Saturday, December 8, 2012

The Gap



I'm not as cool thought I was.  What is cool at age twelve, is not cool at twenty three (maybe add a few years to that). I can live with that.  Where I struggle, I'm not ageless as I once thought.  Forever young, that's what I'll always be!  Nope, that's what I learned on this trip.  That generation gap will never happen to me, at least that's what I thought at eighteen, caught up with me this week.  The world is changing and I finally feel that I've got my old man pants on, I'm starting to get ornery, and I want to dig my heels in and prevent the changes.  Ugggh, so this is how my parents felt with my music?

Now, I could break down each day with details of our adventures, but this post is about The Gap, which I can summarize in two experiences, both of which made it feel virtual.  As a computer guy, you'd think I'd be all for it, more technology, more gadgets!  After experiencing two days at Universal Studios, thrill rides are now nothing more than four minute movies with seats that simulate motion and a couple of water sprayers.  Was that grumpy old man enough?  The twelve year old loved it!  The twenty three (plus a few) longed for rides that actually did something.  The technology is worth respect, but something is missing, or is this The Gap?

Our time at SeaWorld didn't suffer from too much technology, but it too has changed.  This time I blame society.  Gone is all the human interaction with the killer whales.  It's done in the name of safety, but it completely changes the message of the show.  Instead of watching this amazing interaction between a human and this huge animal which made the mind wonder what is possible, it's now simply a few tricks.  It could easily be replaced by a big screen TV and a couple of water sprayers from Universal.  Maybe the next visit, this is what it will be, The Gap.

Times change. This trip certainly made it clear to me why people get nostalgic.  The Gap is here and suddenly, I feel out of touch with the younger generations.  

              

Saturday, November 10, 2012

The Tradition



Creature of habit, that's what I am.  Don't ask why it started or how it started, but the week before a race it's my tradition to stop shaving.  Then the day before the race, shave and get a hair cut.  I tell everybody it's so I'll be more aerodynamic.  Maybe I believe that, honestly, I like to think it's more about being lazy.  Never change anything come race day, so that's the tradition, deal with it!

Nothing wrong with tradition, well except when you wait until 8 pm the night before to shave and find out that there's no shaving cream in the house and you have to get up at 4:30 in the morning to get to the race.  Looks like my tradition is coming to an end.

Getting up early, driving three hours for a race is my limit.  Granted, I had to run scruffy, but I think the car ride had more to do with my tired legs than the drag from my beard.  At mile two, I felt pretty good.  I tried to stay in control though and stay at my pace.  At the turn around spot, I had caught most of the people who I targeted, but I was also getting tired.  Mile nine, I was slightly slower than the pace I wanted, but I also knew it was over, no goals today.  By mile eleven, I was done, happy simply to finish and call it a day.  Completely a different finish than previous half marathon.

The course was the most boring route to date.  Out and back on an almost straight trail with very little to look at.  Six hours round trip to drive there and back, under two for the race, made for a long boring day.  I don't think even my tradition could have salvaged the day, but my razor's happy!      


Sunday, October 21, 2012

What Was Once Lost, Is Now Found



Lost a month of training.  Lost my marathon.  Lost my mojo, and may have lost my mind.  That's what has been going on.

I'm still injured.  My ankle is better, but still not fully healed.  I can't miss another race though.  Switching from the full to the half marathon made sense.  I could walk a half if I had to.  It has been possible to run, not as much I'd want, but I can do it...put an asterisk after that.  My Achilles still gives me good days and bad days.  At one moment, I'm forced to hobble around like my dad does, the next I'm able to walk normal without even thinking about it.  That part is frustrating, I don't get how one second it's there and the next it's almost as if it's completely gone.  But as I said in my previous post, the choice is easy, I'll race with pain over being a cheerleader.

This summer stunk for training, first it was the ridiculous heat, then it was my injury.  CT still has her goal of qualifying for Boston. My goal has shrunk to simply hoping to to finish without my worst time in a half marathon.  The asterisk from above should state that though I can run, it's nothing like what I could before.  Even though I should be satisfied with just being able to get a few miles in, it never works that way.  The fact I'm not able to cruise at the pace I could before, stinks.

There certainly won't be any PR's for me in this race.  The cool thing about the Grand Rapids Marathon is both the half and the full start at the same time and use the same course for the first nine miles.  My goal was to run with CT, keep her company for as long as I could.

The temps were perfect at the start.  The first four miles few by.  I felt like we were both running very easy and were right with the pace group she wanted to stick with.  She was very nervous and did her usual build up of putting too much pressure on herself.  She'd never admit this, but I think she knew qualifying for Boston was out of her reach this race.  We both lost lots of training miles to the heat and my injury, to make it possible.  Even with that, she still puts tough expectations on herself and I was damn worried how she'd be doing at towards the end.  It didn't help at mile nine, just before we split up she tells me she's tired and ready to be done!  Not much I could say at that point, besides just do your best and I'll come out and find you once I'm done.

Since starting to run again this month, I've pulled off three ten mile runs, one of which was ugly.  I really had no idea how I'd be feeling at this point in the race.  I remember last year on this course it was about this point where I started having problems with my knee.  I felt pretty good.  Part of me said stay conservative because I'm not real sure how I'll be able to finish.  Then there's that other part, maybe just push it a little, then I could back off when I hit mile ten and reevaluate.  Guesses?

My pace quickens.  Passed a few people.  This feels pretty good.  Pass a few more people.  Awwww shit, the song that I initially tried to run away from CT with that very first day just came on.  Coincidence that I just left her?  There IT is....here's what I've been missing for months, runner's high!  Two fist pumps in the air, why I don't know, but that was my signal to those who were behind me, to kiss me goodbye.  From this moment on, NOBODY was passing me and I was back.  With just under four miles to go, I cut six minutes off my finish time.  Not only did I do that, but I got two Gangnam Style dances in the process.  I couldn't resist doing it through a water stop and across the finish line.  Fast, goofing off, and there was still some left in the tank.  Not sure how many people I caught, but a number said things like "good effort" and "keep it up" as flew by.

This is why I love running, 99% of the time it seems hard, but then a moment like this happens and I could have ran through a brick wall...fast.  For as late as it was in the race, these were some of the fastest miles I've done, while still injured.

Did I get a PR?  No.  Yeah, I'm probably still going to have some issues with my ankle.  Maybe I even slowed my recovery even more, but you know what, it was worth it!  I needed that runner's high and that feeling of invincibility.

Crossing the line:

                 

       


Saturday, September 1, 2012

My Achilles Heel



I'm guilty of throwing the term around, I never really gave it much thought.  Heck a couple weeks ago, if anybody asked me, I would have answered the heat.  Now that I think of it, I have a bunch of Achilles heels outside of running, but lets not go into them we just don't have that kind of time.  What is my Achilles heel?  A few weeks ago, the answer was the heat.  Today, my Achilles heel, is actually my Achilles heel.

The last trail run certainly didn't help.  My run today finalized the inevitable.  Where it bothered me for the first mile, then seemed to ease up, today turned to progressively getting worse the further I went.  At mile seven, I knew I had to turn around.  At mile nine, I knew not only had I gone too far, but I couldn't pretend any longer.  I'm hurt.  The remaining six miles to get back to the car weren't pretty.  CT waited for me at the last water stop and told me she could recognize me not by my face, but because how awful I looked.  I know, coming from her, you never know if she's joking or sincere, but in this case it was obvious she was telling the truth.

Achilles Tendonitis is what I've got and I don't want it.  Running a marathon in under two months just isn't going to happen.  Running in general just isn't going to happen.  Visiting doctors, it's best not to ask the questions you don't want the answers to (don't hold me to this, but this is how I do it).  I'm not going to come out and ask how long should I not run, if I shouldn't run my marathon, because chances are their answers aren't going to agree with what I think.  I kept the question simple, when can I run again?  Thirty heel raises on my bad ankle and I have to be able to hop on one foot.  See, totally cleared to not have to miss any races!

This post starts in September, but really it's a post that all encompasses September.  This damn thing doesn't heal.  To make matters worse, I've now missed races.  I've learned something.  Running a race is hard, being a spectator is easy, being a runner who can't run yet has to spectate is torture!  It really is a form of cruel punishment.  There's the physical pain in my ankle, but there's this whole other level of mental anguish that goes along with it.  Part of it is sole searching, but there is a weird form of selfishness.  Cheering and being excited for running friends and family is very easy and genuine, but the whole time that face is on, devil horns are attempting to poke out with thoughts of wondering how I could have done.  The one race, I found myself judging everybody crossing the line.  I admit that while running, seeing the occasional person who I tell myself there's no way that person is going to beat me, but this was way beyond those thoughts.  I flat out don't like it.  I want to be done with spectating.  If the guys in the straight jackets are coming, I still want them to know, even hurt I'll still out run them....just saying.

How long with this last?  I don't know.  All I know is I want my Achilles heel to Achilles heal.         

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Monkey on My Back



CT has been predicting it for as long as I've known her.  Doubt she'd admit for every race, but there have been a few races where she's been bold enough to come out and outright say it "I'm gonna beat you".  I know her well enough to know that any race we enter, even if she doesn't say it, she's THINKING it.  I'm sure she'd disagree with this statement too, but there's only ever really one race where she had a chance.  It was extremely hot, I was over heating like crazy, and she at least gave me a chance, yelling out "I'm coming for you!" in the final stretch.  Just seeing her closing on me, was enough to motivate me, how embarrassing it would be to get beat by a girl!  (Actually, it's not.  Doubt there's been a race yet where I haven't beat all the women, but it's far different losing to CT!)

This weekend was really a unique experience.  It's our first trail race.  It's also the first race where all the Superstars got to not only race, but offered the opportunity for us to camp and hang out together.  Well, almost all of us.  As it turned out one Superstar was injured and another one had some kind of lame excuse and couldn't make it, something about getting remarried, seriously?  Anyway, it made for a really good weekend.

Because we are serious, professional, runners, the whole reason we decided to do the North Country Trial Run was for the challenge!  Got ya!  Really, it's all about the finisher medal.  The thing is the size of your face and weighs as much as a limb.  How could we pass up the opportunity to add it to our collection?  So, we run for the prize, not the health of it, don't judge us!

How did we prepare for this?  One of our Superstars practice by running on the shoulder of the road.  After all, it is gravel!  CT and I stuck with our normal road training, but we did do one run a week with Gazelle's Dirty Herd on trails.  Personally, I thought we did a great job, bring it!

Bang goes the gun.  The first mile of the course is on a paved road.  Suddenly, I felt silly for even bothering trying to run on trails, clearly running on the gravel on the side of the road was even over training.  Mile two, the hell started.  Suddenly, we are in the woods.  Shit, is there even a trail here?  Civilization disappeared and in an instant it felt like I was the Last of the Mohicans.  I bet the bears love this race!  The mile tour of the parking lot, became much more clear.  The purpose was to thin us out, much easier for the taking....or eating.  Passing people became an instant challenge, picking the exact moment to fit between those two trees, while judging if the four inches of trail was wide enough....oh root!

Three miles in, I started walking. Oh man, what is going on here?  Who put this huge hill here?  To say walking at this point was a big kick in the ego, understatement.  But by mile five, I already concluded walking up the hills might be the single best decision I've ever made. Mile eight, is where I needed this race to finish.  Whatever I had to start the race was gone, get the sticks, hopefully I can make a fire, because it was pure survival mode from this point on.  Curious how CT was doing, I happened to look back at one point and through the trees I could see this bright pink shirt rounding up the trail up this mountain.  All thoughts of running my race were gone.  With her so close, I figured might as well run with her and finish together.

One mile into that thought and it was already obvious to me that there was no way I could even keep up with CT.  She was running superhuman at this point and wasn't effected like I was by these Kryptonite coated hills.  Told her there was no way I could keep up, finish strong, and I'd see her at the end.  Bummed about my ankle bothering me, bummed about struggling, bummed about not being able to hang with CT, at this point the only positive I had going for me, at least I hadn't fallen!

Did I mention that's what I was thinking at mile ten?  At mile ten and one tenth, can you guess what happened?  Two barrel rolls later, my pride got the last kick in the shorts.  Sand sticks to you when you're all sweaty.  As I sat there in my dirty clump, the thought did enter my mind "why".  I've had some terrible runs, but I also don't ever remember having that thought, and actually meaning it.  Though, I can't say at any point in time having a screaming charlie horse in my calf at the time either.  Three miles to go, really unsure if my leg would even work.  After some self massage, it did relax.  No point in dusting off, this race beat me up, might as well wear the dirt.

It officially happened, CT beat me.  I want her tested for steroids!  I honestly don't know how she did it.  That was by far one of the most difficult courses I could ever imagine.  We only did the half marathon, people who did the full or the ultra on that, get major recognition from me.  Suddenly, I understand why the medals are so big, they deserve to be that big based on what is required to finish that damn course.

 My ankles may never be the same and I probably won't be able to walk right for a week.  I felt defeated crossing the finish line today.  Those thoughts didn't last long once the rest of our friends finished.  Impossible to be bummed with this group of girls.  I think each one crosses the line more excited than the next.  Thirteen of the hardest miles, huge one pound medals around our necks, and they come up with this for our "team photo".  Yeah, I'll be back next year to remove the monkey.     



    


Saturday, August 18, 2012

First!



Where is the summer going?  Fall is inching closer when it's time for my hometown 5K.  I say that like I've ran it so many times they all blur together.  The reality, this will be the second time running it.  Unlike last year when it seemed like every weekend was a different 5K, this year this it's the only 5K on my schedule.  It holds a special memory for me, not only because it's my hometown, but because my parents get to watch me and lets not forget about the special signs throughout the course last year.

It's a been a long year.  CT has been dreaming, planning, and training to return to RC to lay claim on "her trophy".  I can't even count the number of times she checked the results from the previous year fretting over if the woman who beat her last year would show.  To make matters worse or add even more pressure, my mom sent her a picture of the trophy with her name on it with motivational thoughts, which now hangs on the wall for motivation.  She has trained hard and is faster.

What would a race be without a little secret?  CT has really wanted her dad to watch one of her races too.  It's never worked out, but a few days prior to the race, I got a call from her sister Downhill who informed me that her dad was planning on surprising her at the race.  How could I not help with that?  Never one to back down from some trickery.  Besides, I already had another little secret I was keeping too.

The weather of race day was perfect.  This summer heat has been brutal, it was a cool morning.  We arrived at the race just about an hour early.  No sooner did we get my dad situated, when a truck horn sounded and CT turned to see her dad pulling up.  She normally has a pretty big smile at all times, but after the initial double take, it grew even bigger and brighter.  She had no clue and was very surprised.  I of course played it off like I had no idea (it was all Downhill!).  CT's mind is funny, first she worries about who is going to show up, what if she doesn't win, then it turns to the excitement of her dad being able to watch her (for about three seconds), then suddenly it's all back to feeling pressure to win that damn trophy, because he's watching.

As I eluded to, this wasn't the only secret floating around.  My mom leans over my dad and says "They're not the only ones running today."  "Oh yeah, who else?" asks my dad.  "Me!" my mom gleefully exclaims.  For the past few months, she kept him completely in the dark about her training.  I've got plenty of emails to implicate myself in this deception.  Frankly, I'm kind of surprised breaking the news ten minutes before the start of the race didn't send my dad into cardiac arrest, but I suppose if you are going to keep a secret for that long, breaking it to him in a hospital parking lot is probably the best spot to do it.  It seemed to make for a good story, because the next thing I know, my mom is getting interviewed by a reporter!

Bang goes the gun!  It's funny how things work out, one of the last emails, my mom asked me what she should do the final week leading up to the race.  My "sound" advice was to continue what you are doing and don't feel the need to push yourself.  Trust your training and going above and beyond at this point won't help and will only increase your chance of injury.  Great advice huh?  I think the day I sent that email, I ended up injuring myself.  Twenty-five hundred miles since I've started running with nothing worse than minor aches and pains.  This whole time I don't think I've taken more than three days off, leading up to this 5K it was five days.  I couldn't miss it, but even trying to warm up, my ankle hurt.  I knew this wouldn't be my day, but that didn't matter.

First mile was good, second was slower, and the third mediocre.  Overall, I did better than I thought I would.  CT wants that damn trophy, all I wanted really was to beat my time from last year.  I couldn't do it, nine seconds slower than last year, but with a bum ankle, so I'll take it.  Waiting at the finish line, CT crossed the line with the same smile she had when she realized her dad was there.  Which, that by itself is impressive, because it has ALWAYS been a grimace prior.  It probably also helped that she not only got her PR, but she crushed her previous best by over a minute.

Officially my race was done, but I had to go run my mom in.  There aren't many moms out there who decide to run their first 5K at 68 years old.  I found her about a mile back.  I pride myself in coaching the girls I run with (okay, they all have natural talent and don't need to listen to me), but the first thing that made me smile when seeing my mom is she's obeying the rules of the road.  I watched her attempt to run on the correct side of the road, which meant following the extreme outside of a curve, while the police had it blocked off.  That's my mom, following the rules.  So much to learn, when it comes to the racing, you cut every corner possible!

We had a nice jog back.  I tried to do most of the talking, I know how it goes when pushing yourself and it seems like every ounce of strength is needed to keep going.  She was tired at the end. My final question was if she was going to finish strong?  Her reply, there's that hill at the end.  She might figure out this cutting corners thing after all.  My response, take it easy...until people can see you then finish strong, it's all about finishing, but it helps to look good while you do it.  Yeah, I won't train too many Olympic athletes.

Did CT get her trophy?  Well, there was only one first awarded today, and that goes to my mom!  She completed her first 5K!  CT and I both finished second and we were both good with that.  CT's dad got to see her best race and I got to run and cross the line with my mom, can't beat that!  There's always next year and maybe my mom will be doing her first 10K!     

    




Saturday, July 14, 2012

Running on the Sun



If you randomly picked three blog posts since I've been doing this, chances are you'll get one that has me complaining about the heat.  My nemesis.  Well, it least it seems that way.  Now that I think of it, I wonder if I've ever complained about it being too cold to run.  Hmmm.

This week's race is the Duo at the Ledge.  Last year, this was one of my favorite races because the start time was 6 am.  What a great concept, run a race before the summer heat comes out!  For that reason, had to do it again.  Only problem, Murphy's Law apparently was pissed that I found a loophole last year, because this year he decided to turn up the heat.  At 3 am, leaving for the race, it was already 75 outside.  Race start, 77 and the humidity made the air feel heavy, this is going to be miserable!

The phrase "Don't die" came from a couple of friends.  My plan was simple, start out much slower than my race pace, get to the halfway point then evaluate from there.  Sometimes my mind works very quickly, this was one of those times, because by mile four I had already made up my mind, this race was nothing more than pure survival.  I watched a fairly big group of people head out fast, I assumed by the half way point, they'd be dropping like flies, and I planned on dictating my pace based on how many I caught up to.  At mile four, I knew this going to be an awful race.  At mile six, I only had caught one person who was whipped, this is when I decided there was no point to even try to place, because they weren't dropping like I thought they would.  At mile eight, this is where I shut it down.  Even at a much slower pace, the heat finally really started to get to me.  Without catching anybody, I decided there's no real point risking anything, so for the last five miles became a walk/run combination.

Ever since starting running and being able to do the distance, I've never ran an over a two hour half marathon.  I remember some awful runs in the snow and ice, still under two hours.  I really expected even in the heat, to do about 1:50.  Couldn't do it, it was just brutal.  Being over two hours was really depressing, but I was still 5th in my age division, which I guess isn't bad.  CT finished just behind me, when we went to check the results, her eyes lit up.  I didn't have high hopes because last year we had such a good run and it seemed like so many people were ahead of us.  Well, all the people ahead of us, none were in her age group!  CT is now the queen of the Ledge, two years, two first place finishes.  I already know, she is going to want to run it again next year to keep her streak going.

Didn't die.  Didn't have a good race, but alive to run another day!

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Those Damn Four (Minutes)



It's marathon time again, but it's time for a scenery change.  This weekend it's off to Traverse City to experience the flat, fast course known as the Bayshore Marathon.  This is the course known locally for PR's and the perfect spot to attempt to qualify for Boston.  There's no way that I'll qualify for Boston, but this was suppose to be the race where we'd get CT qualified.  With her injured, the new goal became getting my sub 3:30 finish.

This is the first marathon where travel became a factor.  It wasn't a big deal, but the first time prior to a race not to sleep in my own bed and probably the most important pre-race known being the food.  It was hard even getting a hotel booked months out, I had a feeling for dinner it would be a challenge too.  The chain restaurants wouldn't take reservations, plus I figured everybody would head to them, so my master plan was to find a mom and pa type place.  "Best pasta in TC" in a Google search gave me my target.  First of all, it was a challenge even finding the place, my Google search could have been "most obscure whole in the wall pasta restaurant in TC".  Next, when we did find it, I thought my entourage was going to have a mutiny.  The place was tucked in a dead strip mall and it was about the size of my walk in closet.  It had three two person tables about the size of a coffee saucers and as we walked in, I could feel the doubt from both CT and Downhill about my choice.  Luckily, because I'm the man, I did call ahead and reserve a table for four, which happened to be out of view and happened to be almost setup in their kitchen.  Still getting some doubt from my girls.  The food turned out to be pretty damn good, the girls put away their knives and their thoughts of mutiny, order was restored!  

Race morning, my nemesis the heat was out.  With my success at the River Bank Run, my plan was to do the exact same thing, hang with my pace group the whole way, only problem two days before the race I found out Bayshore doesn't have pace groups, so much for that plan.  Bang goes the gun, without a set plan, I decided to run based on feel.  First couple of miles were slower.  Next feel miles I found my comfortable pace.  The water view was okay, I didn't find myself staring off at it though.  I did pay attention to a couple of spots that had direct sun light.  Since it's an out and back course, I would be back through these spots and already the sun was uncomfortable.  I was already predicting these would be my downfall on the way back.  Like I said, the water didn't impress me too much, but I was very surprised at the level of support from spectators along the route.  That made this a very enjoyable marathon simply for that.  I reached the turn around spot ahead of schedule, but not too fast.  I still felt pretty good only 13.1 to go. 

At mile 18, I was eight minutes ahead of my goal pace, but I could also feel the wheels starting to come off.  My feet were getting very sore, it was getting warmer out, I was feeling warmer and I believe I made my first real mistake.  Being so paranoid of the heat, it was about this time I started dumping a cup of water on my head going through water stops.  Don't get me wrong, it felt good, but I was being careless when I did it and ultimately my shorts were getting very wet, which in turn started to chafe my inner thighs.  At mile 24 my eight minutes I had built up as a pad were gone.  To maintain my goal, I'd have to run the last two miles at an eight minute per mile pace.  To be so close, yet the struggle knowing my body just wouldn't be able to run that fast, it's hard.  All the training, every time it gets hard willing yourself to keep going for this moment, now that moment is here and it's still impossible to pull off.  I knew I had my PR no matter what, but I really wanted my goal and as much as I tried to will myself to keep pushing, my body just said this is what's left and this is all you've got.  Missed it by four minutes, which seems to be a trend because that's what Grand Rapids Marathon ended up being too.

The aftermath, my thighs burned for days!  Not muscle, but they were raw from the chaffing.  I won't be making that mistake again any time soon.  The physical pain was the worst, the mental pain being so close, didn't help, but both of those combined were completely negated by our bus ride back to the hotel.  First of all, we almost missed the last bus.  Downhill, in addition to stating numerous times this was her last marathon, also I think was suffering more pain than I was and proceeded to share EXACTLY how she was feeling with everybody on the bus.  Sailor's would blush, with some of the colorful language she was using.  For me, I can't remember laughing so hard.  Entire trip worth it, right here.  Legs on fire, feeling down about missing my goal, gone.  This twenty bus ride, laughing, joking, with my running family....wouldn't trade it for the world! 



       

Sunday, May 13, 2012

20K in a 25K




All I wanted was a race to get some confidence back, little did I know that every runner in the state apparently had the same idea!  File me under last to know, of course I knew the River Bank Run is a popular race, but had no idea there would be twenty thousand runners!  If there were that many runners, add the number of spectators, and suddenly this thing is becoming epic.   Often I've wondered what a big race would feel like, well this is it.   

For the coolness factor of a big race, there's a downside. Take a look in that picture and see if you can find me,  it's impossible to find somebody, even if you know they are there.  The event was broken down into two 5K's, a 10K, and then the 25K races.  I had a relative running the first 5K. Within about three seconds of getting downtown, it was obvious to me that there was no way I'd even see her.  CT had a friend running in the second 5K, so off she went to try to find her.  This left me alone in a sea of people to wait until the start of my race.

First, I just watched people.  I found myself trying to guess how serious the runner is based on their shoes.  New clean shoes meant a new non-serious runner, right?   Then again, maybe they just pull out their special shoes for race day.  Bored with that, I switched to doing some stretches.  I've never stretched before a race before, not sure what prompted me to do it, but I did a few.  It wasn't long before I noticed a few people around me now starting to stretch.  Did I start this?  Hmmm, I wonder if I start to stretch in goofy poses will these people mimic me?  I didn't.  Still, I had plenty of time to kill. At this point I sat down and tried to figure out what was going on with myself.  I went to my bread and butter song and finally something happened.  Doubt, nervousness, feeling alone evaporated and my race plan became clear.  The whole time this is going on there's a staging area moving left to right in front of me.  The 25K staging area was now straight ahead, but the only people there were the race organizers holding the various pace group signs.  My second bread and butter song was now playing, then it just kind of hit me that there are only two possible outcomes to this race, I get my goal or I don't.  Last week it didn't feel good, one way to change that and that time was now.  I can't be hundred percent sure, but to me, it felt like I was the first person lined up for this race.  There certainly wasn't anybody around my spot.  Lets do this thing!  For the record, just like the stretching, it wasn't long before people followed me and started showing up.

The plan was simple, follow the pace group.  Didn't matter if I was feeling great in the beginning and wanted to bolt or the heat wreaked havoc on me, the pace group had to stay within eyesight of me until the final two miles.  The last two would determine if I'd get my goal.

When I came up with that plan, I still didn't realize how big this race is.  Arrrrrgh goes the horn to start the race, thirty seconds later the mob finally starts to move forward.  It was such a long walk to the starting line, I had plenty of time to scan the crowd.  I wonder where CT is.  Can CT see me?  Then the reality, there ain't a chance in hell I'm going to see her or she's going to be able to see me.

Holy shit, this is a ton of runners!  Even in the busiest race I've done up until this point after a mile or two things are thinning out.  At mile seven, we were still shoulder to shoulder.  This is a damn stampede.  You know that plan I came up with, well, I couldn't change it if I wanted to.  I wouldn't be able to pass anybody unless I had a cattle catcher attached to the front of me and I'm pretty sure if I needed to slow down, we'll I'd be permanently flattened to the pavement from being trampled.  Wanna talk 5150, this is it.  Water-stops felt like the damn lottery, it must have looked like a rack of beef being lowered into the Amazon River as piranha attacked.  I took two elbows and got kicked once and though it sounds like I'm complaining, I consider myself lucky.

I did modify my strategy in an attempt to find the largest empty pocket I could without jockeying too much.  There were actually people concerned about passing, so could float to these small open areas.  I couldn't figure out why people weren't doing the same thing, but I wasn't about to give them hints.  Not only did these pockets allow for a little more visibility to see the road, less chance for flying elbows and feet, but the best surprise was a little extra air flow to help with cooling.

I started to base how I was doing with where the pacers would be in relation to me after each water-stop.  It became a game within a game if I could somehow find water, drink, and get back to it without loosing any ground to them.  Some stops I'd break even, others I'd lose some ground.  Between mile seven and ten, it was still pretty crowded.  A couple times I remember being irritated that there were so many people in this kind of shape, shouldn't they be tired by now?  Just past mile ten, some hills started.  This is the point where, although I did feel like I was getting tired, I seemed to be catching people.  People who were ahead of the pace group this whole time were getting closer and closer to me.  Mile twelve the hills were done.  Stick to the plan.

Once the hills were done, I felt pretty confident.  Part of me wanted to start to push it, but I talked myself out of it, told myself I at least had to wait until thirteen and a half before I could go.  That's about the time I passed the pace group.  Once I passed them, some common sense set in.  It was obvious to me that I'd get my goal, so I didn't see the point to trying to really improve my time beyond what it was.  One big race this month and I don't want to get injured.  Even though I told myself this and felt like I was trying to do this, the last two miles did get quicker.

The final stretch, I tried to enjoy it more.  As I scanned the crowd it became more about finding CT, where would she be standing, would I be able to find her?  I felt pretty damn good knowing that my goal was in the bag, yet I still wanted to share it with her.  Reality hit, there's no way I'd be able to spot her.  Next best thing, maybe she'll be able to see me, so I put my hands in a heart over my heart and crossed the line.

Twenty thousand people, needle in a haystack!  I made my obligatory race tweet about the Two Hour Club has a new member as I stopped my watch.  Then with one glance, into the crowd, there was CT looking back at me with this huge smile.  Twenty thousand people in a 25K, found the only person who mattered at that moment. 

Crossing the Line:

                                         
  


Friday, May 11, 2012

5150



What do you do when you don't reach the goal you set for yourself?  Easy! Raise the bar and give it another shot, of course!  Logically, that makes absolutely no sense. That's a case of the 5150.

I've had a few days to think about how the Marathon got me.  Should I have done things different, should I have been doing other things training, or was it just a case of the heat.  I realize I could play those games all day and never really truly know.  Only way to continue to get better is run more.  The week following the Marathon last year, I could barely walk and was in no condition to run.  My legs feel good, then it just kind of hit me, there's a big race coming up, why not do it too?  A few seconds later, I was signed up for the Fifth Third River Bank 25K.

How does raising the bar factor in changing race distances?  As I was signing up, something caught my eye, there is something called the Under 2 Hour Club.  Special treatment, special area, sounds good to me.  Of course to get into this club, the year prior, you have to complete the race in under two hours. 

Fifteen and a half miles in two hours, is fast, but seems possible.  I'm so confident I can do it!  Then I started looking at all my training runs, races and every single run that's gone over that distance, I've never once been able to do it!  Ugh, what did I get myself into?  Granted on all those runs, I wasn't aiming for that goal, but still I'm kind of surprised that I've never accidentally pulled it off.  Marathon goal was 8 minute miles for 26.2, this will be about a 7:44 per mile pace for 15.5 miles, bar raised.

So what's 5150?  Well, I just learned this week that it's the police code for crazy person on the loose.  Bar raised, lets see what's possible.                  

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Same but Different



7:59 AM I find myself standing in roughly the same spot I was a year ago.  The goals, slightly different, but I suppose the primary goal is still the same, survive 26.2 miles.  Last year was all about being my first Marathon.  This year, I already decided it would be called redemption, because I felt the course got the best of me.  All the horrible thoughts and nightmares are gone, I was still found myself nervous.  Not so much about finishing, but being able to achieve the goal I set for myself.

3:30 is the time I want.  Five months of training and I feel confident I can do it.  I've been running very consistent throughout training and it seems like a very reasonable goal.  With my 5K PR and my Half Marathon PR, in the past two months, it's only fitting to PR this Marathon.  On the mental side, I missed one long run of twenty miles and CT's been injured.  It shouldn't, but missing that one run does cause mental anguish for some reason.  I found myself stuck in a debate of trying to make that run up or doing what everyone says and rest the final two weeks of training.  With CT injured, it feels like I've been alone for a long time.  I miss the energy that comes from small successes of her having a good run, or her getting excited about accomplishing something.

My biggest fear is the weather this year.  Five months of running in the snow, then suddenly temps are in the 70's.  My body does not adjust to the heat at all.  If I could have done some kind of cold weather dance before this thing started, I would have done it!

8:00 the race starts.  The first fifteen miles, exactly as planned.  Felt like I was running easy, legs felt good, and I was about two minutes ahead of my goal.  CT and one of our other running friends bounced around the course and it was always nice to see their smiling cheering faces at various points.  Then I don't know if this was a sign of things to come or a simple mistake, but I dropped both ibuprofen I decided to take at the water stop.  Even though I was still feeling good, figured I'd try to be preemptively strike any aches and pains for the last half.  True runners don't care, at least that was my feeling, so I picked them up off the ground and ate them dirt and all.  A spectator watched me do it and my comment was "a little extra protein won't hurt".

Looking back, I think my lack of coordination to successfully take two ibuprofen capsules from my pocket to my mouth was probably a sign that the end was coming.  By mile seventeen, I knew I was getting slower, which I had planned for, but I was also starting to feel the tell tale signs I was beginning to overheat.  About this time is when the 3:30 pace group caught up to me and passed me.  Unlike last year, I wasn't crushed as they went by, I knew the heat was going to be a problem.  By mile eighteen, I had to walk to rest.  Knowing that I'd have to mix walking and running just to finish from this point on, my goal wasn't even in the equation anymore and it became about just finishing without hurting myself.  Race another day.

Maybe it's maturity, maybe it's some experience under my shoes, but what I'm taking away from this Marathon is sometimes elements out of your control make goals impossible.  It just wasn't my day.  A year ago I vowed to return to this race to beat it, well it got me again this year.  Same but different, last year was the wall, this year was the heat.  Maybe the third time is the charm, we'll find out next year.  Until then, enjoy it Kalamazoo Marathon, I'm not going to give up and I'll be back to run all over you!            

Saturday, April 14, 2012

1:38 or In the Trunk



Running has it's streaks.  Last month had the big accomplishment of logging all those miles and a PR in a 5K.  This month, one head cold and a couple of bad runs, it feels like everything is lost.  It shouldn't be that way, but at least for me the mental side plays a huge part.  Even though I know full well being sick is going to effect performance, two bad runs and self doubt creeps in.  Add to the mix CT is now injured, it was an uneasy feeling standing at the starting line of the Martian Half Marathon.  Previous best half was 1:46. My shaken confidence goal predicted a 1:40-1:42 finish.  CT, now turned coach, wanted me to get a 1:38!  Is she crazy?  Well, of course she is, that is her first name.

1:38?  To put that in some perspective, that's averaging seven and a half minute miles for 13.1 miles.  While not anything close to elite fast, that's damn fast in my book.  Through this marathon training, I've been hovering right around eight minute miles.  When I push it with everything I have, lately I've been sitting right around seven minute fifty second miles for distance runs.

Arrrrttttt goes the air horn to start the race.  Just like every race lately, I started too far back.  The first turn wasn't much faster than a walk, it did thin out quickly though, by about the half mile point I was running at race pace without having to dodge around.  The first few miles were uneventful.  I did find my target for this race, it was some guy running with crazy arms, horrible form, and I thought for sure I'd catch him in a mile or two after his spine exploded from his flailing.  At about four mile mark, Crazy Arms was actually pulling away from me.  Psychologically, that's very depressing.  Glancing down at my watch for my pace, I was right at seven and a half minute miles for this impossible 1:38 finish.  I didn't understand how the Spaz-man was pulling away from me when I wasn't getting any slower, but I could also feel some fatigue setting in.  My plan was to maintain as best I could until the halfway point, then slow down and being happy with that.  By six miles, I couldn't even see Arms anymore.  I had slowed some, at this point my mile time was creeping above seven and a half by a few seconds.

The route was an out and back, so the closer I got to the halfway point, the more runners were coming back at me.  There's that a-hole with the horrid form heading back already!  After turning around myself, it did feel good to see Downhill and our other running friend CC.  Friendly faces help, but by this time I had already told myself that I had run a good first half, put it in reserve mode and I'd probably end up about with about the time I was expecting.

Then the nine happened.  It's been a while since I've felt it.  I only distinctly remember it three times, each time it's happened I can remember the exact spot of the road where it started, but the euphoria of runner's high came over me.  That spot on mile nine, where it started, all doubt vanished.  Whatever grimacing runner's face I had on was replaced with a smile.  I wouldn't describe it as suddenly I became indestructible and could run through walls, but it was more a feeling of extreme joy. Suddenly, miles are going by at low seven minute paces.  With a mile to go, I was almost a full minute ahead of the 1:38 coach set for me.  I knew I had it.

Rounding the final turn into the straight away to the finish line, who do I see, but my target!  I hadn't seen that jerk since he passed me on his way back.  Two things where on my mind coming down the final stretch, trying to find CT in the crowd and I was going to pass him.  Well, I didn't see CT, I hope it was simply because of the speed, but even though it took me twelve miles and runner's high to do it, I passed o'crazy arms.  He didn't have a chance. Looking back on it, maybe he never existed, maybe it was all a hallucination from the runner's high.  Ponder that one for a while. 

1:37:03.4 officially.  Nine minutes faster than my previous PR.  Three minutes better than I had hoped.  A FULL minute better than CT expected even!  CT did find me soon after crossing the finish line.  After a kiss and her saying how proud she was of me, then the title of this blog entry comes out.  As we were waiting for our friends to finish, she tells me how she's been telling everybody around her that it was 1:38 for me or I had to ride in the trunk on the way home!  This second part was completely new to me.  Part of me wanted to protest, but the other part knows it wouldn't do any good, point is, it made me better.

Getting older, but think this was my best race so far.                              


Sunday, April 1, 2012

The 200



The quest for 200 is now complete.  There are 31 Days in March and though I did take seven of them off (Slack Ass), the remaining twenty-four days I pounded the pavement.  When the dust settled, 216 miles!

I feel great that I not only set a high goal, but I reached it.  Will I do it again, not sure.  My legs felt great the first half of the challenge, but by the end of the month, they were done!  I can usual gauge myself by how much zip I have at the end of runs, if I can pick up the pace at the end, I know I'm doing great.  Towards the end of the month, there wasn't anything left, the zip was long gone.  My toe injury and that 5K happened at the best time possible, had they been at the end of the month, there's no telling what would have happened.  With some recovery, I hoping the effort this month will make the marathons easier.

There's nothing official about this, no shiny medal to show off, but this is going in the virtual display case.  Yeah, I might be a Slack Ass, but since when do names mean anything?     

Sunday, March 25, 2012

The Stars Come Out



This weekend was time for the Kal-Haven Relay Race.  It really is a fun race because it gives the chance to spectate and cheer, but also race.  We've been running a bunch, but it's not very often we all get to go as a group.  Even though we are all in Run Camp, different schedules cause us to miss each other and even if we all show up on a given week, we are in a couple different pace groups.  It just seems like it's been awhile for us to all get together and get a run in.  To say it's an adventure being in a vehicle with four women, is an understatement. Oh, the things I learn, yet I really don't even want to know.

Last year, I remember printing everybody out a map, had break downs of each person's leg of the race with expected times.  This year, I don't think we knew the full plan until about fifteen minutes prior to the race starting.  Maybe my name Slack Ass does apply.  Besides the cell phone call in a panic that we made a vehicle mistake as the gun was going off, things went very well.

Just like last year, even though it's a relay, we don't run it that way.  Each of us had a distance in mind that we wanted to do, then went from there.  None of us were in top form and all seem to be nursing various injuries. Even with that said, we improved our time by 10 minutes this year and place by 4 positions.

Without looking back on my blog, I can't remember the exact number, but I think it was something like 34 people passed.  Always need motivation when running, so when it was my turn, that was the game.  In my first leg, passed 31.  Second leg my number was up to 43, though one person passed me for sure and I think two more got by me at the water/relay stop.  It's hard to say if I passed those two again because I'm fairly sure they switched teammates.  In the end, I passed a total of 54 people.  Heck, even if I never caught the two that got by me, 54-3 isn't too bad.         






Sunday, March 18, 2012

Luck of the Irish, 19:43



Luck of the Irish?  Sure, I've seen my share of BS blown referee calls to help Notre Dame, that might be luck of the Irish.  Their program hasn't been relevant in twenty years, that's hardly lucky though.  When I think of Ireland, the first thing that comes to mind is potato famine, not exactly lucky.  Where does this luck come from?  I'll tell you, Beginner's Luck, Luck of the Irish, it's all made up.  Okay, you probably already know that, but I thought it needed to be said anyway.  There's no such thing as luck, it's all about increasing your chances.

Last year I set a goal for myself of getting a 5K under twenty minutes.  I came close, but wasn't able to accomplish that goal.  The goal remained the same this year, but it's something that became less important as I think about what I want to do in my marathon.  The only 5K I had even considered doing this year was my hometown one and that was only because CT wants the trophy badly given to the top person in each age group.  Even though I don't have a strong desire to run a crazy amount of 5K's like I did last year, it's still hard to turn down the opportunity to run when a friend is doing one.  That's what the Irish Jig became.

Holy people!  Close to 5,000 runners!  My theory why the event is that popular, it gives people an excuse to wear that horribly colored green clothing.  As far as I know, this is the first race that I've ever ran that had cash money for prizes.  Walking up and seeing people with coaches, doesn't exactly inspire confidence.

I'd be lying if I said didn't have hopes of getting my goal.  While I've been running well, it's all been for distance. I haven't done any speed work and to top it off my toe injury, my confidence wasn't there.  I did set my watch's pace for what I'd need for my goal, but looking at the pace I'd need looked daunting. It was over a minute faster than my best per mile pace doing my distance runs lately. 

Blaaaaaaargh, goes the bag pipes to start the race.  I had completely forgot what a pain it is to run in a crowd of people.  Where I felt guilty trying to be anywhere near the front because of my lack of training for this and my sore toe, it turned to fueled anger trying to maneuver around all the people that had no business being up closer than I was.  When I hit the mile mark, I was right at the pace I needed to be at, which was amazing considering how much zig zagging I had to do and practically walked around one of the corners.  Mile 2, things finally were spaced out, and it wasn't a traffic jam.  I felt scared to look at my watch, but when I did, I was shocked to still be on pace.  This actually might be possible, it's also when it dawned on me that my toe didn't hurt.  Was it the speed, adrenaline, lack of blood?  Whatever, I didn't feel it and all I had to do was maintain my pace for another mile.

"Never give up" flashed in my head.  I rounded the final corner to see 20:11 on the clock.  Dammit!  So close, but I missed it, again!  Luck wasn't a factor, because Ace has been putting in the work.  Yeah, the clock said 20:11, but it doesn't account for the fact it took me almost thirty seconds to get to the starting line, when I looked at my watch, 19:43!  New PR! 

The Green Mambas that bit me, also got me the PR I've been dying to get.  No luck here, miles and miles of training and dedication got me to this goal.  I'll save my luck for the lotto.                                       

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Blistering Speed



I love my new Asics shoes, which I've named the Green Mambas.  Wearing them, I feel fast.  It could be purely psychological, but I'm looking forward to trying them out on race day, to rule that out.  I've designated them my racing shoes for this year.

This month, I've already logged 60 miles in my quest for 200.  Coming into this weekend's long run, I was nervous because towards the end of the week, my legs felt very fatigued and Saturday's run was a 20 mile run.  The last time I was nervous heading into a long run, I laced up the Green Mambas and had a record run.  The GM's need some miles to get broken in and the written (or unwritten made up rule that I follow) is if you can run 20 miles, you can run 26.2, so I decided to get a feel for them as my marathon shoe.

Twenty one miles later, the Green Mambas didn't let me down.  Yeah, I said twenty one, I happened to take a wrong turn, it's all about going the extra mile anyway.  While I ran in control and never really pushed it, I easily had five more miles in me and my pace was exactly where I hoped to be come marathon time.  But, as you can see from the picture, my Green Mambas bit me!  The toe box is smaller, I probably didn't wear the best sock, and doing that kind of distance my foot swelled enough to cause this blister.  Everybody always asks me do I still have toe nails with all my running, never had an issue before.  For the first time in addition to the blister, the nail on my big toe is also very sensitive, I finally learned the toe nail thing.

This is going to be an interesting week. For the first time since the last marathon I've got injuries.  This coming weekend I have a 5K race.  While I really wasn't going to prepare for it, I had hoped to do some speed work this week to get an idea of what I'd be capable of.  Hoping my Green Mamba bite isn't too serious and can get over the pain.      


Thursday, March 1, 2012

The Goal, 200



Training for the marathon this time around is different.  The emotions are completely different, I miss the excitement of the unknown.  This time around, I know full well I can do the scheduled long run for the week, so the motivation isn't the same.  By missing that element, it makes it easy to slack, and I have been.  I knew my weekly miles were less than last year, but when I looked at my stats for the month of February, it was like a slap to the face comparing last year to this year's totals. 151 miles last year to 127 this year and the worst part this year was a leap year, I had an extra day!

I'm not even sure how exactly this came about, but coincidentally my new running nickname is Slack Ass.  The running friend who bestowed me with this title has no idea of my past running totals, or my involvement in the Slackers in high school, so that makes the choice of that title even more disturbing.  While I might be stuck with the name, I don't have to live down to it.  I'm going to embrace it for the irony it's going to represent! 
  
My single best month last year was March, with at total of 163 miles.  This month's goal, I'm running for 200 miles!  Slack Ass is gonna bust ass this month.         

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Time to retire the New



Running friends have all been changing to new shoes recently.  I've put in some great miles with my New Balance shoes and have been reluctant to even look because once I find a shoe that I like, I try to wear it until it has holes in it.  Though, I have to admit, I've been jealous of some of the shoes I've seen. 

CT had a gift card burning a hole in her pocket and had a pair that she'd been salivating over for a few weeks.  Even though mine have thirteen hundred miles on them, they still feel good.  We stopped at our favorite running store to check out shoes for her, of course they didn't have the pair she was ultimately after, but she found these really unique shoes on the clearance shelf.  They were hot pink, extremely lite,and were different looking. She didn't try them on and continued to shop around.  Caught up in the new shoe excitement, I thought what the heck and started poking around the guy clearance shoes.  Low and behold, I found the guy's version of that shoe, only difference being it was neon green.  Pointing this out to CT, she thought I should try them on.  They felt pretty good.  Then a quick jog in the store, resulted in they feel really good.  So good, I made CT try on the female version.  Her evaluation was the same as mine and she pushed me to get them.  Had I been by myself, I probably would have held off and decided to stay loyal to my New Balance, but if she was game to get her pair, think it's only fitting that we matched.

For as great as the last run I blogged about was, I do think I tweaked myself.  All the hills, my right calf got pulled, then the past few runs I've been feeling some arch pain which I'm not even going to say what I think it is because it's that hated amongst runners.  That had me already wondering if it was time to replace my shoes.  These new green shoes, I thought I'd try to keep them race shoes.  This weekend came around and I struggled with using my old shoes or giving the new ones a try.  It was a long run, sixteen miles, and it breaks a cardinal rule to never go long with new shoes.  On the other hand, my foot was already bothering me, what could it hurt?

I remember as a kid believing the number of stripes on the shoes, the faster they would be.  I still find it hard to believe that shoes can really make much difference, simply by logic.  Sixteen miles later, I'm not so sure.  These shoes don't have any stripes on them, but they apparently gave me a cape, because I flew.  Fastest run ever, for me.  At one point I didn't even believe what my watch was telling me because it honestly didn't feel like I was running hard, yet I was a full minute per mile faster than I have been.  I was very impressed with all the things I accomplished in my New Balance shoes, but there's a new green monster in town. These Asics seem aptly named, Speedstars.              




Saturday, February 4, 2012

Gang's all here



I thought the Run Camp numbers were low this year, but from the look of it, things picked up. That's a herd of people!

It's been hard to think of topics to talk about week in and week out, so this blog is getting a little dusty. Last year, it seemed like each week was an adventure and a accomplishment. This year, it's "I've done this before and I know I can do it." The adrenaline rush and the excitement levels aren't the same. Heck, I know that energy pulled me through some of the miles last year. Things are much more relaxed this time around. So, this week it was fun to see the half marathoners show up and feed off their energy.

On a physical level, it's interesting the difference from last year to this year. After a long Saturday run, I was done and wouldn't even consider running on Sunday. This year already, there have been a number of times where I've done this. I'd also judge how tired I was by the walk up the stairs at the office in the morning. So many times my ankles and legs would just ache going up them. This year, those same steps the only grief I get is knowing I'm heading to work.

This week's run was one of the hardest runs training last year. I haven't progressed to the point where you are going to hear me brag at how easy it felt this year, because that won't happen and I doubt it could EVER happen. With two miles to go, I was ready to be done. Afterward, I looked at my stats. This year I ran this hell route a full minute per mile faster than last year. That's not one minute faster, that's fourteen minutes faster overall, which I think is damn amazing. Technically, it wasn't my fastest half marathon time, but that thirteen miles was relatively flat. This route had way more elevation change and the slight time difference between the two, this hands down, is the best run I've had. Oh and did I mention I had a head cold? Maybe I was in the zone, maybe I'm getting better, either way I'm excited for the results.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Year Stats



I remember hearing that you have to do something for 10,000 hours before you are good at it. No idea if there is any truth to that statement or if it's an internet myth. I've yet to have any run seem easy, so I know I'm nowhere near close to being good at it yet. I won't even pretend that I think I'm close to 10,000 hours, though I do always have a rough estimate of how many miles I've done. 10,000 hours is ridiculous, but I'll admit it, I do like the thought of being able to say I've ran 10,000 miles.

1,300 (1,301 to be exact) miles is what I ran in 2011. While not super impressive at first glance, when you think about how far the average person drives a year is 12K miles, I did a tenth of that on foot. That is crazy to me.

Here's to the New Year and what's possible. Thought I'd tribute my running partners who were with me most of those miles. Oh and in case you are wondering, roughly only 9,757 hours until I get good.