2009 Clarksville Duathlon

Why couldn’t we have had this weather last weekend.

Overnight there were flood watches and warnings issued.  It pissed down rain pretty much all night.  When we woke up at 5 am, we were drying out, with all of the rain north and south of us.  By the time we left, the hole we were in filled in, so it pissed down rain again.  But no lightning, so all was good.

Transition was set up in the rain.  The pre-race brief was held in the rain.  The start went off in the rain.  And it was 52F.  Perfect.  But it must have scared some folks off.  I don’t know how many registered, but only 24 folks showed up to race – 20 individual competitors and two 2-person teams.

The course was a 2-mile run, a 13.1-mile ride and a 2-mile run.

Mind you, other than four quick 5-mile rides this week to make sure the bike worked properly, this was the first time I had ridden since doing this race a year ago.  I was banking on my running fitness getting me through the bike leg.  Of course, running fitness was highly questionable after last Saturday’s very warm Country Music Marathon.  Typically after a Saturday marathon I’m feeling fine by Tuesday or Wednesday.  Even during a short run yesterday my legs felt like bricks.  So I really had no idea how I’d do today, but that wasn’t a worry.  This is a fun race that is all about going all out.

So the start whistle blew and we were off.  The idea was to get out quickly and then settle down.  Mind you, settle down needed to be right at LTHR.  Actually it ended up a bit higher, with most of the run in Zone 5a:

Run Leg 1, Heart Rate x Distance (with Pace)

Both Goddess and I measured a touch over 2.1 miles for the leg on our Garmin 305’s.

So that was 2.1 miles in 14:59, for an average pace of 7:06/mile and a peak of 5:55/mile,which I used to get ahead of the start line melee.

Arriving at T1, I was fourth overall.  First was way the hell in front, while second and third were about ten seconds ahead.

I forgot how much fun it is to bend over to change shoes while your heart is exploding in your chest.

Out the gate on the bike and I settled in, making sure I didn’t put too much power to the cranks in the opening miles, knowing that this was a rolling 13.1-mile course with a few turns.  Those that pushed hard in the beginning would pay dearly near then end and especially so during the final 2-mile run.

A mile in, a cyclist flew past me like I was standing still, putting me in fifth overall.  He’ll become important later.  Two miles later, I passed the guy in front of me, so I was back in fourth.  By now the rain had stopped, so it was quite pleasant. 

There was a hilarious moment at mile 4.5 as we had to negotiate a hairpin turn onto a new road.  I saw a minivan approaching the stop sign as I was slowing to make the turn.  The lady driver had her window down and was telling the volunteer that he needed to do something about the cyclists, because with the mist in the air we were impossible to see.  Mind you, in my chosen field of meteorology, surface visibility is an important parameter to observe and forecast.  I looked off at the tree line in the distance that I could clearly see, which I estimated to be 1.5-2 miles away.  I couldn’t figure out why I could see those trees, yet she couldn’t see us in the opposite lane.  For the next mile or so I calculated that she must have been traveling in the neighborhood of 750 mph in order to not have the appropriate reaction time.

I want that van!

Anyway, as I said, the course had some rolling hills.  Here’s a shot of the Garmin-calculated grade, with a curve of my speed (blue line) overlaid:

Bike Leg, Grade x Distance (with Speed overlay)

Between miles eight and nine, I was passed, putting me back in fifth.  The much older gentleman that flew by had some speed.  Immediately thereafter, the guy that I passed between miles three and four passed and asked if this was a drafting race.  I found it interesting that he was able to catch and pass me, since he was a couple of hundred yards behind me when I passed the lady with the amazingly fast van and fell ever further behind with each mile after that.  I replied “No, it’s a USAT-rules race”.  He should have known what type of race it was, since they handed out a USAT rule crib sheet with every registration packet.  I passed him a second time about a half-mile later.  I don’t know if he was drafting; only he knows that.  But his bridge up to me was while I was maintaining a 22mph average through that stretch is pretty impressive.

In the last mile, I saw first and second heading out on their last run leg.  Soon after, a woman went flying by too.  Turns out that the guy who flew by me at mile one of the bike leg was part of a team.  So that meant I was fourth overall in the solo division.

And to the right I am on my (archaic by triathlon standards) Softride with old, old-school Spinergy’s as I dismount going into T2. 

I am quite upset that they no longer make those bikes and I can’t have another for my next bike.

Considering that I had only 20 miles in my cycling legs for the past year, I was very, very pleased with my bike leg.  Goddess and I both measured 13.33 on our Garmin’s.  I covered the distance in 40:12, for an average speed of 20.37 mph.  Not too shabby.

I hit T2 in fourth overall and flew through.  The much older gentleman that rolled in to T2 in front of me arrived at least a minute before, but I exited right on his tail and passed him within 100 yards, putting me in third.  Then I settled in to work.  This time I knew I’d be cranking the legs as hard as they’d go.  I focused on my turnover and tried to keep the cadence high.

Run Leg 2, Heart Rate x Distance (with Pace overlay)

We were running out one mile, turning around an orange cone and heading back in.  At about 3/4 mile, I heard feet behind me.  Turns out it was the guy that asked about drafting.  He had some wheels on him.  Much more than I had.  We hit the turnaround at the same time and he pulled steadily away after that.  At this point I settled in for a bit, waiting to see if he would tire.  With a half-mile to go, he did slow, so I ratcheted up the pace.  He turned around and saw me coming, so he picked it up and held me off through the finish line.  So I finished fourth overall amongst the solo racers, first in my age group.

For the last leg, since the exit to transition was in a different place than the start line, I measured the advertised 2-mile run at 2.15 miles, covered in 15:52, for a 7:22/mi average.  Not as evenly paced as the first leg, but still not too shabby.  Especially with the 6:17/mi pace as I crossed the finish line (below left).

This was the second edition of the Clarksville Duathlon.  If you read last year’s race report, you’ll recall that they had some issues, which are to be expected with a first-run event.  I can guarantee you that they more than overcame those issues and put on a high class event this year. 

I also have to give the organizers a huge congratulations for picking such a great cause to give all of the proceeds to – Fisher House.  As you may recall, I ran a donation drive for Fisher House last year as I was preparing to run my 40-miler in Baghdad.  And if you come to this post from my blog’s main page, you’ll see that the link to Fisher House remains in the upper left.  I maintain that it’s a great cause to support, so if you’d like to, please click and donate.  I get nothing from it (I already got my t-shirt), so don’t worry, all of your donation goes directly to Fisher House.

So if you are anywhere near the area next May, I highly recommend this event.  The timing, one week after the Country Music Marathon, is perfect.  It forced me to get out on the bike and spin my legs to loosen them up.

—————————————–

Now it’s time to look forward. 

If you stayed awake through my post about planning and Training Load, you’ll recall the segment on Training Influence.  If you didn’t stay awake that long, the gist of it is that based on my personal recovery rate, the training that would have the most influence on my next race would typically be approximately 28-32 days prior to the race.  After that, there’s diminishing influence until the my taper date, which is typically 10-12 days prior to the race.  After the taper date, no amount of training will have a positive influence on the race, so that’s the time to back off and let the body rest.

Anyway, since my next race is on May 30th, my calculated max training effect date was yesterday.  But I clearly didn’t go out and crank out a 20-miler.  No way.  Not after last week’s very warm marathon.  However, the marathon, even though it took a lot out of me, could have a huge positive influence on the outcome of the race at the end of the month.  Much like the 60K I ran in mid-March had a huge positive influence on my ability to survive last weekend’s very warm marathon.

So if you are in the Paducah, KY area at the end of May, meet me for a fun run, otherwise known as RUTS.  Run five, 13, 26, 50 or 60 miles.  Your call.  But having fun is mandatory.

CMM 2009 – A Race Report (of sorts)

Well, you’ve already seen the final results, so I won’t rehash that.

And we don’t have much in the way of photos, so I can’t post those.

But I can post this:

 

Pre-race

- The forecast as far as ten days out was for a hot, dry day.  But I know that 10-day forecasts are a roll of the dice, so I kept my fingers crossed.  Unfortunately, as race day approached, the forecast held true.  My goal when I registered for this race was to break four hours.

- Four hours for me would be a huge PR.  An over-reaching PR, considering my PR is 4:25:40, which was on a much, much hillier course.  But I knew where my fitness and preparation put me, so four hours was not out of the question.  But I’d definitely have to work for it.

- With a forecast of 70F at the start and mid-80’s by noon, I knew that I needed to adjust my plans to just get through the race.  Time goals should go out the window.  But I don’t give up that easy.  I still planned on pacing for a four hour run, with a negative split.  I’d evaluate where I was by the half-way point and push as hard as I could, regardless of the conditions.  Also, the wind was forecast to get gusty from the south, which may or may not help.

- My mom and sister were in town.  Sister would walk the half-marathon with Goddess, while mom would come down and support.  But she also planned to meet a friend for brunch while we were out flogging ourselves.  And since she couldn’t ride the shuttle to the start line from the parking area at the finish, we had to leave early so I could drop off all three at the start line, then head across town to park the car and ride the shuttle back.  So we were headed out the door at 3:45 am.  So much for my own advice from last year where I said that I’d get a hotel room next time we ran this race.

Race

- I read that they had sang the national anthem and made several announcements before the start.  But unlike last year, they didn’t have loudspeakers along the length of the masses. So we never heard it.

- As forecast, 70F and humid at the start.  They adjusted the course this year to take a longer loop through the landmarks in the downtown area.  An excellent sightseeing option, but included quite a few more hills.

- As always, great crowd support along the majority of the course.  With 31,352 registered runners, there were lots of friends and family and locals supporting the crowd.  It definitely added a lot of energy to the course.

- The course was very crowded for the first eight miles.  With so many runners, there’s just no way around it, even with the wave start.  But that worked out well, since it forced me to keep my pace under control.

- A quick potty stop at 4.6 miles, thanks to the ungodly lines at the start area.  Sure, they probably had 100 porta-potties in the start area, but that’s nowhere near enough for 31,352 runners.  There were news reports of people complaining about the lack of TP in the porta-johns.  We found that out last year, so we brought our own. 

- The half- and full-marathon routes split at 11.5 miles.  With only 3,961 running the marathon, the course emptied out real quick.  So did the spectators, although we still had some great pockets of support until we met up with the half-marathon group again at 19.5 miles.

- At the 13.1-mile point, I was right on my planned pace to break four hours.  I hit the half-marathon at 2:03:35, which poised me well for a comfortable negative split.  But even when I reached this point, I knew that sub-4 wouldn’t happen.  Thanks to a tailwind for the past six miles, the heat was already getting to me.  I was running a comfortable 9:15-ish pace, but my heart rate was wavering between 150-155, which is high Zone 4 for me.  I backed off a bit to see if the heart rate would settle down, which it didn’t, even though this portion of the course was pretty flat; a couple of minor hills pushed me into Zone 5, even though I was backing off the pace. 

- By mile 14, I kept thinking about the mantra – “It’s not who’s fastest, but who slows down least”.  Folks were fading fast.  Much faster than me.  I was feeling good and was still positive on the outcome.

- Out along the flat of the river between miles 15-17, many folks were commenting on how surprised they were at how hilly the first half was.  I was surprised last year, too, so I understand where they were coming from.  If you run this race, IT IS NOT FLAT!  Matter of fact, the hill during mile 18, especially after several flat miles, will kick your ass.  Up until this point, I had only been walking the water stops.  But starting at this hill, I had several unplanned walk sessions.  I started feeling gentle cramping in the quads, but nothing debilitating.  So I just kept running through it and keeping a close eye on things, backing off before things locked up on me.  Here’s the profile of this year’s course, with 1,420’ of elevation gain and 1,525’ of elevation loss, for a net loss of 105’:

So how do you like the look of that wall at mile 18?  It feels like it looks.

- Joining back up with the half-marathon crowd at mile 19.5 was interesting.  So many on both sides of the street were walking.  The only disappointing thing about the course changes was that it took away the most interesting view for me.  Last year, we rejoined at about mile 18.5 and the way the courses were laid out, we ran straight at each other for half a mile before we turned and followed the same road.  With such a huge difference in the number of runners between the half and full, it was a very surreal scene.  But not this year.

- Just after mile 20, it was very, very tempting to turn right with the half marathon crowd and run the last 400 yards to the half-marathon finish line, ending the marathon at about 20.5 miles.  But I wasn’t going to do that.  The tide turned on me a bit through the next few miles as I started to get passed by more than I was passing.  But I was still moving forward, unlike many others.

- The next few miles where where I really started noticing the heat casualties.  The medical support crews were getting their workouts in, sprinting from one crumpled heap to the next.  Most folks were OK, just needing to set down for a bit in the shade.  But quite a few got rides to the hospital.  The sirens were wailing for the last few hours that we were in the area.

- Several times over the last five miles, folks had hoses out.  That really helped.  The winds were gusty at this point, so any amount of water on the body helped cool me down.  Honestly, at this point the heat wasn’t getting to me.  I was overall pretty comfortable, since I was keeping myself soaking wet with cups of water and the hoses.  At one point I even asked a guy if he’d be uncomfortable if I told him I loved him.  He had a good laugh, which was the intent.  The volunteers really rocked, standing out in the sun all day to make sure we were comfortable.

- The last mile was good.  I called my mom, who was waiting at the finish line.  I told here that I’d be there in about ten minutes.  So I couldn’t disappoint.  I started pushing the pace, really keeping the quads on the edge of cramping up.  I turned the tide again and started passing people left and right.  The crowds started getting thicker and completely lined both sides with about one-half mile left.  They definitely helped me push the pace as hard as I could.  The mile between 25-26 was a 9:05 and the last .2 mile was average 7:43, with the last hundred yards peaking at 6:22 and my heart rate deep into zone 5c (>167bpm).  Another strong, strong finish.  I just wish I knew where that energy was earlier in the race.

- Right after the finish I struggled to stay upright as mom pointed me towards the showers to cool down.  They were a huge relief.  I stood there for a few minutes and caught my breath, then moved to get my finisher’s medal.  Right after the lovely lady put it around my neck, another lovely lady handed me two sponges that had been soaking in ice water.  One went down the back of my shirt, one went down the front.

Post-race

- CMM has a good post-run spread for the runners before releasing them “into the wild”.  Lots of food and drink.  And dozens of coolers full of ice-cold Cytomax, my preferred post-run beverage. 

- Lots of sirens wailing in the distance. 

- Goddess and my sister walked on in, finishing another half-marathon together.  I know they weren’t comfortable, but I’m proud of both of them for pushing through and finishing in the heat.

 

Vignettes

- The porta-potty stop was funny.  I spied two of them at mile 4.5 and bee-lined for them, even though it meant I had to cut across half the road (and the masses).  I got there to find no line at all.  Both porta-potties were shaking pretty violently.  The doors flung open on both at the same time and two very, very portly police officers walked out.  Turns out the porta-potties were setting on the edge of the wheelchair ramp for the corner, so they were not even.  Standing in there was like standing in the back of a Greyhound bus as it speeds down the rough interstate.  It was an experience.

- To the volunteer working at the water stop at mile 10, I am truly sorry.  Just a few feet earlier, I was handed a cup full of Cytomax and ice.  It was very refreshing.  But I couldn’t  eat the ice.  I didn’t want to just drop the cup since someone would slip on the ice.  So I looked for a break in the runners and a clear area to toss the cup off to the side of the road.  So I did.  What I didn’t see was the girl standing at the table.  The cup hit the edge of the curb and shot ice up everywhere, which clearly surprised her.  Again, I AM SORRY!

- Right before the two races split at mile 11.5, several guys had a beer table set up.  I asked if they would be at mile 25, which they laughed at.  Bastages.  ;^).

- A few feet after the beer table, a couple was running with their recently acquired beer.  Just as I passed, she dropped her cup right next to her, spraying beer all over my legs.  Clearly she was the karmic twin of the water table lady.  Damn that’s karma is a bitch.

- All along the course there were bands and cheerleading squads.  Just after the half-marathon point, a cheerleading squad was in costume as the “Heffers”.  They were wearing shirts and pants made to look like they were cows.  Pretty funny.  But girls, I must tell you that tying inflated surgical gloves on your belly to look like udders probably wasn’t the best thing to do.  Just a thought.

- At the top of the long hill at mile 18, I saw and experienced something that choked me up.  Everyone was walking or shuffling along.  Off to the side stood a brother and sister, both aged right around 6-8 years old.  They were standing side-by-side, holding out their hands to give the runners high-5’s.  Every single runner that I saw completely broke their line in order to walk single file between the two of them and give them high-5’s.  Awesome!

- At about mile 19.5, when both races were headed down the same street, but on opposite sides, I saw a family waiting for mom.  The son, who was probably 8, was making some odd motions with his hands.  As I got next to him, I saw that he was watching a caterpillar walk on his fingers.  Very cool.

- At mile 21, a lady was cheering “If this were any easier, we’d call it football”.  I laughed.  Then a few miles later I laughed as I saw a guy headed out to the turnaround wearing a shirt with the same saying. 

- At the water stop just before mile 25, a couple ran by and said “Hey, we did that race”.  I was wearing my race shirt from my LBL 60K, mainly because it was so small and breathable.  Apparently they had a different experience than I, because when I said that I had more fun there, the wife said “No way, there was too much mud”.  I couldn’t have disagreed more.  I never saw them again.

 

The GBU

The Good:

- My performance.  Even though I was shooting for a sub-4 race and I didn’t get it, then shooting for any PR (and didn’t get it), I finished this course less than three minutes slower than last year, when it was rainy, cloudy and 20 degrees cooler.  That right there proved to me that had conditions been similar, I would have crushed my PR.

- Fueling, hydration and electrolyte intake went very, very well.

- Nip Guards.  I had never worn these before.  I broke the cardinal rule and used something in a race that I had never used before.  But given the forecasted temps, I knew that I couldn’t wear my standard tight lycra shirt under my running shirt.  I’d roast (and likely would have DNF’d).  So we saw these at the expo and grabbed them.  They were great!

- I picked up a great shirt at the expo.  It’s for a run that I wish I could participate in, but we’ll be in Germany.  It’s The Bourbon Chase, a 200-mile relay race along the Bourbon Trail of Kentucky.  Right through the mother lode of great American bourbon.  The shirt is a great performance t-shirt, with the saying “Will Run for Bourbon” emblazened across the front.

The Bad - Other than the porta-potty lines at the start area, not much.  But…

- Lots of people broke the cardinal rule of t-shirts, namely “Do not wear the shirt of the event that you are parcipating in, before you finish the race”.  Not that I’m a stickler for such things, but for the marathon, that meant that the folks were wearing a black technical shirt.  Granted, the shirt was very light and airy, but I’m absolutely sure that the black really heated those folks up.  C’mon folks, spend the $15 for a light-colored singlet at the expo.

The Ugly – For me, not a single thing.  But I am saddened by the death of a local Soldier, who collapsed and died right after finishing the half marathon.  His mother and father were out from Montana and ran the half also, so they were both there when it happened.  The medical authorities were adamant that it wasn’t heat related, first explaining that it was a “sudden cardiac event”.  Reports today say that his lungs were filled with fluid.  Regardless of the cause, a seemingly healthy young man’s life ended.

So that’s the race.  In a very, very large nutshell.

With bands every mile and tons of cheering support over most of the course, I can definitely recommend this one.  But be warned that it is a huge race, with over 31,000 people.  And it’s expected to grow even more in the coming years.

If you do decide to do this race, I’ll leave you with this little hint:

– If you are parking, DO NOT follow the crowd and use the exits from I-24 next to LP Field; you’ll be in line for hours.  Instead, take the I-40/I-65 exit for Charlotte Ave, then cut east across downtown and cross the Woodland Street Bridge (the same one you’ll run across later).  I was able to pull straight into an empty parking lot right across the street from LP Field and right into a waiting shuttle bus.  All told, the whole trip, from dropping Goddess, my mom and sister off until I was back with them, took me 30 minutes.  Much better than the hour sitting in line just to get off the interstate last year.

Time to Recalculate?

Hrrmmmmmm.

For the past year, my tested and verified Lactic Threshold Heart Rate (LTHR) has been 157 beats per minute (bpm).  Time and time again, my runs have proven that to be true, not only during workouts, but also during tests to verify that value.

The tests are pretty straightforward, since I use Joe Friel’s Running LTHR test protocol – 1) warm up well, 2) run as fast as you can as a 30 minutes time trial (if you start to slow down towards the end, you’ve gone out too fast and you’ve “failed” the test), 3) measure the average heart rate for the last 20 minutes of the 30 minute run.  This average heart rate is the calculated LTHR.

Anyway, today’s PT session at work was a simple 30-minutes out, 30-minutes back run.  So that is typically a seven mile run, more or less.  Actually, regardless of whether we’ve reached 30-minutes or not, we turn around at a specific stop sign that gives us seven miles.

Luckily that PT session coincided with my scheduled workout today, which was “Warm up for about 15 minutes raising heart rate to 10 bpm below Lactate threshold heart rate (LTHR). Then start 1 mile at 9-11 bpm below LTHR. (recover for 400m). 1.5 miles all out”.  Well, I didn’t quite execute it that way.

Out to the stop sign (28:54 for 3.5 miles), I did keep to the plan, keeping the pace at a very conversational 8:30/mile pace and the HR at 145 bpm.

On the way out to that stop sign, I mentioned to my running partner that I intended (keeping with the scheduled training session) to “puke at some point on the way back”.  His response, once the comment sunk in, was “Great.  That means I’ll be way behind you and doing the same thing”.  But at least I warned him.

So we hit the turnaround and enjoyed the slight downhill for the first 200 yards.  Then the pace picked up.  I was motivated, since there were three guys ahead of me.  The oldest of the three is 13 years my junior, the youngest is 17 years my junior.

It was time to school the young’uns.

And they were about a minute ahead of us at the turn around.

A steady acceleration and I was quickly at my 10K race pace and I started reeling them in.  In about five minutes, I had covered over 3/4 of a mile and caught all three of them.  One heard me approaching, looked over at his shoulder with a surprised look on his face, then groaned when I laughed and told them them that they made it too easy.  His groan was because he knew that he’d have to try and keep up.

A few strides later and they were all left behind.  I never looked back to see how they were holding up, but they fell behind quickly.  Nothing like crushing their young spirits.  ;^)

So I had to run my workout.  I kept up the pressure, working on my time-trial focus as well as turnover.  In those last 20-minutes I covered 2.7 miles, which works out to a 7:26/mile pace.  Not too shabby.  But that takes into account my having to stop for traffic as well as a couple of good hills.  My average HR during that 20-minutes was 160-bpm, which is three bpm over my LTHR.

Technically I shouldn’t have been able to hold that pace for that long.

And reality told me that had the course been 100 yards longer, I wouldn’t have held that pace.  If 157 bpm was my LTHR, then I should have been accumulating lactic acid in my legs at a faster rate than I could flush it out.  But at no point during that run did my legs burn, which would be indicative of a lactic acid buildup.  Matter of fact, all the way through the end, my legs felt good.

But I guarantee you that the last mile was touch and go for everything else.  I have not pushed myself that hard for that long in quite a while.  The last half mile was a lightheaded, dizzy few minutes.  I actually started to worry that I was going to lose it all and be found in a lump on the side of the road.

Now that would teach the young’uns.

But I didn’t back off.  I was hell-bent on pushing myself through the finish.

And I’m glad it came when it did.

Because I almost puked.

Here’s the data (click for details):

So the hard data:

3.5 miles out in 28:54

3.5 miles in in 25:51

Damn that hurt.

So good.

Especially when I had to wait another four minutes for the next guy to finish.

T-15 days until the Country Music Marathon.

LBL 60K – A Day of Mud and Fun

(Written in McCarran Int’l Airport, Las Vegas, NV.  Just a hint – try not to cram yourself into a plane the day after running an ultramarathon.  You just might stiffen up).

WARNING:  This is a fairly long race report, with lots of details.  So for those of you pressed for time, here’s the Cliff Note version:  Bang!, straight, turn, up, down, right, left, up, down, left, right, “on your right”, “on your left”, up, up, up, right, down.  Wash, rinse, repeat three times.  After the third time, turn, straight, go fast, finish.  Whoo Hoo!

Now on to the details.

This run was never an “A” race for me.  It’s always been a “B”, with the overall goal of just finishing.  I’ve run this distance before, but never on trail and never with this much elevation gain.  I did have a vague time goal, but that was mostly to give Goddess a guesstimate on when I’d cross the finish line.  Then she could gauge what kind of day that I was having.  If I didn’t show up around that time, she’d know that things were not going as planned.  If I showed up before, well that was just gravy.

So how did it turn out?

In the week leading up to the race, the forecast was bouncing back and forth between raining or not.  So of course it was raining as Goddess and I drove out to the course.  Looking at the radar before we left, it looked like it would rain for the first few hours, then dry out.  Which is exactly what it did.  I wish it had rained the entire time.

Since we had a big ice storm in early February which closed the entire Land Between the Lakes (LBL) park, I never had a chance to go out and preview the course.  It’s probably a good thing that I didn’t, because it would have made me nervous.  Instead, ignorance truly was bliss.  The course was a challenging one, gaining 3,017’ of elevation in the 60K race.  Luckily it wasn’t steady climbing, but constant ups and downs.  The constant change in the trails did a great job of spreading the load over all of my legs, so I never had a significant fatigue issues.

The rain continued through the start, as expected.  Here I am, just moments from the start.  You can see plenty of rain drops in the picture (and some of the sailboats in the background).

Since it was 39 degrees and raining, I definitely had to wear a jacket.  As you can tell in the picture, it’s an lluminite treated jacket.  In plain daylight, the entire jacket is red.  But when the flash of the camera, or more importantly, the headlight beams of a car, hit the jacket, the Illuminite reflective cells bounce the light back in the direction from which it came.  This specific jacket is covered all over the sleeves as well as down the back. 

So if you’re running, riding or walking at night and you aren’t wearing Illuminite, you’re wrong.  Hundreds of square inches of reflective material covering your body can’t be wrong.  I bought my first Illuminite treated cycling vest back in 1997 and have been a huge fan ever since.  And no, I do not work for the company.  Nor do I get any kick back from them.  But if they were to offer…

Anyway, back to the race.

After a quick huddle at the start line, where the race director used a bullhorn to pass on messages, but pretty much everyone chose to ignore and talk to their friends instead, the gun went off.  And the pace was blistering from the start, with those of us towards the back of the pack holding at solid 13:30/mile pace.  No sense in rushing into these things, right?  Besides, just under two miles into the run we’d all jam into a single-track trail, so there really wasn’t going to much room to move.  With a long day ahead, I found a comfortable spot and stuck to it.  This stuck well with my plan of “Start slow.  Then throttle back”.

But the one thing that I did for this race was revisit my friend, the run/walk strategy.  This time was more aggressive than long runs past, with a six minute run, one minute walk.  The other part of this strategy was that I was going to walk any significant hills, regardless of where I was in my run/walk cycle.  It turned out that on the first lap of the trail, I really didn’t have a choice, since everyone else decided to walk the uphill’s too.  And with no room on either side of the single-track to pass folks, I just fell in line.

Here’s the smoothed elevation map, which is two miles short thanks to my Garmin issues (explained below):

Now that’s a sawtooth!

As expected, the single-track was slickery.  Lots of mud and a few water crossings.  Each would become more significant as the day wore on.  What made it even more interesting were the constant tree roots and rocks.  Some visible, some hidden, all slick with mud.  I saw a couple of impressive face plants during the day; luckily no one was hurt.  And luckily I was not one of those people.

So it was muddy, slick and there were landmines (roots and rocks) everywhere.  To make it even more entertaining, most of the turns were off-camber and the switchbacks were steep.  It did make for many interesting moments.  But at no point did my hands touch earth, unlike the ones who went sprawling.

The loop was about 11 miles long, with aid stations set up every 3-4 miles.  The length of an individual runner’s race dictated how many loops – the half-marathon was one loop, the full marathon was two, the 60K was three and the 50-miler was four.  So as the run went on, the trail emptied considerably.  By about mile 8, we had spread out far enough that I could keep an eye on the folks ahead, but they were far enough away that I didn’t have to worry about them.  Same behind.  But we’d all get bunched up again right after the aid stations.  By the end of the first lap, a huge chunk of the runners headed to the finish line.  So the second loop was pretty sparse as far as runners go.  By the third lap, I’d go for 10-15 minutes at a time between seeing another runner.  It was quite tranquil.  I loved it!

Throughout the course the evidence of last month’s ice storm was apparent.  Trees down everywhere, including across the trail.  Over the past month, a bunch of volunteers got out and cleared the trail, cutting down the unsafe trees and cutting a way through the tree fall so that we wouldn’t have to climb over every single one.  Some stretches of trail were still quite treacherous, especially where the root ball had undercut the trail, then the tree fell in the storm, up heaving the trail and leaving a huge hole .  That situation made for an interesting shuffle through the hole, especially in the mud.

But the conditions didn’t slow some folks down.  I was lapped at about the 22 mile mark, so the couple of guys that cruised by me were either running the 36- or 50-miler.  The third passed as I was swapping out for clean socks at the end of my second lap – he was headed for the finish line for the 60K. That means he finished at least 2.5 hours ahead of me.  Talk about humbling, but he was not my race.  My race was totally internal.  At least until the end.

So when I’d come across another runner, I had choice to pace off them for a while or just try and get around.  The toughest part about pacing off of someone was that you didn’t know what race they were doing.  Thanks to my easy pace at the beginning (start slow, throttle back) I did more passing than being passed.

I had only a couple of physical issues during the race.  At about mile 19 I realized that both of my watches were getting really tight.  I wear my Garmin Forerunner 305 on my left wrist and my Timex Ironman on my right to keep my on my run/walk cycle.  Anyway, they were starting to get uncomfortable, so as I went to adjust them I realized that both of them getting tight.  That meant that my extremities were swelling.  That’s a situation that I recognized immediately as a possible early warning sign of hyponatremia.  I had been drinking frequently, probably more than necessary in the low-40’s and wet conditions.  I had been taking my Endurolytes, but not enough to balance out the amount of water I was taking in.  So I made it a point to not drink anything else for the next 3-4 miles, which worked out well.  The swelling subsided and I made it through with no ill effects.  I continued my feed cycle throughout that period, and luckily didn’t have any gastro issues from not drinking with the food, so apparently I had plenty of fluid in my stomach.  So from that point on I made it a point to not drink as frequently as I normally do.

Right around that same time I felt my right foot starting to get a hot spot.  No surprise, since my shoes and socks had been soaked for the past four hours.  So as soon as I hit the drop bags at the end of the second loop, I swapped socks.  I stuck with my standard – Injinji’s as liners, Thorlo’s as outers.  The combination has served me well for a year now and this day was no different.  With the dry socks, I never had any more foot issues.

Those socks managed to stay dry since the rain tapered off during the second lap.  While this was a good sign, it made conditions much more interesting.  A few of the stretches already had thick mud that had tried to pull my shoes off.  On the third lap, most stretches of mud were that way.  Every foot step was a fight against the mud to get it to release my shoes.  It sure wreaked havoc with trying to keep a rhythm.  But the mud didn’t win.

By the last half of the third loop I started passing the walking dead.  Some folks out there were having a rough go of it.  During one of my walk cycles I talked to a guy who was also doing the 60K and he asked how I could be so fresh.  I explained that it had to be my run/walk cycle.  I quickly explained the concept to him, then the watch went off and it was time to run again.  He tried to keep up, but that lasted all of 10-15 steps.  I didn’t see him again until he walked in to the food area after the finish.

How good was I feeling at this point?  I seriously considered stepping it up to the 50-miler.  They had provisions for racers to step down a distance, but I’m not sure about stepping up a distance.  Plus, Goddess and I already had dinner plans and I still had to pack for this trip, with an early morning flight the next day.  So I stuck to the 60K.  But I’m pretty sure I could have done another lap and kept it under the 11-hour cutoff time.

By the last quarter of the third lap, I was picking up the pace.  Unfortunately, this stretch was also the most technical part of the course, with lots of roots, several drops, a few deep ravines (with some water) and a wall of mud.  I knew that there were other 60K racers in front of me and I made it my mission to hunt each and every one of them down.  They were to be my “victims”.  At this point the race was no longer internal, but totally external.

I hit the end of the third lap, grabbed a quick drink and moved my drop bag to the delivery pile so it would make it back to the finish area.  My first “victim” was dropped right there.  The next was up the road a hundred yards or so and he was dropped quickly.  Over the rise and I saw a string of folks, almost all walking the walk of the dead.  Those that weren’t walking were doing not much better than a shuffle.  Me?  I felt great.  Matter of fact, over the next two miles to the finish line, mostly uphill, I averaged a 7:35/mile pace and pushed my HR right up to my lactate threshold.  And I had a smile on my face the whole way.

I still managed to say a word of encouragement to each and every “victim” as I blew on by.  One guy even exclaimed “Jesus Christ” as I went flying by.  That made me run faster. 

In those last two miles I passed seven runners.  I had my sights on two more, but ran out of distance.  Had we had another quarter mile, I would have got them.  But that’s OK.  I crossed the line grinning from ear to ear.  And that’s the important part.

                                             

On the left is me right after my finish.  I told you I had fun!

On the right are shoes, socks and a Road ID (left ankle).  Really, there’s no need to run in anything else.  And some could argue against the socks and the shoes, but not the Road ID.  If you don’t have one, get one.  Now! 

Race Vignettes:

- All three laps I had to laugh at my reptilian brain.  One single root in the path, at first glance, would trigger the instantaneous “snake” thought deep down, just before my eyes would snap back to it and register it as a root.  The same root.  All three laps.  The shape and color mottling were perfectly boa.  Even though this is definitely the wrong part of the world for a boa.

- At one of the outlying aid stations, I came up upon a women running the 50-miler (I could tell by her race number).  She was having some gastro issues and took advantage of the peanut butter crackers that were offered.  As she ambled off into the woods, she let out one of the loudest belches I have heard.  A few minutes later as I was coming up behind her, another one.  I heard one last one as she faded behind me.  I never did find out if the crackers helped, but she definitely stepped down to the 60K, since Goddess and I saw her in the post-finish food area about 40 minutes after I finished.

- After one of the other outlying aid stations, someone had hung a pair of well-used panties off a tree limb.  Although the sight of them was quite disturbing, it did lend itself to a laugh once each lap.

Official Results:  7:38:31 for 60K.  (here it is Monday evening and the official results aren’t in yet, so I’ll have to wait to post the AG and OA results).

The GBU rundown:

The Good - Everything.  The course, the volunteers, the conditions.  Even my Garmin Foot Pod worked throughout the entire race, even after being dunked in streams over and over again as well as being completely coated in mud.  Run/Walk definitely works for me at these longer distances.  I was fresh, fresh, fresh all the way to the finish.  No bad stretches at all.  And while I’m tired today, I’m not sore.  That’s huge!

The Taper – Thanks to some good tools that I’ve discovered recently, I’ve found that I had been peaking for my races about a week too late, effectively cutting in to my taper and meaning that I was entering my races fatigued.  Along with my modified schedule thanks to this this discovery, my carb and salt load in the days prior were spot on.  Without having a clue as to how I’d do on this course, I finished just eight minutes slower than my guesstimated time that I told Goddess that I’d finish in.  Not too shabby.

A huge hat tip to the several ladies who walked the marathon.  I met the first ones as I finished my second lap.  I passed several more during my third lap.  They were out there for a long day, but each and every one had a smile on her face. 

And an even “huger” hat tip to the volunteers.  Every single one was smiling all day long, even in the cold and pouring rain. 

The Bad – Technical issues with my Garmin.  It turned off a few times; twice my fault, a few more times for some unknown reason.  Also, I lost my HR for a good 2.5 hours in the middle of the race.  I figured that I had pulled a rookie move by not replacing the battery in my HRM strap.  But it came back all of the sudden.  Then dropped out again.  Then back on again.  Then on the rest of the race.  Very strange.  But I’ll change the battery anyway.

To the few that wore their headphones on the single-track and had the volume high enough that they couldn’t hear the calls of “on your left” or “on your right”.  I’m all for using whatever works for you to get through the day, but if you’re gumming up the works because you can’t hear someone calling to pass, you’re wrong!  Full disclosure:  I took my mp3 player along, figuring I might need some motivation during my third lap.  I put the buds in my ear for about three minutes, then took them out.  I hate running with them at any time (except on a dreadmill), so it was more of a distraction than a help.  And at no time during my run with them in was there another runner in sight, either ahead or behind.

The Ugly – Not a single thing.  Well, those panties were, but…

So where does that leave me?  Poised very, very well for my “A” race in just over five weeks – The Country Music Marathon.  Last year’s CMM was a huge PR for me (which I’ve since broke on a much, much hillier course).  This year I’m shooting to beat my PR yet again.

A Modest Proposal

On today’s New York Times front page is an excellent article on biking in NYC.  I think that it applies everywhere.

Because, as Pogo said:

Many of the issues that Robert Sullivan brings up are exactly the reasons that I quit riding with organized bike clubs many, many years ago, no matter where I am in the world.  I got sick and tired of watching the club pack ride straight through a 4-way stop as if the law didn’t apply to them, then having to deal with irate drivers while riding solo.  And while I applaud the overarching goal of Critical Mass, some cyclists use the events as an excuse to act like a bunch of hoodlums, thereby negating any positive effects their effort may have.

So ride like the wind and ride strong, but ride like your grandmother is watching.

Ace

This won’t mean much to most, but it’s a bit of bragging.

Being in the military, fitness is a significant part of our job.  Matter of fact, we’re actually afforded a couple of hours every day during work hours to work out.  How perfect is that for me?  So we set aside the first two hours of the day for organized Physical Training (PT).  The downside for me is that the workouts are basic enough to challenge those that aren’t in shape, but not so challenging that it breaks them (that’s not the goal).  So I’ll often run the five miles to work and then start PT.  Then I’ll run home at the end of the day, stretching my afternoon run from 5-13 miles or more if need be.  Rinse, repeat the next day.

Anyway, the proof was in the pudding this week.  We had our PT test, which consists of a waist measurement, crunches, push ups and timed 1.5-mile run.

The waist measurement has been the bane of my existence.  In order to get a perfect score of 50, one must have a waist measurement of less than 32.5″ (for men).  Age is not a consideration, nor is height.  It’s actually measured just below the navel.  And for every half-inch greater than 32.5″, one loses 1.25 points.  Even though I was in shape to race Ironman-distance races, I still had enough around the mid-section that I’d lose 8 points before I even started.

But thanks to switching to a Primal/Paleo diet at the start of my deployment to Iraq, those inches have all but melted off.  I did lose some weight by switching, but mostly the fat melted away as my body composition shifted.  But don’t mistake my use of the word diet to mean that I went on a diet.  No, I actually had done a lot of research and decided that the way I had been eating hadn’t been working for me, so I modified the way I was eating.  For those who don’t know what Primal or Paleo diets are (and don’t click on the links above), the gist of it is getting back to a more natural way of eating, minimizing the processed foods and eliminating grains (for many different reasons).  Some mistakenly call them “low carb” diets, which they are not; it’s just a matter of getting carbs from natural sources, not processed sources.  Perhaps that will be a different post, since this one is already getting sidetracked.

Anyway, thanks to the sculpting that the diet change has brought about, I now measure at a cool 32.0″ just below the navel.  So that hurdle is out of the way.  The rest is easy.

Crunches – must do more than 47 in one minute.  Done.

Pushups – must do more than 40 in one minute.  Done.

Timed 1.5-mile run – must run faster than 10:21 to get full points.  Done, with a very comfortable, evenly paced 9:45.  Even after putting  20-miles on the legs in the previous 36 hours.

Now, I’ll admit I took advantage of my age group.  Once one turns 40, the run time gets a bit slower and the pushups and crunches are a few less; only the waist measurement doesn’t change.  But I actually ran faster than the 35-39 and 30-34 age groups require for a perfect score.  So next month’s goal is to add the few extra pushups and crunches and then ace the 35-39 age group PT test.  After that…

Plus, it’s fun to leave the twenty-something’s strewn all over the track during the run.

The Thrill Is Gone

Ummm.  Yeah, no it’s not.  Not even close.

But what a great tune.

One we got to see played live Thursday night.

First off, for those of you who are fretting over the silliness known as Valentine’s Day – I’m sorry.  Goddess let me off the hook regarding that day while we were dating.  Simply put, the day doesn’t make her feel special, so what’s the point?

Instead we celebrate (Goddess’) Day.  I inserted (Goddess) to save you all from the pain of my syrupy pet name for Goddess.  Besides, it’s just between me and her.

Anyway, (Goddess’) Day happens to fall on February 16th, which is the day that I proposed to her in the middle of White Sands National Monument in New Mexico.  Right at sunset.  That day makes her feel special.  And no, the thrill is definitely not gone.  And if you ever get a chance to visit WSNM, I highly recommend it.

Picture by kds4850

So last week, I happened to browse across the link for the B.B. King concert at the historic Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, which sold out in minutes back in December (so I thought).  Much to my surprise, I found that there were actually a few seats available.  We’re both big fans, so I snatched up two and decided to make a night of it to celebrate (Goddess’) Day.

What a great show!

The warm-up act was Buddy Guy, who was just amazing.  His set was unfortunately only one hour long, which he filled with ten minute songs and jams.  Seriously.  Thirty minutes into his show and he was just finishing up his third song.  And he’s quite a showman, playing tricks with his guitar while playing, even leaving the stage and strolling through the audience while playing.  He had the whole place rocking, which takes on a new dimension in the Ryman, which is an old church with a wooden floor and wooden pews for seats.

Which makes for amazing acoustics.

After a 45-minute intermission, which proved once again that the Ryman is the only place I’ve ever been where the line for the men’s room is huge and the women walk straight on in, B.B.’s band took the stage.

The next two hours were incredible.  B.B. even apologized for keeping us so late, ending the show after 11pm.  But he was clearly having a great time.  And that’s what impressed me the most.  Here’s an 83-year-old guy who’s been playing for over sixty years (he even mentioned that he was playing clubs before most of our parents were born), but he clearly loves what he’s doing.

And the two thousand people in attendance definitely loved what he was doing too.  The entire show pulled hoots and hollers from the crowd, lots of clapping in time and plenty of toe tapping.  Again, on the wooden floors and pews, the toe tapping takes on a whole new feel.  During quiet portions of songs, the crowd kept time, which sounded pretty good.  Except there are quite a few in the audience that didn’t have any rhythm.  Some so bad that it’s a wonder that they could even procreate.

Here’s Buddy and B.B. playing together (in what appears to be a video from the 80’s).  No video or pics from last night’s performance.  The camera nazi’s were in full force, swooping down on people as soon as they lifted a camera.  A few were even escorted out after repeated warnings.

After the show, we were starving.  We were hoping to grab a late-night breakfast at IHOP, but the one that we knew about was closed.  Since when does IHOP close?  So once again, the romantic side of me comes out and there I was, at 1:30 am, treating Goddess to Waffle House.  Reminds me of the romantic birthday dinner we had for her at Kentucky Fried Chicken.

But we won’t go into the reasons for that one.  This is a family show.

Is the thrill gone?  Not for B.B. King.  Not for Buddy Guy.

And certainly not for Goddess and I.

60 and 60

Have you ever been stopped dead in your tracks while running?

I mean seriously stopped dead.

Physically?

Wednesday was rockin’ and rollin’ around here.  A strong cold front was pushing through and we got a few batches of strong winds.

The first was in the morning, with winds out of the south at 20-30 mph.  That worked out fine, since my run in to work is headed north.  So it was a wonderful tailwind.  No effort and still managed to knock out consistent 8:30 miles.  Which was a surprise, since the prior evening’s 10-miler really worked the legs over.

During the day we had a line of storms roll through.  The 55mph winds that accompanied it were interesting, blowing down quite a few trees that were damaged during the ice storm of two weeks ago.  But I was safe and snug in my office, watching out the window.  After the storms rolled through, the winds remained quite strong, slowing turning west at 25-35 mph.  At the rate they were turning westerly, I was thinking that I’d get a quartering tailwind for the run home.

That’s what I get for thinking.

Late afternoon, the winds remained west-southwest.  Quartering headwind for the run home.

And they picked up.

So I got a five mile resistance training session in, facing into a 45-60mph quartering headwind.  Good fun.  I just had to watch for trees and power lines.

At least it was 60 degrees.

And the invisible smack-down.  Mid-stride.  Going from moving forward to stopped dead,  just like that.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

Because it’s good to be alive.

Photo by Kelley Mari

(not me by any means, although that’s what it felt like.   Vroooooom)

The Surly Bonds

I’m a news junkie.

And at no point today did I see any mention of today being the 23rd anniversary of the Challenger explosion. Which to me is a shame. A damn shame.

It was finals week during my senior year. I heard about it at school that day. When I got home, I remember calling my mom at work and asking her if she had heard; of course she had. She had one question for me that I remember vividly – “Bill, if they were to call you right now and ask you if you’d go up tomorrow, would you go?”. My answer was “Hell yes!”. Today the answer is the same.

And this weekend will be the sixth anniversary of the loss of the Columbia.  Being the (not so) closet geek* that I am, it was quickly apparent that something had gone horribly wrong when the TV bobblehead announced that the shuttle was a minute overdue.  Goddess wanted to know what was wrong when I said “Oh Shit” while the bobblehead kept talking about how beautiful a morning it was in Florida and that they were anticipating the arrival of the shuttle.  This inane chatter went on for another 10 minutes while I just kept shaking my head.

So please take a moment, raise your glass and recite the fourth stanza from Laurence Binyon’s “For the Fallen”, which is usually used as a remembrance for fallen soldiers, but I believe is appropriate in this situation:

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

To me, the crews of these two missions, as well as the many before them, are the true pioneers, and the true heros, of our generation.  Not big guys in pads hitting each other on fields or (dare I say) people on the coast of Kona.  These individuals knew that they were truly putting their life at risk, yet charged headlong into the task.

While I may not hold them in quite the same regard as gentlemen like Specialist Michael Carter, I do have a tremendous amount of respect for them.  And those who know me well know that I don’t just hand out respect.

And it’s folks like that they get me to say “HELL YEAH!”

*Closet Geek – Yes, I read the Columbia Accident Investigation Board report in its entirety the day that it was released earlier this month.  All 400 pages.

And now for something…

…completely different.

I love art.  Especially things that people make by hand.  I have no skills in a shop, so I’m always impressed with things that people make, especially when done very well.  As is this wooden Vespa.  Click on the pic to see more.

Another that impresses me is Ezra, who showcases his hand-made bicycles (typically single-speeds) over at Fast Boy Cycles.

While you’re there, stop by his blog (warning: some words and images may be NSFW) and show Ezra some love.  The artist has been battling cancer for a while now, yet continues to craft gorgeous bikes as well as compose some wonderful photographs.

On our home front, lots of ice last night/this morning and more likely overnight, then snow.  Today’s run was bagged, since even getting to a treadmill would have been a hassle.  And running in 32F while it’s pouring rain and the ground is covered in ice was not my idea of a smart thing to do.  So instead I spent some quality time wrapped in a blanket with Goddess.