Rockin’ & Rollin’

Apparently they blew the tornado sirens last night.  We didn’t hear them, but the very close lightning strikes kept waking us up.  Plus, we’re dog-sitting another greyhound, so the two of them were skittish last night, which made it hard to sleep.

The alarm went off (way too early) and we were on the road to another race bright and early.  Luckily it was a local race, so we didn’t have to drive too much.

Which turned out to be a good thing.

We got to packet pickup and they wanted picture ID.  At that point I realized that I had left my wallet at home.  So Goddess drove like the devil and got us back to the house.  We made it back to the race site with 15 minutes to spare.

Wouldn’t you know it - they didn’t ask for ID this time.

Anyway, we were there for the inaugural Clarksville Duathlon - 2 mi run/13 mi bike/2 mi run.

A last minute addition to the race schedule.  After the Country Music Marathon expo, we stopped by our local running store so I could pick up a few more pair of Injinji (did I mention that I love those socks?).  They handed us the flier to the duathlon, which I posted on the fridge, mostly as a gee-whiz.

On Tuesday, three days after the marathon, I hopped on my Softride for a spin to work out the legs.  It was the first time I threw my leg over it since my IM-distance race last September.  That turned out to be a good ride.  I was surprised how good it felt.  So I punted and entered the race.

Then talked Goddess into doing it too.

I’m a bastard.

Fast forward to today.  You already know about the storms and ID snafu.  We hoped that would be the last (but it wasn’t).

The race started about 20 minutes late, but that’s fine.  It turned out the RD had to be pulled away for some reason.  Besides, the race was held at one of our favorite locations in town, the Beachaven Winery.  The stand-in RD mentioned that we were lucky to have been able to start due to the weather.  She stated that a tornado had gone through the south side of town (unverified, since it’s not on the National Weather Service storm report page).

Anyway, a few words and then the start horn went off.  My intent was to go as hard as I could, pushing it through the whole course.  I told Goddess that I hoped to be choking back bile when I finished.  But I also knew that I had to pace myself.

The two mile run went well, averaging 7:08 miles.  Not too hard, but hard enough, setting me up for the bike.

A quick transition and we were out on the road.  Again, knowing I needed to pace myself, I pushed, but not too hard.  Lots of folks went flying by, but I knew I’d see them again.  Two miles in and I started reeling them back, averaging 21mph.  Those that started too hard were already starting to fall back.

At just past three miles, the clusterf*ck began.  Apparently the RD decided to throw in a hard right turn, but didn’t station anyone there.  There might have been a mark on the road, but there are so many rides through that area year round that you couldn’t tell.  So at least half of the field flew right past it.  The realization came a couple of miles later when we approached the transition area.

One of the course workers was quite apologetic and redirected us.  No big deal, it was just going to add a couple of miles to the ride.  But the lead female was in the group and understandably upset.  So we followed the directions that the worker gave us.  Wouldn’t you know it, they were wrong.   A few miles later we ended up back at the transition area, having made another loop.

At that point, the group decided that they were just going to go out and make it a training ride.  I decided to run.  So I got 9.1 miles out of the scheduled 13 miles on the bike.

The last run leg was a bit slower.  I pushed it hard, but ended up averaging 7:44 miles.

As I finished my run, the rest of the group that was lost ended up rolling back in.  Some ran, some didn’t.  I watched as a couple of other riders came from the opposite direction, apparently having missed another turn somewhere and ended up riding towards downtown.  Some just bagged the run after their fiasco of a ride.

I was worried about Goddess, but it turns out she managed to find her way around the entire course.  Turns out that they had phoned the guy at the turn before the right-hander that we missed and he told her to make sure she turned at the next intersection.  Information that would have been good to know for the rest of us!

I joined Goddess on the run, pacing her from light post to light post.  She’s a good egg.  She came in dead last overall, smiling the whole way and still grabbed a third place AG medal.  My Goddess had a podium finish!

So although the bike course was poorly marked and poorly controlled, we still had a good time.  The best part was that the race fees went to the local YMCA.

I did manage to achieve my goal, which was to push as hard as I could (although I didn’t have to choke back the bile).  Of the 1:02:22 I raced, I was deep into Zone 5 for 51 minutes.  Minus the three minutes total that I spent in T1 and T2, that meant that I wasn’t in Zone 5 for only 8 minutes.

It was good to get back on the bike.  I was impressed that I was able to put as much power as I did to the pedals considering I hadn’t ridden in seven months.  Too bad it’ll be another seven months before I have a chance to ride it again.

That was my first du ever.  And it was a lot of fun.  I’ll look to do more in the future.

2008 Country Music Marathon - A Training Run

“Remember, this is a training run” - That’s what Goddess told me as we were driving to Nashville early, early Saturday morning. She’s a good egg, keeping in mind that I typically have great training runs and just don’t live up to my expectations on race day. So a training run it was.

Expo

We waited until the day before to go to the expo, even though they recommend that the locals avoid the rush and go on Thursday. But since my parents and sister were driving up Thursday and my sister had to pick her packet up, we waited until Friday. That was our first clue about how big this race was. We’ve never seen so many folks wandering around downtown Nashville.

The expo was an expo. Lots of ways to spend lots of money, if one’s so inclined. We did pick up a few magnets - “Will Run for Beer“, “Will Run for Wine“, “Running - Cheaper than Therapy” and “26.2 - Been There, Run That“. Gotta have some fun, right?

In the middle, we ran into a road block. At first we couldn’t figure out why, then I spied Denise Austin. So Goddess and I got in line to meet her, since she’s a fixture in this house. Actually, it’s a love/hate relationship. We love to follow her stretching routines and Goddess hates every time Denise says “One more time” during the workouts, because Goddess knows it’s a lie.

So here we are with Denise. Too bad I couldn’t work it out so I was the filling.

Race Day

With Nashville only 50 miles away, we stayed home. Next time we think we’ll get a room in town, since it required a 3am alarm to get to the start line on time. A heavy, heavy rain and thunderstorms on the drive down really made for an upbeat drive (yeah, right). Then the horrible race traffic at LP field, which was backed up quite a bit on the interstate and some folks sat in line for over an hour.

This is where the Race Director really screwed the pooch. Instead of organizing police officers to direct traffic, the intersections at the top of the off-ramps were just flashing red lights. Imagine cars delivering 30,000+ racers and their families, all trying to converge on the same place at the same time. It just didn’t work. And where the 7,000 parking spots at LP field were sufficient in year’s past, it wasn’t even close this year. So lots of folks were ticketed and/or towed, according to news reports. The RD’s got a lot of thinking to do before next year’s event.

Anyway, the rain continued. Luckily enough I had enough foresight to grab some lawn bags to throw over us, so we stayed dry while we waited for the shuttle bus to get us to the start area across town, while we stood in line for the porta-johns (which didn’t have TP by the time we got there [AAARRRRGHHHHH]) and then stood in our corrals at the start line. The rain stopped right before the start, so I was able to toss the bag aside.

I was in corral 6, which was for the folks that were looking for a sub-4:00 finish. Did I have any business being in that corral? Probably not, but that’s where I thought I’d be when I signed up for this race back in December.

The gun went off for the elites right at 7am and it took me only 10 minutes to get to the start line. The RD did a great job of staggering the corrals so that we didn’t get all jammed together in the opening miles. The opening miles were nice and steady and I initiated my run/walk strategy just like I had been doing in training - run six minutes/walk 30 seconds. Lots of well-meaning folks were cheering me on, telling me to not “give up” yet whenever I stopped to walk.

Four miles into it and I finally felt warmed up and settled in to my pace. Right around 10K, I started feeling the joys of not having TP at the start and lucked upon several porta-johns that were well-stocked, with no waiting. So my average pace suffered, but in the long run I know it was for the best.

Solid, steady pacing for the next 10 miles. I hit the halfway point at 1:58, so I was on pace for a sub-4:00. I was feeling quite strong at that point, which fit into my plan of slowly ramping up the pace and pushing a negative split. I was poised well.

At mile 15 I felt a little bit of stomach pain. Nothing significant, but I’ve had enough issues in that arena to recognize the onset. So I settled back a bit and let it work itself out, which it did by mile 17. Which just happened to coincide with the longest hill of the course, located between miles 17-18. That’s when the wheels started to wobble a bit, but I didn’t worry about it. Pushing through that, mile 19 felt good, back down at a comfortable pace.

Mile 20 is when the wheels came off. And that’s when a sub-4:00 slipped by me, both figuratively and literally - I watched with slight dismay as the 4:00-pacer slowly passed by with a group in tow. The cumulative climbing caught up to me, as it did with a lot of people by this point. From here on out, my pace swung from 11:23 to a 14:07 mile 23. I didn’t bonk - even with the gastro issues earlier, I had been fueling right from the start at regular intervals, since I carried my fuel with me instead of relying on the water/food stops.

As you can see, mile 23 was the worst point. I hit a section where both quads locked up on me, so it was some ginger walking for a little while. This cramping surprised me, since I was taking Endurolytes religiously throughout the event and had even loaded up on electrolytes for the previous several days in an effort to stave off any cramping. But as you can see, I was able to work it out and started ramping up the pace for the last few miles.

Once the sub-4:00 goal slipped away, I started thinking about my standing PR. Even through the rough points I knew I was going to set a new PR, so it was a matter of by how much. My next floating goal was to break 4:15, but that slipped by too. Then it was to break my standing PR by over an hour, which was still within reach over the until mile 24. By then I knew I’d have to crank out two 7:00-miles to achieve it and that just wasn’t going to happen. But as you can see, I was able to ramp it up for those last two miles.

I was worried about cramping again, especially as I approached the finish chute. Crossing the 26-mile point, I kept looking at my Garmin and wondering if I was going to break 4:30. I wasn’t sure, since the Garmin turned off on me for less than a minute early on (between miles 3-4). That last two-tenths of a mile was uphill and then a hard left turn. I kept accelerating up the hill and made that turn, throwing all caution to the wind. My Garmin clocked me at a 6:15/mile pace for that last tenth of a mile and the legs locked right after I crossed the line. My Garmin told me 4:29:02, but I knew it was more than that. So I had to wait until I got home to find my official time, which was 4:29:47.

A new PR by over 56 minutes.

Official splits:

6084  •  Bill Anders  •  M-39  •  Marathon  •

Gun: 7:00:30 AM	5k	6Mi	10Mi	Half	20Mi	Finish	O’All	Sex	Div
Chip: 7:10:42 AM	28:11	54:12	1:31:28		3:10:49	4:29:47	2294	1509	260
Race Pace:	9:05	9:02	9:09		9:33	10:18

Memorable moments

- At about mile two, a lady motioned ahead of me and said “Well, that’s something to see”. It was a “guy” wearing nothing but running shoes and a pair of hot pink daisy dukes. We saw him post-race at during our feed at Baja Fresh. Luckily he had changed, but I wanted to ask him if he had any chafing.

- Watching the blind runner and his guide, working smoothly as a team as she described the neighborhood so he could “see” where he was running. I reminded me of riding through the Hill Country of Texas with a blind rider while the captain on his tandem described the springtime scenery to him. I know he enjoyed the scenery just as much as we did.

Off-topic plug: For those of you looking to put in some serious early-season bike mileage, I cannot recommend Nick Gerlich’s “Texas Hell Week” enough. A non-supported, but highly organized event, you can meet and ride with cyclists from all over the world who are looking to build a significant base by riding 500-800 miles in eight days. You’ll be amazed that you can do it and after the initial saddle pain of the first three days, you’ll be sprinting up hills and flying along the flats on day seven. But if Texas doesn’t fit your schedule, he’s started up several other Hell Week’s that might work for you. It’s been nine years since I’ve taken part, but I have no doubt that it’s still a quality event.

- At about mile four, the leaders went by on the other side of the street. Impressive to see the leaders, who were now about three miles ahead, even though they started only ten minutes before me.

- At about mile 14, we turned and headed up a hill, which was located right in front of a church. Lined up along the hill were several dozen nuns, replete in their habits, cheering on the runners. Lots of hoots, hollers, and high-fives, as well as a water stop advertising cups of holy water. I should’ve grabbed one, since it was just a while later when the stomach started feeling wonky.

- Right at mile 18, we started heading downhill, which gave a great view of the oncoming masses running the half-marathon. We had split at mile 11 and now we were about to meet up again. With about 21,000 in the half-marathon compared to 5,000 in the marathon, there was a huge difference in runner density. Plus, right about this point I saw the helicopter hovering near LP Field, knowing that the elites were finishing up their races. I cursed.

- While Brian had to sing to himself, we had bands scattered all along the course. Some of the music was memorable, some was not. But as Brian would attest to, there’s a point in a run where one must sing the chorus from “Just a Gigolo”. Come on, you know how it goes - “I ain’t got no body“. Brian, you would have enjoyed the band at mile 23, who decided to play the song and I managed to time it to be right in front of the stage just as they got to the chorus. What a boost.

- Immediately following the “Gigolo” chorus, we met with the Hash House Harriers water/beer stop. For the first time in my life, I bypassed the beer table. I was focused.

- Climbing a small hill in mile 25, a guy was in the shade, holding a sign for his wife/girlfriend. It said “Lisa - Run! Dick Cheney’s right behind you!” I asked if Dick had a shotgun.

- Meeting with Goddess and my sister as they finished their half-marathon. After I made it through the chute, turned in my chip and grabbed some food, I called to find them. They still had a couple of miles to go, so I started walking towards them. I found some shade and then had a lot of fun cheering on folks in both the half and full. I walked with Goddess and my sister for a while, then cut the course to meet them at the finish. A bit of loud, obnoxious cheering and then some shame - I started running next to them and yelled “Hey, if I can do this, so can you“. So they ran to the finish line.

- Afterwards, my sister saw an old guy, with cane and race number, sitting off to the side. She went up and talked to him and found out that he is 88 years old and had walked the half-marathon in his walking shoes, slacks, button-up shirt and carrying an old cassette player so he could listen to his Elvis tape while he walked. He cruised, finishing the course in a time that Goddess and my sister were jealous of.

Summary

- Overall, a good race. I rolled into this one injury-free and rested, even though the previous weeks had been pretty hectic and stressful.

- While I’m very pleased with setting a PR with such a large margin, I’m still bugged by the cramping issues that seem to plague me at every long event. But that gives me room for improvement, right?

- Mentally, I made several breakthroughs during this race. One of the most significant was knowing that I could push myself harder through the pain in the closing miles. A lot of that came from running a strong double-long weekend as well as several other long runs these past few months.

All-in-all, a good day.

13.1 mile Train Wreck

Ok, maybe not all 13.1 miles, but a good chunk of them.

This morning was the Tom King 1/2 Marathon in Nashville. As forecast, we got there just in time for the thunderstorms to roll in. At 7am, in a driving rain and occasional clap of thunder, Goddess started her very first 5K, which she smoked with a 39:24!

While she was running, I warmed up under the overhang of LP Field, which is where the Tennessee Titans play. I’m not a football fan, so I won’t insert any comments about whether they play or not. If you do, I’ll shrug, since it doesn’t mean anything to me.

Lots of warming up, lots of stretching, then a run inside the stadium to watch her finish. For both races, the finish line was on the east side 50-yard line, after entering the stadium on the northwest corner and then running the perimeter of the field. Quite a unique finish, with everyone’s sprint displayed on the Jumbotron. Here’s the view, with the final turn before the final 50 yards:

So at 8am we started the 1/2 marathon. A nasty start at that -> 48F, pouring rain and a good flash of lighting right before the gun went off, with the course turning into a 5-10mph wind after the first 1/2 mile. Good stuff! Starting off at a very comfortable 8:18 pace, I was right where I wanted to be, slowly warming up and then picking up the pace for a 1:45 finish, which needed a 8:00 average pace to pull off. That’s a pace I’m comfortable with for 10 miles on training runs, so I knew I’d have to push it a bit to go the full 13.1. But it’s a race, so isn’t that the idea?

I typically take several miles to warm up, often not feeling supple and smooth until the 5-6 mile range. Well, that never happened. For the next 10 miles, my average pace dropped a very even 5 seconds per mile, then I flattened out at a 9:02 average pace for the last 2.1 miles. I just never warmed up.

Before the start, I made the decision not to wear a jacket, since I heat up so quickly. So I was wearing an UnderArmour compression shirt under a long-sleeve technical running shirt. That wasn’t a bad decision, since I was pushing the arms up after mile 9 and was quite warm above the waist. Below the waist was where the train wreck occurred.

Down there I was wearing UnderArmour compression shorts under a pair of Nike running shorts. The quads were half-covered, but apparently not enough. I chose not to wear tights since I do heat up so quick; plus I didn’t want to deal with them soaking up water and making my legs heavier than my soaked shoes and socks (layered Injinji and Thorlo) would be.

For the first 8 miles, I wasn’t uncomfortable, but the legs were giving what they could (cue Scotty - “I’m giving it all I can, Captain”). At 8.1 miles, the fun began. The knee pain that cut short my run last Sunday reappeared. Luckily it wasn’t the stabbing pain that it was on Sunday, just an ache. Something to keep an eye on, so I pressed forward. Another mile or so down the path and I could feel both of my hamstrings start to tighten. Again, nothing significant, just something to keep an eye on. During these miles, my average pace was only dropping about 2 seconds/mile, so it wasn’t any significant discomfort.

As soon as the ache went away in my right knee, my left ITB started tightening up, which pulled on my left glute and made for a fun couple of strides. As fast as it appeared, it disappeared. And that’s when the right ITB pulled the same stunt. I tell you, I had a stinkin’ Rolodex of pains going on. The legs just spun the wheel and pulled whatever card showed. Fargin’ Bastages!

Like I said earlier, the goal was 1:45. Well, that slipped away. So I then hoped for a PR of faster than 1:49:38, which I set last October. That slipped away, so then I hoped to beat my January time of 1:55:46. Well, that slipped away, too. So then it was all out to come in under 2 hours. The trick was that I wasn’t sure what my time was. My Garmin turned off for about three-tenths of a mile between 9.5 and 10 miles, probably when I was pushing my sleeves up.

I snuck it in at 1:59:44. 60 of 91 in my A/G; 480 of 939 O/A. Here’s Goddess’ capture of me just yards out of the finish chute:

Afterwards I told Goddess that I was going to change my tagline of “Races are a celebration of me being fit” to “Races are proof I’m too stupid to give up“. Quite a bit of frustration there, especially since I’ve been very diligent about stretching, especially my glutes, on a daily basis. But as the day wore on, my normal over-analysis of every run made me realize that I just never warmed up during the race, even though I did a warm up and headed out at a good clip.

The Good -

- My Injinji. After first wearing them at my marathon last month and coming out completely unscathed, meaning absolutely no blisters at all, I bought another pair. Since my foot moved around so much during the marathon, I used the Injinji as a liner inside my Thorlos. Even with completely soaked feet, not so much as a hint of a blister today. Those socks ROCK!

- The fine gentlemen at the turn around point @ 6.21 miles. Runner’s choice of Michelob Ultra or Amber Bock. The bock for me, thank you. And since it was just an ounce or so, it didn’t impact my run. But it sure tasted good, even though it wasn’t even 9am yet.

The Bad -

Did you not just read my post above?

The Ugly -

- Not a single thing. Even the weather really wasn’t that bad. I don’t mind running in a driving rain. I just wish I had warmed up.

I’ll keep stretching and rolling and hopefully I’ll loosen up for the Country Music Marathon next month.  But I’m not betting on it.

Looking forward to tomorrow.  I’ll spend a few hours casting Wooly Buggers in front of a few browns and rainbows.  I may even catch one.

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.

Gluteus Minimus FTW

Well, it seems the trigger point that I “discovered” last weekend did the trick.  I’m not 100%, but I was able to make it the whole 26.2 without any pain.  A fair bit of discomfort in that area, but no pain.

Bottom line:  I finished.  5:57:14 on a flat course (!!!!).  There was some good, not much bad and a whole lotta ugly.

Race report to follow once we get back home later this week.

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.

That’s it, I’m taking up chess…

OMFG that hurt. No, seriously, that F’ing hurt!

No, seriously.

But that’s what lets us know that we’re alive, right?

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, look at the elevation profile for the marathon here.

Total time - 5:25:54. Not too shabby, especially when you look at the course. That and the fact that it’s my first marathon. Ever. 1/2 Marathon time - 2:15:30. How’s that for a positive split? I’ll let you do the math.

To make a long story even longer, it started on the drive this morning. We timed it well to get to site 15 minutes before the start. The fog was pretty dense in spots on the drive into Nashville, which slowed us down a bit. Then about 1 mile from the start, a beautiful 8-point buck decided he needed to be on the other side of the road, which put him right in front of us. How do I know he was 8-points? I can still see him in mid-flight right off the nose of the car. I don’t remember anything else, but Goddess tells me I gave a quick tap on the brakes, which was apparently just enough to let him slip by.

The starting speech was quite comical. With a name like the Flying Monkey Marathon, what else can it be? With instructions on how to deal with the flying monkeys and an admonition to not rush, since the keg wouldn’t be tapped until noon, which meant we should all shoot for a 4:59 finish to get there just in time.

Started off slow and easy. Maintained a 9:30 pace through the first few miles. Not surprising, considering my lack of running over the past two weeks, miles 3-5 were pretty miserable. My legs were not waking up. The 150 foot climb and the 200 foot descent in the first 3 miles didn’t help them feel any better. I got into my groove by about mile 7 and cruised through the next 10 miles, hitting the 1/2 mark at 2:15:30, which averaged 10:20 over the distance. I wasn’t out here to break any records, just hang on to the finish.

Mile 17 was the start of some ugly times. As you can see on the profile, that mile was a 200 foot drop, which led up to the ugliest hill of the course through miles 18-20, which saw 300 feet of climbing. This put the hurt on. Up until now, the only time I walked was through the aid stations (I’m quite pleased with that). Throughout this climb, I adopted a racewalk strategy, which worked out to be faster than I was able to run up that hill.

By the time I hit 20.1 miles, it was all downhill from there (except for the uphills). The elevation drop was 215 feet over the next six miles, with some short but not-so-sweet uphills. Problem was, the legs were deep in the hurt-locker even going downhill. So it was a walk-run strategy for a while. But I got it done. Average pace for the last 13.1 miles - 14:34. Average pace for the whole 26.2 - 12:26.

Man, I’ve got to try a flat race.

The Yazoo beer served at the finish line was loverly! Huge props to Trent, the race director (who also ran in the race) for working a deal with them. The scenery was gorgeous the entire time. Luckily, the severe thunderstorms that blew through on Wednesday didn’t strip all of the trees. With my slower second half, I saw a thousand and one photos I would have loved to have taken.

A friend of mine flew in from D.C. to run this race. It was his eleventh this year, including Antarctica and The Lewis and Clark Bozeman marathons. After driving him over the course yesterday, he was hoping for a 4:30 finish. He ran his fifth fastest marathon ever, coming in right at 3:30! Now he’s curious what he would have done had it been a flat course.

Times aren’t up on the website yet, but I thinkthe first place guy finished in the 2:45 range. He blew past me heading back in just as I was approaching the 10-mile point. He was already 6 miles ahead of me. Quite humbling.

If you’re looking for a late-season marathon, I absolutely cannot endorse the Flying Monkey enough. Small, low-key and not to be taken seriously (except for the course). Today was only its second running, but already had folks fly in from Alberta, Seattle, D.C. and even Italy! It’s an extremely well-run event, with some schweet swag (including a personalized long-sleeve Patagonia technical running shirt - in addition to the standard cotton race T-shirt!) and some good times with your fellow runners.

I hope to be there next year.

But first, I gotta relearn chess.

Fast Training Run

Part of my prep for my marathon, which is in two weeks time, was a 1/2 marathon today. It fulfilled three purposes, to make sure my recovery from my IM attempt was complete, my run focused training was on target and that I could hold a sustained pace faster than I normally do during training runs or during a 1/2 IM or IM. All three were achieved.

The Team Nashville Half Marathon was definitely a well executed event. It’s been a while since I had attended one of those (yep, that’s a swipe at my recent races).

I was talking with a co-worker of mine on Wednesday. He had mentioned a few months back that he’d like to pace me during the marathon leg of my IM-distance race, but already had long-standing reservations for a family vacation. He asked when I would run my marathon, so I told him. He recognized that it would be too far for him, so he stated “well, I’ll run with you during a half marathon”. I responded “Good, it’s this Saturday”. His jaw dropped and he stammered about having things to do.

Thursday rolls around and he starts asking about it, then says he’ll let me know. Friday night, he calls the house and arranges to meet. All the while, I keep asking him if he’s sure, since the furthest he’s ever run has been a 10K. He was sure. I didn’t worry about him too much since he has quite an extensive physical background, so he had a solid base fitness.

Anyway, we get to the race area this morning, which starts at the Historic Mansker’s Station. Quite an interesting location. Sign up, get our goodies and then keep moving to stay warm, since it was 33 degrees. The crunch of frost underfoot was quite loud.

This was a “C” race for me, with no time goals. So when we filtered down to the start area, we hung out in the back. The gun went off and we strolled towards the line. We started jogging slowly to make sure our chips registered and we were off. All 190 other racers had crossed the line in front of us. We were bringing up the rear.

It didn’t take long for us to start weaving through the crowd. We were jogging comfortably and hit the mile at 8:38. My co-worker mentioned that it was quite an ambitious pace. We crossed the second mile 8:26 later. He started slipping back a bit and I wordlessly kept moving forward.

Miles 3-5 were pretty uneventful. I was still warming up. By mile 5 I started feeling good and the miles kept slipping by, as did fellow runners. I was starting to think of a race strategy. I figured I’d start picking it up at mile 8 and see how it went from there. I got to the mile 8 water table, grabbed some water (no, not my first) and proceeded to look straight up a wall. Several folks ahead of me were walking. It was a killer.

Going down the other side was just as steep, but I went loose and managed to pass several more runners. The next three miles were a very gradual downhill and I was able to pick up the pace again, cruising at a very nice tempo. After mile 12, we started into the hills again, cruising through a nice subdivision. After 12.75 miles, it was all downhill all the way to the finish.

I cruised in at 1:49:38 chip time, my watch said 1:41:15. I still can’t figure out where the disparity is in my watch, since the times flow perfectly. No one else seemed concerned about their published time, so I won’t be either; it’s time the watch be sent in for some other issues too.

I crossed the start line in 191st (or 192nd, doesn’t matter); I crossed the finish line in 75th overall, 10/18 in my age group. So that’s 116 passed on the course.

13.1 miles @ 8:23 average. Not too shabby. It won’t win any awards, but I sure enjoyed it.

My co-worker ran a hell of a race, considering he’d never run further than a 10K - 2:05:38, which was 4:22 faster than his goal of 2:10, or 10-minute mile pace.

So while I’m pleased with my results, I was shocked to read the news of today’s US Marathon trials. Excellent results for Ryan Hall, but a crushing tragedy for everyone. Keep Ryan Shay’s family and friends in your thoughts and prayers.

Well, it’s time for another recovery beer. And good tunes while watching Wilco on Austin City Limits.

Lake Barkley 140.6

Alright. Where to begin.

A lot of weird issues led to my DNF. That’s part of racing. But right now they still don’t make sense. But we’ll get to those.

The beauty of this race venue is that it was right now the street (40 min drive), so I could sleep in my own bed each night. We got out there Friday night for packet pickup and the pre-race brief, had dinner and got back for an early bedtime. Woke up at 2:30, wide awake and ready to go. My alarm wasn’t set for another hour.

Good pre-race breakfast, taking in about 900 calories, so fueling wasn’t an issue from the start. Then we loaded up the bike and drove out.

It was a small race. They were running a 1/2 IM-distance and full-distance race simultaneously and had about 80 racers total (60 in the 1/2, 20 in the full). A nice small field. After a quick briefing, we were herded into the water, which was a comfortable 80 degrees. With a 20-second countdown, we were off.

Swim

All-in-all, a good swim. Right on target.

The course was an out-and-back, curving slightly to the left. Basically the same line that I swam last Monday when I wanted to get a feel for the lake temperature. With such a small field, contact was minimal. I found feet quickly, then realized that they might be attached to someone who’s doing the 1/2. So I found clean water and stayed that way the rest of the course. Finishing the first lap, I turn to see several swimmers on the wrong side of the buoy, apparently swimming the 1/2 and wanting to take the shortest line from the third or fourth buoy to the beach. I had more contact there, in head-on situations, than anywhere else. Total swim time: 1:14:38. I had set myself up for a good day.

T1 - About 6:15, changing into my cycling gear and getting out to the bike.

Bike

I’ve talked about the bike route before. I knew what to expect and kept things easy. With the first 2 miles climbing several hundred feet, I dropped it into my granny gear and just looked at the folks attacking the hill. Everything went well on the first loop. I pretty much ignored my HRM and kept my PE in the 2-3 range over the rolling hills. I’d glance at the HRM every once in a while and confirmed that I was doing just fine. Fueling was going as planned, with my HEED, Perpeteum, Endurolytes and water. At mile 55, I stood to make the left turn into the park and approach the turnaround. My quads cramped. I couldn’t figure that out, since I’d been drinking the HEED and taking the Endurolytes right on schedule. So I went straight into a OODA Loop and decided that I needed more electrolytes, so I popped a few more pills, then again 30 minutes later. By mile 70, all was good and I was back to normal and at mile 75 I was surging.

The turnaround at the far end of the second loop was at the 85 mile point. My Goddess and son were out there giving encouragement. All was good. I started back and they passed by (it was an open course). At mile 90, all of the sudden everything in my gut wanted to come up. No warning at all, no other signs of GI issues up to that point. It was as if someone turned on a switch. I took a few deep breaths, relaxed and slowed down. I kept the intensity real low for the next 10 miles, into the next break station. I got off the bike for a few minutes, drank more water and stretched. I then hopped on the bike and everything felt fine again, so I got back to it.

Flying down the descent toward the lake, the strap holding my Aerobottle popped loose, so I almost lost the bottle. Nothing like flying down the hill, in the aero position, at 35mph in traffic, holding on to a bottle so it doesn’t fly loose. I could finally pull off to the side and get it fixed, but I had lost all the momentum from the hill. Making it over the bridge and turning into the park was uneventful. But the final climb at mile 53.5 is brutal, running about 12% for 1/2 mile. I ended up walking it, since my quads had started cramping again. I could not figure out what was going on. Total bike time: 7:4030 with 7,158 feet of climbing.

T2 - About 8:15. Changing from my bike to running gear was interesting. As I peeled my shorts off, my left calf cramped to the point I couldn’t move. I finally relaxed and I could get changed. But that was going to haunt me the rest of the day. By the time I got out on the run, the race clock had just switched over to 9:10. I was doing good, considering the difficulties.

Run

I’ll use that header very loosely.

Having run the loop a few times before, I knew I was going to walk the steep uphill for the first mile. And my body was going to make sure of that. My left calf was still cramping, but I could move on it. Even my son, who was behind me, commented on how he could see how cramped it was, just by looking at it. I was still in very good spirits, announcing I was going to finish even if it took me 8 hours to complete the course (there’s no time cutoff for this race). I made my way up the hill, taking drinks and grabbing bananas when I could. My Goddess had driven ahead and parked the car, walking back to meet me so we could walk together for a bit. That bit turned out to be the next 10 miles.

Every time I’d start to run, the calf would tighten up to the point I couldn’t run. Even on the downhills. It did loosen just a bit over time, but remained cramped throughout the night, even though I was inhaling the Endurolytes whenever I had a chance.

At about mile 4, everything got dark. Sure, it was approaching sunset, but it was me. My Goddess walked alongside, talking about the beautiful scenery. I could only muster a grunt. Before it got to this point, I told her that even if I collapse, as long as I can get up and keep going, I’m going to. She agreed, just as long as I could get going again under my own power. What a trooper! By about mile 6, I had snapped out of it and was starting to feel real good. I didn’t have my legs yet, but I could pick up the pace.

To give you an idea of how hilly the run course was, one racer headed the other way on a loop mentioned how he’d kill to have 100 yards of level ground. There were only two level spots on the entire route: the transition area and one of the turnarounds, which was a parking lot for the marina. Otherwise, it was continuous rolling with some pretty steep sections. This is definitely a challenging course. The picture to the left is the profile for the part of the run I completed. In that 15 miles, I climbed 1,950 feet! To say that it’s hilly is an understatement.

At mile 10, I was feeling really good and we had come up to the break station where my Goddess had parked the car and left the boy. So I bid farewell and headed out on the second loop. I felt good enough to get the shuffle going, stopping only to feed and hydrate in the next two miles. But the gut was not cooperating with the jostling. I couldn’t find anything that I could stomach that worked, so I was relegated to walking again.

It was a beautiful night. Out in the forest, I turned off the headlamp and enjoyed the view, even spying a shooting star. The moon was bright enough that I could see the road. It was much nicer to move without the light, since my field of vision wasn’t limited to the circle ten feet in front of me.

Heading back to the break station at the end of the second loop, it all came crashing down. I was lucky to shuffle. That at the realization that I had been out on the “run” for five hours and I was only about halfway done. I started doing the math and thought about the fairness of keeping my family out there until 2 or 3 in the morning while I slogged along; about how much more damage I was going to do to my body if I continued; about how my One Thing was to finish, but it wasn’t my everything. So I broke the news to my Goddess.

She did a wonderful job of talking to me, making sure that I was doing what I wanted. She tried to fuel and hydrate me and get me on my way. But once she realized that I was serious, she was extremely supportive. That’s why she’s my Goddess.

Driving back down to the transition, I handed my chip in just as the clock rolled over 14:10. At one point at the beginning of the run, I figured that would be the approximate time I’d see on the clock. Just not this way.

Rollup

Despite all of the difficulties and the outcome, it was an amazing experience. I will do another, although it’ll be a flatter one, I suspect. I still have to figure out what caused the cramping so early in the ride, which I think started the dominoes falling. I will rest and recover over the coming weeks, then ramp up for a marathon in November. Then I’ll relax over the holidays and jump right into it again.

Are you ready, my Goddess?

DNF

Details later.