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.

40!

Well, it’s a few more days until I hit that milestone.  Honestly, just another day in my book.  But today, as part of the B-Fit Birthday Challenge, as well as giving me something to focus on for training while here in Iraq, I ran 40 miles (well, 41.5) in celebration of my fitness.  But before I get to the report:

Thank you all so much for your generosity!  So far you’ve managed to donate almost $700 to the Fisher House, which is incredible.  Absolutely incredible.  I’ve had donations from family, friends, the blogging community, as well as complete strangers who heard what I was doing through word of mouth (or e-mail).  Your generosity is astounding.  THANK YOU!

Anyway, on to the run.

I started off at 11:50pm, about 5 minutes behind schedule.  Nice and cool, a slight breeze, the waning moon climbing in the eastern sky.  The first 27 miles, which I ran solo, went by very quickly.  Very comfortable too.  The temperature at midnight was 88F (31C) and it cooled down to 77F (25C) before sunrise.  Now, keep in mind that temperature range is very cool for me; you might recall that all of my long runs this summer started with temps around 106F (41C) and would often never cool below 100F (38C) the entire time.  So this was a welcome change.  Matter of fact, there were points on the run that I actually felt chilled!

I started off at a very comfortable 11:00/mile pace, which was my average pace goal for the entire run.  The next few miles were actually quicker, dropping down into the 10:40s.  I maintained a steady pace, using the 4-minute run/1-minute walk strategy that has served me well.  By mile 13, my average pace dropped below 10:30/mile, which was quite a bit quicker than I had planned.  But I was feeling good and my heart rate stayed right where I needed it to be, so I kept at it.  By mile 26 I was down to a 10:24/mile average pace and actually hit 26.2 miles (full marathon) just 4 minutes off of my PR for that distance!  I was feeling strong.

The overall pace dropped slightly over the next 10 miles, then the wheels came off right after mile 36.  Even then I was able to hold a decent forward motion and I knew I was going to finish.  Here’s the accumulated pace (bars) overlaid with my actual pace for that mile (line):

Note that refueling are off the clock.  Although not reality for an organized run, had I left the clock running while I was doing those things, I’ve found that it really messing with my overall pace and gives me an unrealistic picture of my effort.  In a supported race, I’d have someone handing me my fuel.

Anyway, the last 10 miles were a 15K race that happened to be scheduled for this morning.  It worked out perfect, since all of the folks that planned on supporting me during the last 10 miles also planned on doing that run.  When I first started planning this run, all I asked was for support during that last 10 miles, knowing that’s when I’d need it most.

I got to the start line about 30 minutes prior to the race start.  It worked out perfect, since I was able to change socks, shoes and shirt.  The dry clothes felt great.  Plus, I had a chance to eat some real food.  Anyway, the race started about 15 minutes late, but I was OK with that.  The pre-race brief really put my whole run into perspective.  The unit that had organized the run lost one of their own this past week, leaving behind a pregnant wife and 5 year old son.  The race was dedicated to him.

Cruising through the crowd, it was fun to listen to the folks complaining about how they felt at mile 3.  I coulndn’t help but smirk as I went by.  The course was a fun course, being more a trail run that an road run.  It was a welcome change, especially since the first 30 miles were all on asphalt.  But the way they soak down the dirt, it becomes harder than concrete and nowhere near as smooth.  But I was pretty adept at finding lines in the softer sand.  Even through this stretch, my run pace was averaging 9:00/mile, while the walk breaks kept my mile splits between 10:00  and 10:30/mile pace.

After mile 36, we transitioned from the dirt roads back to the asphalt.  The transition between these two runs flipped the switch.  A small rise and turn and that was it.  Immediately, the legs decided they just weren’t going to move as fluid as they had.  So I just kept working through it.  My overall pace started dropping pretty rapidly, but I knew I was going to finish.

At mile 37.5, I stepped into the porta-loo.  That was a good sign, since I was doing everything I could to make sure I remained properly hydrated.  For some reason I decided to stop my Garmin, which I never do for a potty stop.  And since it’s something I don’t normally do, I didn’t restart it.  I realized that mistake 1.5 miles later.  And since part of the requirements for the B-Fit Birthday challenge are to post a bit of proof, I needed to make sure my Garmin showed at least 40.0 miles.  So my 40-mile run now became a 41.5-mile run.

But that was OK, since it lined up well with another run I was participating in.  The folks that put on the Harpeth Hills Flying Monkey Marathon had put together a 42-mile “fun run”, which just happened to be today.  No entry fee, no support, just folks getting together to run.  Pretty much what I was doing, so I signed up as the Baghdad contingent.

Those last miles were tough.  My watch was beeping at me to keep me on schedule for the 4-minute run/1-minute walk plan, but I ignored it.  Luckily my very understanding support crew kept supporting me even though they were beginning to hurt too.  When I wanted to just walk the rest of the way, they’d wordlessly start running, knowing I’d follow.  So we managed to get across the line.

Details:

40.0 miles

Total running time: 7:15:57

Total clock time: 8:25

Fastest pace a 3:58 mile?  Yeah, right.

And the quick GBU rundown:

The Good:

- I absolutely nailed this taper.  Perfect.  Although I had struggled with maintaining a high mileage peak during August and I was concerned, the taper really set me up for a great run.  Even a week ago, I was starting to get concerned, but then this week I could feel my legs getting real twitchy and just begging for a long run.  Even last Sunday’s half-marathon was just a tease for them.  This week’s nightly 3-4 mile runs were just a tease too.

- Carbo load period.  This was difficult for me to get through.  Having done an excellent job of sticking to a Paleo/Primal diet, the only way that I could load properly for this run was to eat stuff that I hadn’t had in almost five months.  And honestly, I hadn’t missed it.  By the time I woke up just prior to the run, I knew that I had loaded properly, feeling completely bloated.  I know the load was a signficant part of my success.

- Electrolyte load period.  Hindsight over my past race issues pointed to a lack of electrolytes, even though I regularly take pills during the events; turns out that those were just staving off the inevitable, which was compelete depletion, since I’m such a heavy sweater.  Discussing with other endurance athletes, we came to the conclusion that I’d likely need to load up on electrolytes in the days prior to the event.  I did, and it worked very well.  None of the issues that I had in the past.

- Pacing.  Working (and working, and working) on pacing during my long runs this year has really helped.

- Thanks to Ramadan, the call to prayer started at 3am.  I can’t describe how beautiful the prayers sound, echoing through the night.

- Great support!  Not just here, but around the world.  A co-worker ran with me virtually while in Afghanistan, Goddess ran with me in Kentucky, and the many folks here who supported me via e-mails and actually running.  I couldn’t have done it without them.

- 40 miles!

The Bad:

- Doing something out of practice.  Stopping that Garmin at mile 37.5 really changed the face of the last few miles.  I knew I’d have to run a bit past the finish line of the 15K to make the full 40, but having to run a full two miles after that was mentally tough.

The Ugly:

- ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!

And for now, a few days off from running, then nothing focused for a little while.  But not too long, since I now need to teach my legs how to run hills over distance, since I’ll be running the Harpeth Hills Flying Monkey marathon soon after I return home.  And that marathon is nothing but hills.

I Want Credit For Trying It

OMG, this is so my situation right now.

Over here, KBR runs the DFACs (Dining Facilities).  Nope, we can’t call them Chow Hall’s anymore.  But we do anyway.

Well, the DFACs have quite a spread.  So good, in fact, that a significant portion of the folks over here actually gain weight.  Nothing like having an all-you-can-eat buffet for every meal of the day.

Quite a departure from 10+ years ago, where we’d deploy folks that were in danger of getting drummed out for weight issues.  Deploy them for 120 days and they’d come back 10-15 (or more) pounds lighter.

So what does that have to do with Frazz’s dilemma?

I have a co-worker here who talks every day, every meal about how he needs to lose weight.  Every meal he pushes back from the table and says that he’s headed to the desert bar because he can’t help himself.

And he’ll talk to every new person we meet about how he needs to lose the weight and control his eating.

So he got a used bike.  Cheap.  Like ten dollars cheap.  But you don’t want (or need) anything more than that.  He got it from someone who was heading home.  Certainly not a bike that I’d race or train with, but certainly something that would do a good job of getting around and maybe cranking a few laps around the lakes.

You know, something that would help burn off some of that dessert.

First ride, he comes back and says that it’s unusable.  Why?  Because the back wheel wobbles.

I offered to go after it with a can of WD-40 and a wrench to true the wheel.  Nope, that’s too much trouble.  Easier to complain about it

So I do feel Frazz’s pain.

Ass Sweltering Pain

Yep, that’s what I’m calling my race report. Three simple words, combined, encapsulate the week leading up to, and including, the National Marathon To Fight Breast Cancer, aka “Running with Donna 26.2″. Warning: This is a long, long, long post.

First off, the ass. I won’t include a link here, since most of you know what one is. Matter of fact, I’ve been called one from time to time. It’s even likely I’ve been called one in the past 24 hours. But I digress.

For those of you that follow this blog, you’ll know of my inability to run for the past month due to a very painful “calf pull” that I experienced in mid-January. A couple of weeks off from running, as well as stretching and massage, did seem to help. At least until I ran on it again. With only two weeks until the marathon, I was desperate to find something to fix my pain. So last week, while driving to the rodeo, I did some exploratory poking and squeezing on my calf (while driving, which I DO NOT recommend). The exquisite pain that shot up my thigh, into my glute and the small of my back got me to thinking and a bit of research once we got home that night. With the help of my Trigger Point Therapy Workbook and TriggerPoints.net, I was able to narrow down the culprit, which certainly didn’t cross my mind in the previous weeks.

Who would’ve thought that a debilitating calf issue would be caused by your butt? Even with my experiences and successes with trigger points over the past year, I certainly didn’t. In the picture below, my particular issue is the one on the right.

As you can see, the X’s mark the trigger points and the red areas mark the associated pain. I didn’t typically feel any pain in my hamstring area and had only felt the pain in my cheek area during my long runs leading up to my “calf pull”. The majority of the pain associated with this trigger point was in the area on the outside of my calf.

But that still wasn’t the “calf pull” area. That area was more associated trigger point #2 on the Soleus, but frequent massage and pressure on that trigger point did not solve the problem, so it had to have something else contributing. That turned out to be the Gluteus Minimus.

After referring to the book and the web site, it was time for a bit of exploration. For such a sensitive area, I’d normally turn to the Goddess for help, but one thing usually leads to another, so I had to do this one myself. Plus, since the gluteus minimus lies beneath the gluteus maximus, the probes had to be deep and forceful; not something she enjoys doing (she tells me “that’s your job”). The probes confirmed a line of large knots right where the muscle attaches to my pelvis. Let me tell you, there was no pleasant in this probing.

So all last week I massaged them by sitting on a tennis ball on the living room and slowly rolling over the muscle, working from one knot to the next. Quite a few times the pain took my breath away. Following each rolling session I’d stretch. I found the most effective stretch for me is the Prone Glute Stretch, which feels absolutely wonderful. By following this sequence on both legs last week, I was comfortable that I could start the marathon on Sunday.

In the final days before the marathon, I revamped my original goal (break 4:00) and came up with three separate goals, two of which I could fall back on if the previous goal was unattainable. They were:

1. Break 4:00. Even with one month off, there’s always the possibility that the forced rest from the injury would deliver me to the line so fresh that I would comfortably crank out the required 9:09 miles (which I was doing with ease on my long runs leading up to my injury last month).
2. Complete the race. With the most likely possibility that I would still be feeling the effects of my calf through the race, I would have to adjust my finish time goal on the fly and hold out for the finish.
3. Stop the insanity, wait for Goddess and my sister to catch up, then walk the remainder of the half-marathon with them. The intent of this goal was to continue to heal and hopefully set myself up for April’s Country Music Marathon in Nashville.

The overarching goal was to not injure myself any more. But doesn’t that go without saying?

Goal number three was the only goal as recent as 7 days out from the race. I had resigned myself to not running the marathon and would enjoy the morning with Goddess and my sister. That certainly isn’t a bad thing, not by any means, but my goal signing up was to race the 26.2. But with the “discovery” of my gluteus minimus, goals 1 and 2 quickly became more attainable.

After a gaggle at the start area (see “BAD” and “UGLY” below), we were off. I was very comfortable at a 9:30 pace for the first few miles, figuring that if I was to achieve goal 1, I would warm up during the first few miles and then be able to slowly ramp up the pace. That’s my typical race strategy anyway, since I don’t typically warm up for 4-6 miles.

By mile 4, I could feel my calf. No pain, but a steady discomfort; enough discomfort to back off the pace and toss goal #1 out the window. At no point during the 26.2 miles did my calf hurt like it had during the previous month, so that was a huge success.

By mile 6 I had passed the turn-around for the half-marathon, so I was committed to the full.

At mile 10, my quadricep heads started to cramp slightly. Not a good sign, but a reality of the day.

By mile 13.1, I was a full 20 minutes slower than my half-marathon split at the Flying Monkey Marathon, which had over 2,000′ of climbing. This course was flat, with only 215′ of total climbing! It was a run-walk strategy for the last 13.1 miles.

Why so slow? Other than the leg issues, for me it was the weather. Over the past several months, I’ve been running in a Kentucky winter. Runs in the snow, runs in some pretty cold wind chills, runs in dreary overcast days with temperatures hovering in the 20’s. The morning we left to drive to Florida, it was 19 degrees. And that was after a couple of days of ice and snow. In Florida, by the time the race started on Sunday morning, it was 69F with 75% humidity and continued to get worse, settling at 75F and 65% by the time I finished. In other words, relatively oppressive heat.

Although I knew it was going to be warmer, I failed to properly build my hydration and electrolytes in the days leading up to the race. It caught up to me.

I inhaled my Clif Shot Bloks, wishing I had more than just one pack of the Margarita with Salt. I started gulping the Accelerade that they provided and even talked a First Aid tent volunteer out of his bag of Lays Potato Chips at about mile 20. I was able to keep the cramping at bay for the most part, but it would rear its head enough to keep me focused on sucking down as much electrolytes as I could.

Goddess called and told me that she and my sister had finished. I was (and still am) so proud of them; neither had done anything like that before, not even so much as run a 10K. They committed to walking the 13.1 with each other.

Between miles 20 and 21, I had the most amazing walk with a lady. I first approached her because she was wobbling like crazy and I was worried about her. The heat was definitely taking its toll on everyone. Turns out she was a 68 year old who was using the marathon as a training run for an upcoming 50-mile race. She was quite upset with her performance thus far because she knew she was fitter than that, just coming off a 70-mile training week and had run under 4:00 in the past year. She was from out west, so the humidity was definitely getting to her. I waved down medical support, who had a talk with her and let her continue. I was quite pleased last night to see that she had finished the race.

By mile 22, I did some quick calculations and realized that I needed to pick up the pace if I was to finish in under 6:00. With the heat and cramping, it was going to be a challenge. At this point, everyone was walking. Occasionally someone would shuffle for a minute or so, but it really was the walk of the dead.

I revamped my walk-run strategy and threw time out the window. No matter if I picked a 2:1 or 1:1 time strategy, I just couldn’t get the legs moving very well after walking. So I decided on a 30:30 strategy, not of time, but of foot strikes; 30 left foot strikes while running, 30 left foot strikes while walking. It kept me focused and moving relatively quickly at a 9:45 pace during the run segments. In the next two miles I figure I passed between 75-100 people. That was a huge confidence boost.

At a mile-and-a-half out from the finish, the worst climb of the day arrived as we had to climb a bridge that crosses the Intracoastal Waterway. Past the last water stop and starting to cramp again, it was back to walking. Turning the last turn, greeted by the sign “The last .2 mile will kick you in the ass” and seeing the finish line got me moving again. The cramping got me walking again. Even coming up to the timing mat that they had set up with 100 yards to go, my leg locked. Luckily that didn’t come through in the pictures. I was passed by quite a few folks at this stage, but I couldn’t have cared less.

Finish time – 5:57:14 by my Garmin, chip time 5:57:18.

The Good -

• I finished. Thanks to the lack of running over the past month, this entered back into my race goals.
• I broke a rule of racing and was better for it. I wore my new pair of Injinji Toe Socks and they rocked! I had been wearing Thorlo’s for the past year+ and had always had problems with blisters on the balls of my feet, no matter how much or how long I ran. The Thorlo’s are thick and have good padding while the Injinji’s are very thin with no padding. So I discovered that with the Injinji’s I’ll likely have to come down half a shoe size to make up for the difference in sock padding. With the thinner socks, my forefoot was sliding around a bit in the shoe box, but absolutely no blisters!
• I had several mental breakthroughs during the race. Details are unimportant, but they happened.
• The communities of Jacksonville Beach and Neptune Beach absolutely rocked! A significant portion of the race ran through neighborhoods, which effectively cut them off to all auto traffic. So the residents made the best of the situation and stood out in their driveways, sprayed the runners, provided oranges and cheered. One group of guys even provided shots of beer at the 21 mile mark (it was GOOD).
• For a first-time event, the course was completely stocked with supplies on the course. There was never a shortage of water, Accelerade or Gu (I didn’t use it, but they had plenty). This was in sharp contrast to several of the more well-established events that I’ve participated in.
• The support from the community and runners (I know I mentioned the community before, but this is different). Since this event was to raise funds for Breast Cancer Research, each of us could wear a sign on our back that said who we were running for. Mine said simply “Mom”, who is a survivor. I had many folks run past saying “I’m running for Mom too”. That was always a great boost. More humbling were the folks who ran by with 7, 8 or 10 names on their sign. More amazing was running and talking with survivors who were out there pushing themselves. The couple of times that I thought about folding I thought about what my Mom and all of these others had gone through; my discomfort paled in comparison.
• The support and advice from those of you out in blogland. Thank you so much for the public and private advice and concern. That really means a lot to me.

The Bad -

• There weren’t corrals for the runners, just pacers with planned finish times, so you would look for your planned finish time and stand near that person. The gun went off and it took a couple of minutes to get to the start line (normal). But once we got moving, it was evident that several walkers had seeded themselves at the front, causing several traffic jams and collisions as the thousands of runners had to work around them. I applaud those ladies for getting out there and moving, but at the front of 8,000+ was not the place to be.
• This also goes for the folks following the Jeff Galloway plan. Overall, I believe that this group did great things for thousands of runners at the marathon, but sticking to the plan in the first mile was a recipe for disaster as the pacer yelled “Walk” and groups of 60+ runners stopped to walk just 3 minutes out from the start line; again, they caused huge traffic jams and many collisions in a very crowded situation. Tempers were flaring already and I’m surprised no one got hurt.

The Ugly -

• The race started a full 30 minutes later than the 8am start time. They knew it was going to be warm and were announcing over the loudspeakers that folks need to adjust their pacing and not plan on a PR, yet still started it late. It looks like they’ve fixed this and have adjusted the start time for next year’s race to 7:30am. Hopefully they’ll start it on time.

Lessons learned -

• Electrolyte loading – I can’t believe I still haven’t figured this one out. I’ve known for many years that I’m a very heavy sweater and that I lose a lot of electrolytes during a race. Yet I never remember to load up on them until I’m in the race.
• A stride-focused walk-run strategy is the key when I get to that stage. I was amazed at how easy it was to get moving once my left foot hit 30. And it was easy to hold an unflagging pace for “only” 30 strides.
• The Base layer is crucial. What’s that? A base layer in 70 degree weather? Yep. After running the Monkey and chafing my nipples down a full 1/32″, I learned that I needed to wear a skin tight layer under my shirt. Let’s just say it was a good thing that I wore a red shirt for that race. Since then I’ve always worn a skin tight technical shirt and haven’t had any problems. I did the same for this race and it was a godsend. Once the heat got unbearable, I peeled my outer shirt and let the slight sea breeze cool me. The wicking effect really kept me cool, even though the shirt was black. I’d even dump a cup of water over me and get chilled, which was great! So if you look at my race pics, you’ll see that I’m wearing two different shirts.
• Stretching, massage and cross-training. I need to do more of each to help with these injuries, all of which have been flexibility related over the past year. I’ve had much success with identifying the appropriate trigger point and relieving the pressure, but some have taken longer to solve and have kept me away from training longer than I’d like. So I now need to schedule more sessions each week.

Will I do this race again? Absolutely. The location was great, the community was great and it had the added bonus of allowing me to spend several days with my parents as well as my sister and her family.

From here it’s the Tom King Half Marathon next month and the Country Music Marathon in April, both in Nashville.

MS Blues Half Marathon: Race Report

In the words of S. Baboo Friday night as we ate dinner with him and GeekGirl – “Life is funny. You just can’t make up stuff this good”. But that doesn’t really have anything to do with this blog. We were already laughing and that line made me laugh even more.

It all started with checking in at our hotel in Jackson, MS. The guy in front of us, wearing his Boston Marathon Finisher’s Jacket, mentioned to one of the hotel staff that this race was going to be tougher than Boston, thanks to the hills. No one mentioned hills. Not in this race. The course profile showed some bumps, but certainly nothing to get concerned about, right?

So we check in to the hotel, grab a quick nap, then head over to the expo to sign in. I call S. Baboo and GeekGirl, who are out driving the course. The first thing he mentions are the hills. And it doesn’t sound good. Further discussion squashes any plans for a PR on this course.

Race morning turned out beautiful for a run, although a bit warmer than I like. But standing around before the start was pretty cool at 45F with a nice breeze. So I stood with Goddess, wrapped up in my sweats until just moments before the horn went off. Then I slipped into the pack, not 30 feet from the front, and started the run.

As expected the first 1/2 mile was pretty slow as everyone is packed together and shuffling along. It took a while, but then things started thinning and and I could move. The plan was to start out slow and throttle back for the first half, then pick up the pace. I planned this for two reasons: 1) with the hills, I didn’t want to go out to hard and blow up, and 2) this was always planned to be just a training run for me (definitely a priority B race, where I didn’t peak and taper like I would for a priority A race).

The first few miles were warming up, talking to Elvis (who invited me back to Graceland after the race), and working my way around the other runners. Not that I was flying, but it was pretty easy to pick out who had started out too hard. The first long uphill was between 3-3.5 miles and folks started drifting back. This hill even slowed my overall average pace a few seconds, but that was fine with me, especially this early in the race.

Through the mid-section of the race, I planned on keeping the pace nice and steady so I’d have something left for the last 4-5 miles. I actually ended up picking up the pace in the mid-section, shaving time off my average pace from miles 3.5-8. So far so good, but the hills just kept coming as we worked our way through the downtown business/capitol district of Jackson.

The last 5 miles started out quite hilly as we worked our way past the fairgrounds and climbed up into a residential area. This is where quite a few folks started walking, but that wasn’t in my plan. I started reeling in more runners as I picked up the pace, but now that I look at the data, I didn’t actually pick up speed. Matter of fact, over my last 5 miles, every 1/2 mile split was within 1 second of each other, either 8:45 or 8:46. How’s that for consistent? Here’s the pace chart and route (click on the picture to see the full image, which includes the full route):

I think the killer was the last 1/2 mile, where we made a left turn and went straight up. It sure felt like a wall at that point. I crossed the finish line at 1:55:46 , not a PR, but just 8 minutes off. Not too bad for a hilly course and a training run. If I remember correctly (the web site’s not updated), that made me 132nd out of 600. Also, I think they had me at 1:56:02, which would account for passing under a railroad track (more on that later).

After Goddess and I drove back to the hotel for a quick ice-bath and shower (Goddess refused to join me for either one), we grabbed the boy and headed back to the race. We sat at the finish “wall” and cheered the marathon finishers on, telling them it was the last hill. There were a few comments of “It sure as hell better be”.

We almost missed S. Baboo as he came sprinting up the top of the hill on his way to a PR! We cheered GeekGirl on as she went up the hill, but it was a few minutes later when we realized that it was her. She finished quite strong herself and I know she’s pleased with the race, especially considering the hills.

So we sat in the finish area, ate some food, listened to some blues and enjoyed the free beer. It was quite an energetic post-race.

After a few relaxing hours in the hotel that afternoon, we met up at a local bar, which sponsored the race. They definitely threw in a great deal, with free entry to all race competitors, plus two free drink coupons. Very nice schwag there! The bands were great, as was the beverage and company. But it all had to come to an end, especially since we had a 7-hour drive home the next day.

I did learn a few things during this race:

1). Pay closer attention to the race profile. Goddess even asked me afterwards when I was going to pick a flat course. My Garmin gave me 1,300 feet of climbing during the 1/2 marathon; BIM Active calculates 839 feet (I believe that more).  Either way, I don’t want to think of what it was for the full.

2). Turn off the “auto pause” feature on my Garmin. We went under a train overpass at one point and it turned off for about 15 seconds. All-in-all, nothing horrible, but just an odd event that took my mind off of my run.

3). Fuel. Making the transition from getting ready for a triathlon and getting ready for a run was difficult. My first half-marathon last year, I ate my normal 600+ calories like I would before a triathlon; too much to run on right away. I scaled that back for my marathon and felt a bit better, although I did suffer from some gastro-issues during the last few miles. This time I drank one Ensure (250 cals) and everything worked fine. Also, a few weeks back I found the culprit of my stomach pains during the latter parts of my runs- my long-beloved Hammer Gel. I was on a 10-miler and popped a gel at mile 7. By mile 8-9 I had the familiar stomach pain that I had throughout all of my races last year; the rest of my run wasn’t good. So I switched to Clif Shot Bloks and they worked fine during my long run last weekend. They worked great during this race, too. No issues at all, either during or after. So I ran with my Fuel Belt, water and a package of Shot Bloks. I drank the water at the aid stations and took the occasional swig from my belt. Absolutely no issues.

Anybody need some Hammer Gel?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not slamming Hammer Gel. I’ve been a big fan of Hammer products for the past 12 years and will continue to use them. But I’ll just have to limit the gel use to long training rides and races. No runs.

Pardon the pun.

Would I recommend next year’s Mississippi Blues Half-/Full Marathon? Hells Yes! An excellent course, with bands along the way, plenty of aid stations, enthusiastic volunteers, a welcoming community, great schwag and entertainment make this a race that needs to be on your “must-do” list. Plus, if you live in someplace cold (it was 9-degrees here the morning before we left), a place like southern MS in January is pretty darn warm (and humid). A nice change of pace for a few days.

Food Guidance

Reading Athena’s blog this morning got me to looking around at links.

I found the greatest news concerning dark chocolate. Seven ounces a week!

That on the heels of my doc telling me that two drinks a night is a good thing.

All this great news makes it a bitch to stay near race weight, though.

BTW, I asked the doc if I could bank my drinks during the week and make a withdrawal on the weekend. For some reason, the look was disapproving.

To a halt

Well, if I was rushing on Sunday, Monday brought me to a screeching halt.

Feeling increasingly under the weather through the weekend, waking up early Monday morning was an experience. Flowing from the nose like a hose (hey, that rhymes) and sharp pain in the chest when I coughed or drank anything.

Walking out of the doc’s office, I felt like I needed a picnic basket to carry the bottles. Now there’s an image for you, Fe-Lady.- all 192 lbs of me, skipping with a picnic basket. Outfit is your choice.

Anyway, there went the rest of Monday, which I had off anyway. Goddess and I tried to think back to the last time I was sick. The best we can recollect was about five years ago. So I guess I was due.

Halfway through the day, Goddess walks out of the pantry with my new favorite snack – Special K Chocolatey Delight. Relatively healthy, with chunks of chocolate. What else can you ask for? One of these days I’ll try it with milk. But what’s the rush, right?

I’m telling you, yummy chocolate goodness.

So today I still wasn’t feeling right. So I went into work, grabbed the stack of folders off my desk and worked from home. No sense in getting everyone else sick. I’m just glad I have that sort of flexibility.

And I got to enjoy more of that yummy chocolate goodness.

And from the sounds coming from the kitchen, Goddess is digging in the box. Time to grab some for myself before its all gone.

Clarksville’s Sunrise Century

Holy cow, what a century! Not an impressive time (5:14:47), thanks to the gusty NE winds, which turned out to be in our face or quartering cross for the majority of the ride. But it was a killer, straight from the start.

Standing at the line, about 5th row back, I looked back to see another 150 yards or so of riders filling the road from shoulder to shoulder. And 100ft after the start line it narrowed down to one lane. So I knew we had to move fast to avoid a mess. The pack didn’t disappoint. Average speed for the first 10 minutes was 23mph, with surges to 30mph. Into the headwind.

Two hours into it and we’re still averaging 21mph, most of it into the wind. Then we got to turn southwest for a 8-ish mile run with a nice tailwind. That’s when it got interesting. We had a few folks out ahead and about 50 in our pack. For some reason, the fourth guy in line decided to sit up and lose touch, so I moved around him and bridged the gap. Tired of sitting up in my cowhorns, I moved for a pull at the front. Got down into my aeros (which felt great), shifted gears and got into my groove. Next thing I know I’m dragging the whole pack across the country at 30mph for the next 6 miles. Damn it felt good. I hadn’t done that in a while. I’m not quick, but I can push a gear steady.

Later on, I heard a guy comment (who didn’t know I was right behind), talking about a stretch where we had a great paceline going. He said “that tri guy was trying to kill us, but we were flying and it was fun”. I assured him I wasn’t trying to kill them, but wanted to just take my turn at the front. Over the next 40 miles he didn’t mind sitting in behind me, that’s for sure.

Lots of folks with cramping issues today, which was odd, because it was relatively cool – 64F at the start (7am)/85F at noon. This was the cool weather that I had hoped would come in for IMLOU, although those folks could’ve done without the gusty NE wind. I ended up handing out quite a few of my Endurolytes (lucky I always have extra).

The ride was executed extremely well. Held on the farm roads of northern TN/southern KY, on most of my old riding routes that I used extensively before we moved this past month. Little traffic, smooth roads. We did hear that two riders were hit by a car behind us, although no one knew any details. But given the way some of the folks were riding, it didn’t surprise me. Today was the first time I’d ridden in a large group in about eight years and it still amazes me how little riding etiquette folks have. I know folks were looking at me sideways since I was not a “roadie”, but the roadies were the ones that were having the issues.

Anyway, back to the event. Besides good road surfaces, they placed aid stations every 10 miles along the entire route (both a 100mi and 100K). Well stocked aid stations, with everything that you’d want at an aid station. Me, I carried all my food, so I just needed water. Although I did sneak half a banana and a couple of orange slices at the 80 mile point. My plan today was to make sure my race nutrition was dialed in, which it was. I had been futzing with carrying water to help dilute the HEED, Perpeteum and Gel, but found that by replacing the fuel with water bottles, I end up bonking. Bad call. So this week I bought a Profile Aero Bottle, which held my water while my three bottles held my fuel. It worked perfectly, allowing me to sip my water between slugs of HEED and Perpeteum.

Since they were serving Gatorade on the course (yuck), I carried extra powder in little zip-loc bags. So that got me to thinking that I’ll be forgoing my tri suit during my race and taking the extra few moments to change into bike shorts and jersey. Over my long bricks (100+ miles), I’ve found that the padding on my Pearl Izumi Tri Shorts just don’t keep me chafe free, even allowing one nasty saddle sore to develop. I’ve never had one of those in my two decades of riding. I thought it was a fluke, but another long ride showed some other issues, so I don’t think I’ll wear them on race day. And my tri top has only one pocket, which is great for short rides, but since I’m now going to carry all of my fuel, I’ll need more than one. There were some other advantages today, so I think I’ll go that route. I’m not out to set a record during my race, just to finish. So I’m not worried about a few extra minutes in transition.

Anyway, there were a couple of interesting moments during the ride today. At about mile 25, one of those slow motion moments happened. A guy about 10 feet in front of me was putting his bottle back in the cage. It slipped and fell to the road. I watched it slide across my path, so I knew I was safe. Then it bounced off a wheel straight into my path. It was going to get ugly, real quick. No time to even hop over it, I just went loose and rode over it with both wheels. All I could think of was the pack of guys right on my tail riding over me. But no dramas. The guy was very apologetic, but no harm done, so I set his mind at ease.

The second interesting moment was but 100 yards from the finish. A hard right turn into the school entrance, I stood up to sprint it in. Right at that moment, both legs completely cramped, from toe to hip. I immediately sat down, which relieved the problem. So I tucked aero and pushed it hard through the line. Immediately after I sat up, they did it again. I’ve never seen my quads in the shape that they were in – almost triangular! I was afraid to stop, because I knew I’d fall over. I couldn’t get them to loosen. So there I was, completely locked up, coasting through the parking lot. Nothing was relieving them. Finally I got the idea to pedal backwards, which hurt like hell but worked. To a point. I was able to coast up to the car and get one leg down without making a spectacle of myself. Slowly the other leg released and I was able to stand, but now I was afraid to throw my leg over. I must’ve looked quite funny standing there for a few minutes, trying to figure out what to do. Eventually it all worked out.

I guess that means I left it all on the course, eh?

Anyway, this is starting to rival War and Peace, so I’ll stop.

But not before I share something I overheard as I was leaving. One guy was explaining what he put on the event feedback form. He said that “everything was excellent, although the pigs didn’t smell like bacon. They smelled like pigs. Fix it.”