Then I had the two climbs along 20th, after which I knew it was smooth sailing and time to pick up my pace a little. I was feeling strong, and although I hadn't looked at my watch since turning over my first mile, I felt like I'd been staying on track. I'd run a good-but-still-comfortable pace for the first mile, and tried to pick it up a little until the halfway mark, at which point I pushed myself even more. I was now just outside of my comfort zone, running what felt like a pace I could force myself to maintain for the last 2 miles. Sure, it would hurt by then, but that was the point.

At this point I need to apologize to any friends who I may have passed during that return mile along Central and Blake. I dimly recall hearing people calling my name or saying "Go, Superman!" But I was so focused on pushing myself, I may not have acknowledged you. If that's the case, I am sorry.

I visualized the course in my head as we turned onto Wazee and then 19th: "Seven blocks to go...now six..." I was running out of steam, but knew I could have a strong finish. However, I had forgotten in my excitement that the course doesn't turn on 16th; it turns on 15th! Aargh! But when I passed the 4 mile mark and I hadn't thrown up yet, I knew I could pick up my pace even more. And then, turning back onto Wazee and seeing the finish banner, I dialed it up again for those last two blocks. I was so focused on pushing myself as hard as I could, I only remembered to throw my arms up in my finishing pose with about a half-stride to go!

My official time was 33:49, which is a 7:47 pace. That makes this the fastest race I have ever run (to date). Coach Dave called it a "huge breakthrough race." I tell you what, it was exactly the shot in the arm I needed. I've run some good races this year, but I've always thought I could do more. Now I know.

Official time: 33:49
Total races: 6
YTD race miles: 49.9
YTD total miles: 251.3
Prediction for my next 5k: 24:17

That Dam Run 5k 2009

2009-03-01T13:06:00.004-07:00

My March 5k came a day after a challenging long training run with my group Runner's Edge of the Rockies that featured a climb of over 800 vertical feet over the course of 7 miles and a grueling 9-minute pace for most of the back half. Even after a four-hour long nap that afternoon, I wasn't convinced I'd have my fastest race today. But I was sure it would be a fun one.

It was also a pretty chilly one. Temperatures were somewhere in the 40s, with cloud cover and a decent breeze (or is it just "wind" in colder weather? Most times you hear people refer to "a slight breeze" as a good thing, cooling off a too-warm day. If it's already cold, I think people just call it "wind"). I spent some time chatting with some friends before the race, counting on the race itself (not to mention my 2-mile warmup jog) to elevate my temperature as usual.

Unlike my other two 5k races this year, this one was not held at Washington Park; instead this was on the Cherry Creek Dam Road--hence the name (actual conversation: "Hey Keri, why is this race here instead of at Washington Park?" "Well, because it's the Dam Road run."). Thus, the race is an out-and-back. For the first half mile (or just short of), runners are allowed to cover the entire two-lane road, but at that point (after the crowd has thinned somewhat) are moved over to the right side. This has the added bonus of seeing the first-place finishers come streaking past as you're still on your way out (at once very inspiring and somewhat demoralizing: "Wait, they're back here ALREADY!?"). In fact the first finisher came racing past me soon after I hit the one-mile mark (I think I was at about 1.3. That's right, class. This kid had gone almost 2 miles in the time it had taken me to cover just over one). I also had the chance to wave at a couple of my friends who are faster than me as they came back.

I hit the turnaround at the halfway point feeling pretty strong for the ordeal I'd gone through the day before. Since the road was mostly flat with only a slight decline ahead of me in the final mile, I was able to maintain a strong pace of just about 8 minutes per mile. I picked it up only a little and managed to pick off some slower runners as I went--although a handful weren't going to go down without a fight. As I hit the slight decline in that last mile, I opened it up a little more. Although I'd been able to see the finish line ever since turning around, I hadn't tried to look at it too hard. Now I wanted to focus my attention on my goal, and on something between it and me.

When I ran the Valentine's 5k two weeks ago, a runner blazed by me in the final quarter mile much as I like to do myself. Today, that same runner (I recognized the back of his shaved head) had pulled ahead of me towards the very start. I'd thought he'd built up much more of a lead, but here he was, less than a quarter mile away from me as I approached the last half mile! I picked up my speed a little, wondering if I'd be able to pick him off or if he'd put on a burst at the end (or, worse, if he'd fight me fore it like Mark G did at the Super Bowl run!). As he drew closer to the finish line, I drew closer to him. As I crossed the 3 mile mark, he was less than 50 feet in front of me. With a final burst of speed, I pushed past him, crossing the finish only moments before he did. I also scored my fastest 5k time this year.

As I wound my way through the finish chute, a young child handed me a medal! I was impressed by that. I've gotten medals for finishing marathons and half marathons, and even one 10-mile race, but I never thought I'd get a medal for a small-distance race like this (okay, I did get one after a 10k, but that was in England)! This is a nice job, too: sturdy, on a thick band, and it spins in the middle! Keri told me later that it was only handed out to the first 140 or so runners.

Special shout-outs go to RER members Keri, Jen, and Bret (working) and Ted and Tinka (running). It's always great to see friends at events.

Official time: 25:25
Total races: 5
YTD race miles: 45.6
YTD total miles: 196.5
Days until my next race: 14

Snowman Stampede 10-mile 2009

2009-02-21T13:34:00.004-07:00

It snowed last night. Not a lot where I live: there were a couple of inches on the ground and on my car, but none was sticking and it brushed right off. I guessed, though, that there would be snow and possibly ice on the course for the race (out at Chatfield this year instead of Cherry Creek. I still don't know why). This was reinforced by a text message I got from Runner's Edge of the Rockies' Coach David: "Run cancelled. Slick footing. Too much ice." Of course, the RER run starts at 7:30, where the race didn't start until 10; so I figured (hoped) most of the ice would be melted for me.

That sure didn't seem too likely at 8:30 in the morning when I got to the staging area, though. MAN was it cold out there. Fortunately the sun was out, and my car makes a nice little incubator when the windows are rolled up and the sun shines into the front. After collecting my tshirt, bib, and timing chip, I spent the next hour or so resting in the front seat, psyching myself up for a good race. My warmup mile helped loosen some of my kinks, and soon I was ready to start.

Last year, I ran the Frosty's Frozen 5-mile race at Chatfield. This race, also split into 5- or 10-mile options, was set on the same course. I was looking forward to seeing parts of the park I hadn't the first time. I cruised through the first mile, holding myself to about a 10-minute pace. I picked my pace up only a little for the second one, running it in 9:36. And I kept accelerating from there: except for walking through the three aid stations (at 2.5, 5.5, and 7.5), I maintained a sub-9 pace for the rest of the race.

Overall, the course was not flat. There were a few reasonably flat sections, in the first couple miles and at a brief out-and-back just before the halfway point; but some miles were almost entirely uphill (albeit a gentle grade), and mile 8, which twisted along a winding path, bounced up and down a couple of times. I was very conscious of my own breathing for the second half of the race, and focused on long, deep breaths as often as I could.

I did set a new 10-mile PR at this race, shaving about 2 minutes off my Park to Park time from last September (as a side note, it looks like there was no "chip time" for this race, only "gun time"). And the further good news is, since Coach had to cancel the run this morning and reschedule for tomorrow, I don't have to miss out on seeing all my RER friends!

Official time: 1:32:12
Total races: 4
YTD race miles: 42.5
YTD total miles: 150.5
RER training runs missed due to races (YTD) : 0!!

Valentine's Day 5k 2009

2009-02-15T11:36:00.006-07:00

The month of February has certainly been a busy one for yours truly. I had a 5K race on the first. Every night for the rest of the week I had tech rehearsal for my show, "Harvey," at the Parker Mainstreet Theatre. The show opened on Friday the 6th. I ran 16 miles with Runner's Edge of the Rockies on Saturday the 7th, and another performance of "Harvey" that night. Then a pickup rehearsal on the 12th and another show on the 13th, a 10-mile run the morning of the 14th, and then the closing night performance for "Harvey," followed by set-strike and the cast party. And this morning, the Valentine's Day 5K at Washington Park.

Needless to say, I had no expectations of a PR. I told myself I'd be happy finishing in under 27 minutes, but wasn't going to hold myself to that. Sure, I was going to try to push myself; but if I started to fall apart I'd back off and not feel badly about it.

Not helping matters was the freezing temperature at the start of the race (although it was comfortable as long as I was in the sunlight). But after a two mile warmup jog (including some plyometrics), I was feeling much better. I even decided to ditch my jacket and vest for the race (thanks, Steve & Carol for holding on to them for me!).

I started out at a good "comfortably hard" pace that I felt pretty confident I could hold. I stayed sub-8 for the first half of the first mile, and then slowed to sub-8:30 for the rest of it. Oddly, though, I couldn't tell that I was doing that; it felt like I was pushing sub-8 for the entire mile (and I'm getting into the habit of not looking at my Garmin on a 5K--except to make sure it's started)! The second mile was a similar experience: I felt I was going a lot harder than I actually was. I thought I was keeping right around 8-minute pace, but in reality it was closer to 8:20. On the third mile, my perception was closer to the reality, as the entire mile hovered around 8:05 pace and that was about what it felt like. Then, for my last kick, I was able to push up to about 6-minute pace for a nice, strong finish.

(I didn't pick it up as early as I did in my last race, though--I just didn't have enough juice. But I was able to catch up to and then pass a girl I had been pacing for most of the race. Actually, she pulled ahead of me when I slowed at the water stop at about the halfway point; but I caught up to her with about a quarter mile to go and pulled ahead of her at the 3-mile mark.)

Special shout-outs to fellow Runner's Edge members Carol & Steve (cheerleaders and photographer), Tinka and Keri, and Al and pace-group-leader Jen who both ran.

Official time: 25:59
Total races: 3
YTD race miles: 32.5
YTD total miles: 124.5
Hours of sleep the night of Feb 14: 5 (approx)

Super Bowl 5k 2009

2009-02-01T12:10:00.013-07:00

For 2008 I had a goal to run at least one race every month. I ran 16 in all. For 2009 my goal is to run a 5k every month in addition to any other races I decide to run (and since I have a few that are on my schedule as goal marathons or halfs, and a number of races that I ran for the first time last year and want to do again, and several that are on the list by way of being traditional now, it looks like I'll average about two races a month).

My "January" 5k was the Super Bowl 5k at Washington Park. Even before I got to the park, I knew it was going to be a solid race. The set list that KBPI played on the radio during my drive over was filled with hard-and-fast song after song, including some Five Finger Death Punch, some Stabbing Westward and Nickelback, and ending with "Back In Black" by AC/DC. By the timme I got to Washington Park, I was pysched up and primed for a solid race. Even the fact that I mistook the starting time and showed up better than an hour and a half before the race (while Keri and the BKB staff were still setting up the sign-in tents) didn't dampen my spirits.

When people did start showing up for the race, I quickly spotted a few folks from my training group, Runner's Edge of the Rockies: not only Keri but also Laura, Susan, Martha, and Bret (who was there as a volunteer). I spent some time chatting with them before heading out for a 2-mile warmup. Then, after the National Anthem and a kid's race, it was go time!

With my iPod loaded up with my "Fast Race Mix" (which I'm going to have to add to after that radio set this morning . . . man there were some great songs in there!), I set off and quickly settled into a fast sub-8 minute pace. Actually I topped out at better than 6-minute pace for a little there, towards the start. It always happens, without fail: I get caught up in the excitement and have to force myself to slow down (only a little) to avoid burning out.

I had a pretty good experience with very pointedly *not* looking at my Garmin at my last 5k in December, so I decided to do that again here (although I did check at the very beginning, to make sure I'd actually started the damn thing this time). Instead I ran by feel, settling into what I thought would be a good pace for the whole race. When I started to feel myself getting ahead of myself in the first mile, though, I pulled back for the second one. I walked through the aid station just before the 2-mile mark, slapping a high 5 to Bret. It's always great to have people cheering for me on the course, and Bret's enthusiasm is fantastic.

I picked it up again for the third mile. At about 2.5, I was passed by a man wearing a bright green shirt. He was running a good pace, slightly faster than I had been (obviously), but one I felt I could handle for the last half mile. So I let him be my rabbit, staying about a tenth of a mile back. As we came up to the turnoff for the last quarter mile, I decided that enough was enough. It was time to get my lead back. So I picked up my pace a little. I figured I would do a slow build until I caught up with him, then turn it up to full and zip right past him for a solid finish.

It didn't work out quite that way, however. As I caught up to him with less than 0.1 miles to go, I heard him mutter, "Finally, a reason." Then, to my utter and absolute surprise, he turned on the juice himself! By that time I'd reached about a 6:01 pace. But he pushed me even harder. I had no choice but to turn it "up to 11" and power through. But he stuck with me like glue. It was quite literally a photo finish, and easily the most exciting end to a race I've ever had.

I turned to him and shook his hand, congratulating him on an excellent finish. He thanked me for giving him a reason to run hard. The official results show us with the same time, but even he agreed that I had edged him out in the end (although I thought I barely beat him, he said I had him by a good half-second). Thanks, Mark for giving me an excellent finish!

Official time: 25:27
Total races: 2
YTD Race miles: 29.4
YTD Total miles: 72.4
Photo finishes: 1

Disney World Marathon 2009

2009-01-19T08:14:00.016-07:00

I ran my first marathon of 2009 at Disney World in Florida. My Dad came out with me, and so did 17 other members of Runner's Edge of the Rockies. It's always great running with a bunch of friends! I was also able to spend some time marathon weekend with my godfather, Paul, and his wife, Donna.

My Dad and I flew out Friday afternoon and met up with Paul and Donna, who took us to dinner at Raglan's, and Irish pub in Downtown Disney. The food was great, the atmosphere authentic (all the wood had been exported from various pubs in Ireland), the band and Irish step-dancer were very entertaining, and the waitress very cute.

On Saturday I met up with my friend Keri and her sister Kelly, and we headed into Epcot to watch the half marathon finishers. We saw several RER folks, including Dan, Jim, and Gert, all of whom were running the Goofy Challenge--doing the half marathon on Saturday and the full on Sunday. As a mere mortal myself, I trained to run "only" the full marathon (and where else but Disney World can you use the words "only" and "marathon" in the same sentence?). After watching the half marathon finishers for a while, I made my way to Disney's Hollywood Studios, where I again met up with Keri and Kelly, and my Dad and Paul and Donna. That night I met up with Dan, Jill, Gert, Kelly, Angela, and Ann from Runner's Edge for a prerace dinner at the Portobello Yacht Club in Downtown Disney. After an interminably long wait we had a decent meal; then it was time to go back to my hotel for sleep.

I was up at 3:00 the next morning for the marathon (scheduled to start at 5:50 AM!). At about 4:45 I met up with the rest of my teammates for some group photos. Then we headed for the start. The night (early morning) was clear, with a full moon. It was chilly but not cold; but I was glad to have sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt to keep me warm before I started running (another tip from Dan and Jill, who have the Disney World marathon experience down to a science). I moved closer to the start, walking and talking with my friend Jim about our race strategy. When we got as far up as we could go, Mickey, Minnie, Donald, and Goofy stepped onto the stage to start the marathon.

With a burst of fireworks we were off! Jim and I held back to a nice easy pace for the warmup miles. Meanwhile, across the highway median, we could see runners on the Blue starting course zipping by at a much faster pace. Because of the crazy high number of entrants (18,000 this year!), the marathon has two starting courses, Blue and Red. The two courses merged a few miles down the road, in Epcot.

Jim and I made good time through our first few miles, relaxing and enjoying the pace. I was looking forward to having someone to run with for the whole race, which I haven't had for a marathon before. Unfortunately, at the mile 4 aid station we got separated. I turned to get a cup of Powerade, and when I looked back, Jim had completely disappeared into the sea of runners. I was on my own. Ah, well. At least I had my iPod--or so I thought. At mile 7, the iPod--which had been fully charged before I left Denver--suddenly died! Now I was going to have to rely on my brain to keep me distracted! Okay, distractions...hmm... It was like randomly walking up to a comedian in the street and demanding, "Do something funny!" I had nothing. Fortunately, it wasn't too big a deal--yet. I was coming up on the Magic Kingdom, where I knew I'd see plenty to keep me busy. In fact, the trick would be to not get too excited and pick up my pace! As I came through along the east side of the park and into Tomorrowland, I was delighted to see park employees and Disney characters lining the streets, waving and cheering. And then, as we turned on to Main Street, the huge crowd of spectators did a lot to lift my spirits--especially seeing my family!

As I went around and then through Cinderella's Castle and out of the park, the crowd remained pretty considerable. Past the halfway point I was still doing quite well. As I came closer to Animal Kingdom, however, I started to hurt. The sun came out and the heat picked up. As I wound my way through that park, with many fewer spectators, I really started to miss my iPod. Then the muscle spasms started. Well, to make a long story short, that was the beginning of the end for me, and the last 8 miles took an extremely long time. The spectators in and around the parks, and the volunteers along the lonelier stretches helped. Seeing my Dad in Hollywood studios helped for sure, but I had long since resigned myself from a PR-setting race and just wanted to finish strong. I did that, at least, and posted a final time of 4:57:48.

That night, Dan and Jill very kindly invited my Dad, Paul and Donna, and myself to join them and Jill's parents for dinner. We swapped stories about our races and spent a lovely evening together. My Dad and I spent four more days at Disney World: Monday we were at Epcot Center and the World Showcase (Dad's favorite), Tuesday at Animal Kingdom (which, before Sunday, I had never seen before), Wednesday at Magic Kingdom (my favorite), and Thursday at Hollywood Studios. I really enjoyed the Expedition Everest ride at Animal Kingdom, but the coolest part of that day was the African Safari--a jeep ride through a jungle and savannah, complete with lions, elephants, hippos, ostriches, and a pack of rhinos that came within 5 feet of our vehicle (eat your heart out, Jungle Cruise!). I hit all of my favorite rides and had my picture taken with Mickey, who even signed my marathon finisher's medal!

It wasn't my best race, but it's definitely a high point in terms of overall marathon experiences. Not to mention--a week in Disney World!! And I've come away with some good lessons I will apply to the next one.

Official Time: 4:57:48
Total races: 1
YTD Race miles: 26.2
YTD Total miles: 41.3
Photos with Mickey Mouse: 8

Colder Boulder 5k 2008

2008-12-07T16:26:00.006-07:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scream Scram 5k 2008

2008-10-26T22:23:00.005-06:00

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

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

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

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

Omaha Marathon 2008 Part 3: The Race!

2008-10-01T07:35:00.010-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Click here to see my pictures from the weekend.

Omaha Marathon 2008 Part 2: The Buildup

2008-10-01T07:33:00.005-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next: the race!

Omaha Marathon 2008 Part 1: The Journey

2008-09-29T20:31:00.005-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next: the Expo!

Coolest. Thing. Ever!!

2008-09-11T21:03:00.007-06:00

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

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

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

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

"I am," he replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Park to Park 10-mile 2008

2008-09-01T12:14:00.009-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Georgetown Half Marathon 2008

2008-08-10T20:34:00.000-06:00

What makes for a record-setting race?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Donor Dash 5k 2008

2008-08-10T20:32:00.001-06:00

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

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

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

Final time: 25:02

Garden of the Gods 10-mile 2008

2008-08-10T20:30:00.001-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Final time: 1:48:02.

Bolder BOULDER 10k 2008

2008-08-10T20:29:00.001-06:00

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

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

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

Nashville Country Music Marathon 2008 (part 2)

2008-08-10T20:25:00.001-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

Click here to see some pictures from the race.

Nashville Country Music Marathon 2008 (part 1)

2008-08-10T20:13:00.000-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next: marathon day!

Greenland Trail Race 8-mile 2008

2008-08-10T20:09:00.000-06:00

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

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

Canyonlands Half Marathon 2008

2008-08-10T20:07:00.002-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Click here to see my pictures from the trip.

Snowman Stampede 10-mile 2008

2008-08-10T20:05:00.000-06:00

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

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

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

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

Frosty's Frozen 5-mile 2008

2008-08-10T20:03:00.000-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kansas City Marathon Relay 2007

2008-08-10T20:01:00.000-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Denver Marathon 2007

2008-08-10T19:59:00.000-06:00

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

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

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

Fans on the Field 10k 2007

2008-08-10T19:31:00.001-06:00

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

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

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

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

Blue Planet Run 10-mile 2007

2008-08-10T18:57:00.000-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

Georgetown Half Marathon 2007

2008-08-10T18:54:00.001-06:00

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

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

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

London Chest Hospital 10k 2007

2008-08-10T18:52:00.001-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bolder BOULDER 10k 2007

2008-08-10T18:51:00.001-06:00

In 2007: Sub-50.

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

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

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

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

Colorado Colfax Marathon 2007

2008-08-10T18:50:00.000-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

Donor Dash 5k 2006

2008-08-10T18:48:00.004-06:00

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

Greenland Trail Race 25k 2007

2008-08-10T18:48:00.003-06:00

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

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

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

Denver Half Marathon 2006

2008-08-10T18:47:00.000-06:00

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

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

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

Bolder BOULDER 10k 2006

2008-08-10T18:39:00.001-06:00

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

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

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

Welcome

2008-08-10T18:24:00.000-06:00

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

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

Thanks for visiting!