60 and 60

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

I mean seriously stopped dead.

Physically?

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

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

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

That’s what I get for thinking.

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

And they picked up.

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

At least it was 60 degrees.

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

I couldn’t help but laugh.

Because it’s good to be alive.

Photo by Kelley Mari

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

Giddy Up

Tomorrow, January 26th, is our greyhound Skinny’s “Gotcha Day”.  Although we recognize his birthday, his “gotcha day” is more important to all of us, since it’s the day that we adopted him.

He’s been a great addition to the family.

Yesterday we got a phone call out of the blue.  The Nashville chapter of the Greyhound Pets of America needed help with the latest batch of hounds rescued from the track.  They had one last pup staying in the kennel, finishing up his two-week veterinarian stay.  Of course we agreed.

So after a quick visit to REI to take advantage of their January clearance sale (lots of good cycling gear to be had), we headed over to pick him up.

We’re now foster parents.

Everyone, meet JJ Giddy Up, aka Giddy:

That’s Skinny in the cow PJ’s.  We don’t have any PJ’s for Giddy, so he’s nekkid.

He’s quite a change from Skinny.  When we got Skinny, he had been off the track for almost a year, had been vetted, fostered, adopted, returned, fostered and then finally to us.  That’s a lot of time to have been acclimated to houses, people and given some basic training.  Not so for Giddy, who other than the two week vet visit, is straight off the track.  The track where he met with modest success over his career of 49 races.

Giddy had never experienced a TV, a mirror or a ceiling fan.  Still full of energy, he’s been interesting to watch explore.  Skinny, on the other hand, lifts his head once in a while to see what the interloper is doing, but otherwise is quite nonchalant about the whole situation.

So Goddess and I (mostly Goddess) have been working to get him to understand basic commands (“Wait”, “No”, “Here”).  As they all are, greyhounds are very intelligent and he’s catching on quite quickly.  The one thing that he’s a bit slower to pick up on is that he thinks that he can assert himself over Skinny.  Again, Skinny’s pretty blasé about it all.  And we also make sure that Giddy understands where his place is in the pack.  He’ll get there pretty quick.

We’ve decided to foster since we’re curious about adopting a second grey.  That doesn’t mean that Giddy will be our second, although that’s an option.  Fostering helps us gauge how Skinny will do (he’s doing just fine so far), plus it’s our chance to help out.  Over the coming weekends Giddy will be made available to people interested in adopting a greyhound.  It’s our responsibility (and pleasure) to take care of him as well as train him during this transition from track to home.

And Skinny will have a friend tomorrow when we has his “Gotcha Day” Frosty Paws treat, which is made of yogurt, honey and other goodies.

Oh, and no one comment on my ugly-ass avocado green ’70s reject chair.  Someone gave it to us 7 or 8 years ago and it is soooooo comfortable.  Goddess has tried to cover it a couple of times, but it’s just not the same.  So the monstrosity sits in the living room, an eyesore to all who see it.  But it fits me perfectly and I lurve it.

Plus, it’s low enough to the ground that I can reach over right now and run my hand along Skinny’s side as he sleeps.

New Wheels

We’ve got a new addition to the stable.  New wheels.

Not mine, but Goddess’.

We’d been talking about getting her new wheels for a while.  For the past five years, she’s been riding a very heavy Raleigh hybrid that we bought her in Japan.  She’s enjoyed it, but found it to be too cumbersome for much more than tooling around town.

We’ve stopped by the local bike shops a few times to see what they had in stock.  Depending on the visit, either the bikes weren’t right or the salesman wasn’t.

Yesterday both came together.  A very good bike and an excellent salesman who really took the time to make sure things were right.  All said and done, we were in the shop for over two and a half hours.  We’ve bought brand new cars faster than that.

Once we spied what we liked, a 2009 Specialized Dolce Elite Triple, we talked to the salesman.  He said that she needed to be fitted, so I was quite curious to see what he did.  He grabbed the bike, took it over to the trainers and started installing it, saying we needed to see her sitting on it and riding it before we could decide on a size.  I told him that was a good thing, because if he said that she just needed to stand over the bike, we were walking.

Over the next couple of hours, we had developed quiet a rapport as he adjusted this, tweaked that, swapped bikes for a larger frame, tweaked some more, went back to the original frame, flipped stems and did whatever he could to make sure the fit was right.  It was quite a challenge, because at 5′2″, Goddess is pretty tiny, so we were right on the threshold of having to go with a 650c frame.  Not only did they not have any in stock, but I didn’t want to go that route anyway, since it can be troublesome finding tubes and tires for a 650c.

So here’s her new steed:

I was giving her a hard time, telling her that her bike was more advanced than my 2002 Softride.  Well, seven years of advances will do that.

Her bike has carbon fiber seat stays and fork.  Both have elastomer inserts called “Zertz”, which are purported to soften road vibration even more than the carbon fiber already does.  It’ll be interesting to see what Goddess thinks.

Once we got it home, we were pleasantly surprised to find that we got it for a fair bit less than the MSRP.  Plus, I cannot find any source, including Specialized’s web site, that shows the paint job that she got with all of the pink highlights.  So we had to go with the pink bottle cages, natch.

We’re looking forward to Goddess tearing up the roads.

Once it warms up.

But for now, she’s got the trainer set up and ready to go.

And that gives me time to work on pedals, etc., for her.

Phewwww!!!!

It’s been a crazy couple of weeks with work.  Lots of late nights hacking on stuff here at home to meet some tight deadlines.  But I just completed the last of the project and it’s time to exhale.

But the beauty is that the workload didn’t impact the running at all.  I’m close enough to work that I can run for my commute and get at least a 4.75 mile run in.  Longer if I get creative.

Wednesday we had a PT test.  Part of it is a 1.5 mile run.  I was curious to see where I was, considering I really didn’t run much during November and December.  A comfortable pace got me across the line in 10:15, so I’m right where I was last March for that test, but without the base period that I had last year.  Perhaps that’s a good indication of things to come.

Friday morning we did a 6-mile ruck march.  It was a beautiful morning for it, with temps in the mid-20’s.  Cool enough that the beads of sweat froze on caps.  The pace was nice and easy, averaging 15-minute miles.  But for grins, we pushed it a few times, taking advantage of the downhills and getting down to a 8:30-pace.  Nothing too fast, but when you’ve got 35+ pounds on your back, it takes on a whole new meaning.  A few minor blisters were the result, but nothing I couldn’t live without, especially after I got dry socks and a fresh pair of boots on the feet.

Saturday’s 7-miler was nice and relaxing.  We had a cold front push through during the morning, so the afternoon temps were a pleasant 37F, although the 20mph winds left a bit to be desired.  Especially when the last mile of my runs are facing north, right into the wind.  Brrrrr.  The only significant blister from Friday’s ruck march, which was on my left pinkie toe, broke during this run.  No big deal.

Today’s run was the longest of the week.  Scheduled for 90-minutes.  So depending on how I felt, it could be anywhere from 8-10 miles.  So I just went with the feel.  I had the odd heart rate issues that I saw last year, where I was just moving along at a comfortable pace for the opening miles but my heart rate jacked through the roof, pushing north of 180 bpm; Zone 5 for me starts at 157 bpm.  But I was never out of breath or feeling like I was pushing any effort.  But after a mile or so of this, the HR settled down into the mid-130’s, right where it should be.  No other odd issues like that the rest of the run.  Strong and comfortable the entire distance, hitting the 45-minute point at 5.1 miles.  I didn’t think about pushing it on the way back.  At least, not until the last mile.  Crossed the “finish line” at 1:27:56, so I negative split the 10.2 mile run.  Very nice.

Finally, eagle-eyed readers may notice a new page on the blog.  Unfortunately, it didn’t work out the way I wanted to, but if you go there, you’ll find a link to a new blog that we just started. Over the past few weeks, Goddess and I have been dabbling in several different red wines.  We discussed keeping track of the ones that we’ve had so that we know what we’ve enjoyed (and those we haven’t).  She started writing them down in a book.  So during today’s long run, I had a brilliant idea – blog about it so we can access it from anywhere.  So when I pitched the idea to Goddess, she was enthusiastic.  Especially after she reminded me that she mentioned the same thing to me a couple of days ago.  Man, I’m brilliant!  So if you’re interested, stop by, have a look, ask questions and leave recommendations.

I hope this week is a good one for you!

That’s It, I’m Taking Up Chess – Part Deux

For part one, read here.

And I’ll reiterate -

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

No, seriously.

Instead of the link, here’s the actual course profile:

That’s a profile for a saw, not a stinkin’ marathon.  At least not one that anyone with a lick of sense would run.  But there were 200 that signed up, which is the race cap. And many of us were repeats, so we really had no excuse.  As Trent, the race director exclaimed at the start – “Hello Idiots!”

The horn went off at 8am sharp.  And started immediately uphill, although this grassy field was a gentle rise.  After that, it kept going up.  In the first few miles, a small sign notified us that we had climbed 300 feet already and that we had 3200 feet to go.  Trent’s always looking for ways to encourage the runners.

I won’t bore you with mile-by-mile details, since it was a matter of going uphill, going downhill, going uphill, going uphill some more, then going downhill.  Followed by an uphill.  There really aren’t any consistently level sections of the course.  It’s always up or down, just some sections more up or down than others.

I really didn’t have any goals for this race.  All year it had been scheduled as an “A” race, but my glute issues of the past month, coupled with some long, long days preparing for my replacement as well as training him, then travel from Iraq, all while suffering from the “Iraqi crud” meant that Friday’s 5-miler was the only run I had in the past five weeks.  No excuses, just reality.

And the glute issues were my own fault.  While preparing for the hills of this race, I pushed myself too hard on the treadmill.  I’d warm up and then start out at a 8:00/mile pace.  After a few minutes of that, I’d start ratcheting up the elevation, getting up towards 8 degrees while maintaining the same pace.  After a long summer of long flat runs, the glutes just weren’t ready for that effort.  So they spasmed on me and remained knotted, no matter what I did to try and release them.  And the tension from those knots pulled hard on my calves, which made it very, very difficult to run without significantly changing my running form, which would do nothing but lead to more significant injuries.

Anyway, back to the race.

Up, down, up, down, up, down.  The miles ticked by, some faster than others.  And another word of encouragement by Trent appeared at mile 18 – “The winner is already finished”.  The sad part was that it was true.  And when I passed it, they had been finished for at least 20 minutes.

One thing I did not do this marathon was stick to a Galloway run/walk plan.  I wanted to see if my fitness from a year of run-focus had improved.  I didn’t walk, other that the water stations, until about mile 17, and that was by design.  One advantage I had by running this race last year was knowing which hills were worth attacking and which ones were better walked.  I found quite a few times last year that I could walk certain hills faster than I was “running” up them.  By mile 23, pretty much all of the uphills became walkers.  But one huge difference between last year and this year was that the downhills after mile 20 did not become absolute agony from all of the pounding.

The quads started cramping mildly around mile 21.  Nothing unbearable, but still painful.  It was a “low-grade” cramp, meaning I could work through it just fine, but it was there continually to remind me that I shouldn’t push my luck too much.  About midway through mile 23, my left hamstring immediately made itself known.  A quick cramp that had me pull up real quick and yell out “BULL$h!+”.  I was too close to the finish to be bothered with this.  A quick stretching walk and it didn’t reveal itself the rest of the race.

The last miles went by quickly.  One guy was a hundred yards or so ahead of me and I could hear persistent footfall behind me.  But I wouldn’t let anyone catch me and I caught the guy ahead of me with about 50 yards to go to the finish line.

The numbers:

2008 time – 4:25:39 (waiting for web site verification); 2007 time – 5:25:54.  That’s right, a 1:00:15 PR for the course.

2008 time – 4:25:39; 2008 Country Music Marathon time – 4:29:47.  That means that this was a 4:08 PR for the distance!  WHOO HOOO!  Not too shabby for not having run in five weeks.

And as a point of comparison, here are the two race profiles:

Monkey -

Country Music Marathon -

Makes me curious to know was time I would have pulled off had the course been flatter.  But no matter what PR I set in the future, I’ll likely be most proud of this one, given the course profile.

I started thinking PR at the halfway point.  I hit 13.1 at 2:08, compared to last year’s 2:15.  I didn’t think about it too much at that point since I still had a long way to go.  But I kept ticking away the miles and doing the math.  A PR was mine to lose.  The difficult thing was evaluating how close I’d be, since I somehow managed to turn off my Garmin for about 1/4 mile during mile 17.  During the race I was thinking it was turned off for closer to 1/2 mile, so I estimated a five-minute difference between my watch time and the course time.  So watching the clock, evaluating my condition and dancing on the fine edge of having my legs completely cramp up, I ran.

The proof was in the pudding.

It’s a good thing I don’t have to go to work tomorrow.  I don’t think I’m going to be able to get out of bed.

And other than a possible 5K with Goddess, that’s the end of the 2008 racing season.

Disenfranchised Military Voter – A Rant

Having served in this country’s military for almost 22 years now, I am a firm believer in the rights and responsibilities of the American citizen.  Of utmost importance is exercising the right to vote.

But thanks to an inefficient registrar in a state that shall remain nameless, because it really doesn’t matter, I have been deprived of my right to vote.  Even though I sent my absentee voting registration back in July, it wasn’t entered into the system until late-September and my ballot was not mailed until October 9th (the recommended deadline for us in Iraq to mail in our absentee ballot is October 7th).  It is now October 28th and I’ve just received my ballot.  The election is now seven days away.  Does anyone think my vote will count?

So as I sit here in Iraq, fighting to ensure that the Iraqi people have many of the same opportunities that you and I take for granted, I cannot exercise my most basic freedom.

I don’t care what your views are on being here in Iraq.  You might be surprised to find out that we share many of the same views.  But I also have a viewpoint that you will never get in the media.  I know that these people are getting the opportunity to truly let their voices be heard.  And they will turn out in droves to exercise that freedom.  Will you?

I don’t care who you vote for on November 4th.  I have my opinions and you have yours.  I won’t tell you mine and I don’t care to hear yours.  Make them heard with your ballot.  I don’t have that opportunity.

I don’t care if it’s hot, cold, rainy, snowy, windy or you’ve had a long day at work.  HTFU (definition 1).  Take the 15-minutes to drive over to your voting place and put your marks on paper.  I don’t have that opportunity.

I don’t care if you are undecided.  You’ve now got a week to educate yourself, form an opinion and become decided.  Turn off the insipid TV shows and get to reading.  And don’t do it by reading web sites from any of the major news networks, blowhards and especially not blogs.  Read the candidate’s website; read between the lines.  Read the viewpoints of those with a dissenting opinion.  Don’t fall prey to charisma; it won’t put food on your table or protect your family.  Read, read, read, read read.  Luckily I can do that.  And I’m in a war zone.  What’s your excuse?

I don’t care if you think that one candidate or another shouldn’t be elected based solely on the color of their skin or what dangles (or not) between their legs. You’re clearly ignorant and are incapable of intelligent conversation.

And I don’t care if I made you uncomfortable with this post. Just get off your ass and vote. I can’t.

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.

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.

“That’s it. You can’t race anymore!”

Not my words. That phrase came out of Goddess’ mouth this afternoon. I’ll explain later.

This weekend I ran a marathon. Not a race, but a marathon.

Training.

It came about in an interesting way. Following my training plan, I had my standard 20-miler scheduled for Saturday. You know, the same 20-miler that’s in every marathon training plan. Yeah, that one. No worries, but it was a matter of scheduling.

Everything was piling up towards this weekend: two mid-terms due, the 20-miler, volunteer hours for the Greyhound Rescue and multiple jobs for both work and home. There just wasn’t a good fit for a 20-miler. At least, not without getting up at 4am and running in the dark.

So I ran across a very good blog entry by Gary Ditsch that reminded me of some viewpoints on the 20-miler. Specifically, don’t do them.

Now, there are many arguments on both sides of the fence for and against the 20-miler. And there’s certainly a time and place for them, but not in a typical training plan. At least for me.

I don’t know about you, but a run that long wipes me out for quite a few days. The quality of my runs in the following week are marginal, at best. And that’s assuming that I do them. Some days I’m just knackered and don’t feel like getting out there. That’s tough on the psyche to see the red flag on workouts I’ve skipped.

After my normally scheduled Saturday long run, I take my standard rest day on Sunday. That was something that I stuck with all last year through the IM training – keep a weekend day open for family and relaxation. I’ve continued that this year with the run-focused training. Unfortunately I often feel my legs slowly stiffen up through the day, which makes for a painful Monday morning run.

I think I found a solution to part of the problem, which I worked through last weekend’s 16-miler. Following Jeff Galloway’s plan of run/walk, I felt pretty fresh in the days following the run. Sure, my legs were tired, but I wasn’t stiff and sore. By Tuesday my legs felt recovered and I was quite comfortable through a 6-mile cruise interval workout.

So what does that have to do with this weekend and the title of this entry? Quite a bit.

After reading Gary’s blog and recalling several articles along the same lines, I looked at employing the Double Long strategy this weekend, which I could fit into my schedule. Much easier than a 20-miler. But instead of doing simple math, I decided that I’d do a 15-miler on Saturday before our Greyhound Rescue commitment, then a 10-miler Sunday morning. That adds up to more than 20 miles (at least by my calculations, but math in public is not my strong suit).

Saturday was a beautiful day to run – 42 degrees, a bit of wind and cloudy. I employed the same run/walk strategy as last week – 4 minutes running, 30 seconds walking. The walk breaks do a great job of making me stay focused on hydration and fueling. Plus, by keeping an eye on the Garmin, I was able to quickly catch the two times that it decided to turn off by itself.

And I felt good. Real good. Running the same course as last weekend’s 16-miler, I covered the distance in 2:26:50, which averages out to 9:47 miles. Certainly not anything that will get me on the Olympic Team (right, Karl?), but better than last weekend’s average of 10:19 miles. I was even able to push the last half-mile at 8:05 pace while knowing I still had more in the tank. Here’s my accumulated pace:

For the increases in accumulated pace (Miles 4, 9, 11 and 14), there are long, gradual climbs. Miles 11 and 14 are the same hill, which is a wall at the bottom, followed by a steady climb for 200-300 yards, then leveling off. Mile 3 is a nice flat section where I finally start warming up, so I’m usually much quicker through that stretch.

During the run, I realized that my weekend plan would have me running 25 miles (see, I’m real quick with that math in public). Well, that’s only 1.2 miles short of a marathon, so that means I needed to extend my Sunday run to be 11.2 miles. Why? Just because. Well, not just because, because “just because” equates to junk miles. There was actually a purpose. Mentally and physically.

Within two hours of finishing the run, we were standing on concrete for three hours introducing folks to the joys of greyhounds. We had seven hounds in attendance and they were everywhere. Since they grow up in very close quarters, they are very comfortable with other hounds. As soon as we went through the front door of the store, Skinny caught sight of the others and about pulled my arm off so he could get to sniffing butts.

Standing on the concrete didn’t do much for recovery, so my glutes tightened up a bit. Nothing horrible, but I was definitely ready to go when we were done. Even Skinny had enough and curled up in the one crate that was set out; too much standing for him, especially since he’s used to lying around the house for 20 hours a day.

I woke up this morning, just a touch tired in the legs, but no soreness. I’m really starting to see the benefits of a run/walk strategy.

Another beautiful day – low 50’s, a bit of a breeze, overcast. But humid. Plenty of moisture as a precursor to the rain we were to get this afternoon.

I figured that the first mile or two were going to be pretty slow as I found the pain in my legs. No such thing happened. Right out the gate I was pulling very comfortable 9:30-ish miles. Even through the hills. Heading out to the turnaround, I had a tail wind, which isn’t all that great, since I end up heating up too much. As I approached the turnaround, I wanted to wait until my scheduled walk (today I was employing a 5-minute run/30 second walk strategy), so I ended up turning around at 5.78 miles, guaranteeing that I’d be over 11.2 miles for the run.

Coming back, I had a good 5 mph head wind. It was beautiful, since it really cooled me down. Double layered up top with a technical long-sleeve shirt and an Under Armor compression shirt, the breeze really helped with the evaporational cooling. Ahhhh, sweet relief.

How did it go? Awesome. Negative split, even with the headwind on the return leg. 11.53 miles in 1:47:38, which works out to a 9:20 average pace, 27-seconds per mile faster than yesterday. Here’s the accumulated pace:

Mile 2 is a long uphill. Since it’s climbing out of a deep ravine, the return leg was mile 11. I was cruising at that point and didn’t lose any time. Mile 4 was a very convenient porta-potty stop. So even with the headwind, my average pace dropped from 9:35 for mile 6 to 9:20 overall by mile 11.5.

And same as yesterday, I was able to crank it up for the finish, starting about a mile out. Not a sprint, but a strong, steady effort. The last half mile’s split pace was 8:12 average, but my Garmin tells me that I was down to 7:04 for a stretch there. HR was in Zone 5 for the last 1.1 miles and it all felt good; I still felt like I could have given a bit more if I needed to (e.g. if this was a race).

And that’s how I got the title of this entry. Goddess asked how the run was and of course I was quite pleased. That’s when she said “That’s it. You can’t race anymore!”

We both find it funny how I can have these excellent workouts and then suffer and slog through my races. Each and every one of them. Go figure.

While these were both good experiences, the proof will be in tomorrow’s pudding. I ran my PT test on Friday and was not at all pleased with my 10:42 for the 1.5 miles (7:08 pace); I was shooting for 9:45 (6:30 pace), which I held for the first 1/2 mile, but then faded gradually the rest of the way. We’re doing the test again tomorrow and I think I’ll give it another go. I suspect that I won’t better Friday’s time, but it will be interesting to see what my legs have in them. Then I’ll take Tuesday off.

Well, off to read some California 70.3 race reports…