It’s been a while since my last post, but there’s no sense posting when you have nothing of interest to post about. Which likely makes you wonder why I’m posting today, when still nothing noteworthy has taken place (in relation to running), and to that I answer: get over it/yourself (and yes, I know it’s not good policy to attack your readers…if you want to keep them, that is).
Anywho, I had a great Christmas (filled with relaxing, game playing, and movie watching) spent with family/friends, and though I skipped a couple of runs in order to do those things, it wasn’t a big loss in the scope of things. However, what is shaping up to be a big loss is my lack of LSD (long, slow distance); as I mentioned in a previous blog post, I’ve been running more miles on a daily basis (and at a slightly faster clip), but haven’t run anything over 15.5 miles (yes, less than half of the distance I’ll be racing) in five weeks—since my last 50k, in fact. Which scares the bejesus out of me, as it likely means I’m ill-prepared for my impending (January 8) trail 50k, which will assuredly hurt like hell. But I’ll try and have fun with it as best I can, and think/hope a good result will accompany that plan of attack (though I also realize that I like pushing the envelope, thus am confident my earlier sentiment, in regards to the race hurting, will remain truthful).
My legs are still feeling great, just shy of 146 miles in (this month)—the increased daily mileage, run at a faster clip, doesn’t seem to be affecting them adversely in the least bit. Speaking of legs, I’m sorry to report that Calli has been hobbled of late—the cold seems to be settling into her bones a little more easily as she ages (she is 10 now, after all). That having been said, I’ve been giving her a dosage of Aspirin each day, and it really seems to be doing her wonders ; the anti-inflammatory and pain-killer seems to be just what the doctor ordered, as she is once again running and playing like a pup (so cats in our backyard beware!).
And for those of you that haven’t yet seen it, some funniness:
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Scab-eating and 2011 Scheduling
Well, my mileage was actually down last month, from 161.23 to 147.15 miles (you might recall I had hoped to eclipse 200 miles run for the month). But I felt a good many of those miles were quality ones (it helps that a large portion of those were from my 50k), so I won’t quibble too much. Thus far, December is looking quite good—I’ve been tallying at least 7 miles each run, and though I’ve not done any big mileage (yet—the plan is to change that this Saturday), my legs are still feeling limber and strong. I just signed up for what should be a pretty taxing trail ultra (another 50k) in early January (the Harbison 50k, on Saturday, January 8), so let’s hope the training remains strong (and the sweets-eating/alcohol-swilling is kept to a semi-reasonable level) throughout the holiday season.
With the addition of the Harbison 50k, my 2011 race schedule is starting to round into form pretty nicely--below is what it currently looks like, though I’m sure to add to it (March of Dimes Shamrock 5k, etc.) as the year progresses:
January 8: Harbison 50k
February 5: Critz Tybee Half Marathon
April 18: Boston Marathon
July 9: Knee Knackering North Shore Trail Run (30 miles)—tentative, due to lottery
July 30: Burning River 100
November 6: ING New York City Marathon—tentative, due to lottery
2011 will apparently be filled with lots of miles, and body-willing, they’re going to be fast ones. More on my goals in a later installment.
For now, I’ll end with an interesting, yet distressing/disgusting story pertaining to Calli: the other night, I watched as my dog meticulously chewed a small (pencil eraser-sized) scab off of her buttocks. Using just her two front teeth, she carefully pulled small pieces of it off and ate them, shaking her head disgustedly each time. She did this perhaps five separate times. She now has a new scab where once the old one was. It appears to be healing nicely….
"I'm too angelic to be a scab-eater!"
With the addition of the Harbison 50k, my 2011 race schedule is starting to round into form pretty nicely--below is what it currently looks like, though I’m sure to add to it (March of Dimes Shamrock 5k, etc.) as the year progresses:
January 8: Harbison 50k
February 5: Critz Tybee Half Marathon
April 18: Boston Marathon
July 9: Knee Knackering North Shore Trail Run (30 miles)—tentative, due to lottery
July 30: Burning River 100
November 6: ING New York City Marathon—tentative, due to lottery
2011 will apparently be filled with lots of miles, and body-willing, they’re going to be fast ones. More on my goals in a later installment.
For now, I’ll end with an interesting, yet distressing/disgusting story pertaining to Calli: the other night, I watched as my dog meticulously chewed a small (pencil eraser-sized) scab off of her buttocks. Using just her two front teeth, she carefully pulled small pieces of it off and ate them, shaking her head disgustedly each time. She did this perhaps five separate times. She now has a new scab where once the old one was. It appears to be healing nicely….
"I'm too angelic to be a scab-eater!"
Monday, November 22, 2010
Mad Marsh Recap
Achieving two out of three goals at the Mad Marsh 50k ain’t too shabby, especially considering my knocking goal #2 out of the park. Here’s how they shook out:
1.) Eat and hydrate consistently and enough—I refilled my water bottle (either with water or Gatorade) and grabbed a snack (banana, grapes as big as a small dog, peanut butter cups, etc.) each time through the aid station .
2.) Finish in 5 hours—I finished in 3:56:55. Completing the run in 5 hours would have meant I’d run at a pace of 9:33per mile. I ran at 7:31 per mile pace.
3.) Win—I finished in second place overall, by something like 18 seconds (which, in a 31.5-mile race, is the slimmest of margins).
As is likely apparent, my “fun run” turned into a race, pretty much from the get-go. Four of us went out at a decent clip (somewhere near 7:20), and as we settled into a groove, discussed (among other things) who was running what event (there was both a 31.5-mile and 22.5-mile race). Each race was equally represented in our grouping. Shortly thereafter, the two guys running the shorter distance moved ahead, both wishing to run closer to 7:00 per mile. I moved up to run abreast of the remaining runner, whose name I would later learn was/is Ricky, and we slowed slightly (which was a relief to me, as I thought our pace was a bit fast—comfortable, but fast for a race of this length, I felt). It was only later (when I was too far in to “give up”) that he’d tell me he was aiming for (and we were hitting) 7:26 per mile pace. For six (of 7) laps we ran this way—two abreast, at/around 7:26 per mile. Ricky pulled Chris around the course. Chris pushed Ricky around the course. I.e. neither of us wanted to lose to the other. When it became obvious that we weren’t going to drop one another, we both began to scheme. My plan for lap #7: sit on his shoulder and out-kick him down the final straightaway. His scheme was better: instead of stopping at the aid station to refuel between laps 6 and 7, he continued on. By the time I was out of the aid station, he’d gapped me by about .25-mile. I was hurting and my muscles were tightening up, so I decided to let him go and just try and run at the same pace—he’d run a good race and deserved the victory and I’d run too far and fast to let the final lap skew my times considerably. So I kept plodding along. Within about a mile, I noticed Ricky coming back to me. Little by little, I was reeling him in, simply by sticking to my pace—was he slowing because he was tired and cramping, or did he simply think he’d broken me and was out of the woods? With just over 1.5 miles to go, I caught up to within about 10 feet of him. Unfortunately, he picked his pace back up, and I was unwilling to do so, thus he ended up beating me by 19 seconds. If I had it to do over again, I would have tried to go with him when he picked his pace back up—I can’t abide too much laurel-resting, after all.
I truly am happy with the result, on the whole, and it allowed for good headspace going into a fun-filled Saturday of football and Roller Derby watching with friends.
Some quick observations from my drive to and from the race:
1.) I’m not sure how I feel about driving to a race when the only other people awake are strip club patrons. 4:30 AM is too early to be up for the amount of energy each of those circumstances requires.
2.) I can’t believe someone thought naming their Chinese restaurant House of Tang was a good idea. I also can’t believe that there were numerous hits when I googled it (c’mon, Vermont, Kentucky and South Carolina!).
Even after my second place finish, Calli can still look me in the eye when we talk...
…and if that doesn’t make you smile, then these pictures, will (make sure you check out the full set).
1.) Eat and hydrate consistently and enough—I refilled my water bottle (either with water or Gatorade) and grabbed a snack (banana, grapes as big as a small dog, peanut butter cups, etc.) each time through the aid station .
2.) Finish in 5 hours—I finished in 3:56:55. Completing the run in 5 hours would have meant I’d run at a pace of 9:33per mile. I ran at 7:31 per mile pace.
3.) Win—I finished in second place overall, by something like 18 seconds (which, in a 31.5-mile race, is the slimmest of margins).
As is likely apparent, my “fun run” turned into a race, pretty much from the get-go. Four of us went out at a decent clip (somewhere near 7:20), and as we settled into a groove, discussed (among other things) who was running what event (there was both a 31.5-mile and 22.5-mile race). Each race was equally represented in our grouping. Shortly thereafter, the two guys running the shorter distance moved ahead, both wishing to run closer to 7:00 per mile. I moved up to run abreast of the remaining runner, whose name I would later learn was/is Ricky, and we slowed slightly (which was a relief to me, as I thought our pace was a bit fast—comfortable, but fast for a race of this length, I felt). It was only later (when I was too far in to “give up”) that he’d tell me he was aiming for (and we were hitting) 7:26 per mile pace. For six (of 7) laps we ran this way—two abreast, at/around 7:26 per mile. Ricky pulled Chris around the course. Chris pushed Ricky around the course. I.e. neither of us wanted to lose to the other. When it became obvious that we weren’t going to drop one another, we both began to scheme. My plan for lap #7: sit on his shoulder and out-kick him down the final straightaway. His scheme was better: instead of stopping at the aid station to refuel between laps 6 and 7, he continued on. By the time I was out of the aid station, he’d gapped me by about .25-mile. I was hurting and my muscles were tightening up, so I decided to let him go and just try and run at the same pace—he’d run a good race and deserved the victory and I’d run too far and fast to let the final lap skew my times considerably. So I kept plodding along. Within about a mile, I noticed Ricky coming back to me. Little by little, I was reeling him in, simply by sticking to my pace—was he slowing because he was tired and cramping, or did he simply think he’d broken me and was out of the woods? With just over 1.5 miles to go, I caught up to within about 10 feet of him. Unfortunately, he picked his pace back up, and I was unwilling to do so, thus he ended up beating me by 19 seconds. If I had it to do over again, I would have tried to go with him when he picked his pace back up—I can’t abide too much laurel-resting, after all.
I truly am happy with the result, on the whole, and it allowed for good headspace going into a fun-filled Saturday of football and Roller Derby watching with friends.
Some quick observations from my drive to and from the race:
1.) I’m not sure how I feel about driving to a race when the only other people awake are strip club patrons. 4:30 AM is too early to be up for the amount of energy each of those circumstances requires.
2.) I can’t believe someone thought naming their Chinese restaurant House of Tang was a good idea. I also can’t believe that there were numerous hits when I googled it (c’mon, Vermont, Kentucky and South Carolina!).
Even after my second place finish, Calli can still look me in the eye when we talk...
…and if that doesn’t make you smile, then these pictures, will (make sure you check out the full set).
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Helen Observations and Mad Marsh Expectations
Julia, the pups and I traveled up to Helen, GA (approximately a 5-hour drive) this past weekend for some expected mountain fun and relaxation. We accomplished both. In fact, we had so much fun that I didn’t run a single time (in three days), though the steepness of the aforementioned mountains (during our daily hikes) didn’t really clue my not-used-to-hills legs in to that fact. Observations from the trip:
1.) Giant hunks of aged meat, as well as asparagus, on the grill = a gluttonous good time
2.) Not having to leash your dog, while also not having to worry about her dog running into traffic or falling down a mountainside and breaking her spindly legs = a gratifying good time
3.) Having perfect weather for hiking (sunny and in the low 70s) during the day, followed by perfect weather for hot tubbing (high 30s) in the evening = a grievous good time
Tonight will be the last time I run prior to Saturday’s Mad Marsh 50k (seven 4.5-mile laps, which will actually make it a tad longer than a true 50k), so I’ll likely only put in 4-5 miles at a nice, easy pace. My goals for the Mad Marsh 50k:
1.) Eat and hydrate consistently and enough
2.) Finish in 5 hours
3.) Win
There are currently only about 30 people slated to run Mad Marsh, and with the course described as being “flat as a pancake,” I like my chances to accomplish all three of my objectives listed above (#1 will be assisted by my ability to visit the aid station each lap). But whether I do or not, I’m using this as nothing more than a way to get in a lengthy fun run for training purposes. It’s just that winning, in a respectable time (to me), would help me start my morning off on the right foot…making that evening’s Roller Derby viewing and beer-partaking that much more glee-inspiring.
Calli will be intently waiting to hear the result….
...and if I don't hit upon all my goals, she has already promised to get the following song stuck in my head (the title of which she will direct at me; she has high expectations and quite the temper, it seems):
1.) Giant hunks of aged meat, as well as asparagus, on the grill = a gluttonous good time
2.) Not having to leash your dog, while also not having to worry about her dog running into traffic or falling down a mountainside and breaking her spindly legs = a gratifying good time
3.) Having perfect weather for hiking (sunny and in the low 70s) during the day, followed by perfect weather for hot tubbing (high 30s) in the evening = a grievous good time
Tonight will be the last time I run prior to Saturday’s Mad Marsh 50k (seven 4.5-mile laps, which will actually make it a tad longer than a true 50k), so I’ll likely only put in 4-5 miles at a nice, easy pace. My goals for the Mad Marsh 50k:
1.) Eat and hydrate consistently and enough
2.) Finish in 5 hours
3.) Win
There are currently only about 30 people slated to run Mad Marsh, and with the course described as being “flat as a pancake,” I like my chances to accomplish all three of my objectives listed above (#1 will be assisted by my ability to visit the aid station each lap). But whether I do or not, I’m using this as nothing more than a way to get in a lengthy fun run for training purposes. It’s just that winning, in a respectable time (to me), would help me start my morning off on the right foot…making that evening’s Roller Derby viewing and beer-partaking that much more glee-inspiring.
Calli will be intently waiting to hear the result….
...and if I don't hit upon all my goals, she has already promised to get the following song stuck in my head (the title of which she will direct at me; she has high expectations and quite the temper, it seems):
Thursday, November 4, 2010
My First Victory of the Year (Thank You, Happy Legs!)
Another race in the books (the Trick or Trot 10k), and I’ve finally recorded my first victory of the year: first place in 36:29, which I’m pretty happy about for multiple reasons.
1.) It’s my fastest 10k.
2.) I feel I definitely could have gone faster—under 36:00—as I shut it down early knowing I had the win in-hand.
3.) My legs felt great—they were strong and still responding well.
Continuing with the legs discussion, I couldn’t be happier with how well they’ve been holding up. Over the last couple of years, I’ve had both good and bad training periods—sometimes a day or two of strong running followed by heavy-leggedness (at its worst), and sometimes a week or two before the eventual sluggishness. The last two months, I’ve had a single day wherein my legs were lethargic and disallowed me from running the speed and/or distance I’d set out to do. One day in sixty. And no pain throughout. I just hope this keeps up as I increase my mileage and speed, both of which I intend to do (carefully!).
Speaking of increases in mileage, October’s monthly mileage total came in at 161.23 miles, compared to the previous month’s 125.39 (an increase of nearly 29%, which may be a bit ambitious, though much of that increase comes from the 33.25-mile FATS 50k). After only 61.68 miles in August (my Burning River recovery month), I am very comfortable with and confident in my mileage swell. With another 50k (the Mad Marsh) looming this month, I’m thinking nearly 200 miles is likely. I want to start being at 200 consistently, so what better time than now?
Also, Happy (late) Halloween to you all—I hope you had fun…
…while Calli would rather put her own eye out than see you have fun (sometimes you have to save her from herself). For shame, Calli—FOR SHAME!
1.) It’s my fastest 10k.
2.) I feel I definitely could have gone faster—under 36:00—as I shut it down early knowing I had the win in-hand.
3.) My legs felt great—they were strong and still responding well.
Continuing with the legs discussion, I couldn’t be happier with how well they’ve been holding up. Over the last couple of years, I’ve had both good and bad training periods—sometimes a day or two of strong running followed by heavy-leggedness (at its worst), and sometimes a week or two before the eventual sluggishness. The last two months, I’ve had a single day wherein my legs were lethargic and disallowed me from running the speed and/or distance I’d set out to do. One day in sixty. And no pain throughout. I just hope this keeps up as I increase my mileage and speed, both of which I intend to do (carefully!).
Speaking of increases in mileage, October’s monthly mileage total came in at 161.23 miles, compared to the previous month’s 125.39 (an increase of nearly 29%, which may be a bit ambitious, though much of that increase comes from the 33.25-mile FATS 50k). After only 61.68 miles in August (my Burning River recovery month), I am very comfortable with and confident in my mileage swell. With another 50k (the Mad Marsh) looming this month, I’m thinking nearly 200 miles is likely. I want to start being at 200 consistently, so what better time than now?
Also, Happy (late) Halloween to you all—I hope you had fun…
…while Calli would rather put her own eye out than see you have fun (sometimes you have to save her from herself). For shame, Calli—FOR SHAME!
Friday, October 22, 2010
The Few, the Proud: Those That Were Able to Register for Boston
Not much to report on the training front this week—the legs are still feeling strong, thus preparations (though for what?) are going swimmingly. The Go Green 5k Trail Run (last weekend) went well, with me placing a solid second in 17:57; I was encouraged that I ran semi-quickly, yet felt like I was coasting and could have kept up the pace without too much issue for another few miles. I guess we’ll see next weekend, at the Trick or Trot (10k). I may work in a bit of speedwork, just to ready my legs for the sensation, but realize that I’ve not given myself enough time doing so to build anything resembling a solid speed base (instead opting for a mileage base).
The biggest news, by far, is that I was able to sign-up for the Boston Marathon (which will take place Monday, April 18) again this year. I’m glad I didn’t play the waiting game with it, as all 25,000 available qualifier slots filled up within 8 hours. Two years ago, it took approximately three months for all 25,000 slots to fill (a record quickness at that time), and last year (my first year running it) filled up within a single month. And now it’s taking less than a full day. I sense Boston will be modifying their qualifying standards and/or going to a lottery system (a-la the NYC Marathon, which requires most of the 37,000 entrants to meet a qualifying time AND have their name picked during the name-in-the-proverbial-hat process) in the very near future, as the demand is currently far too great for the current specifications.
SO, unless I come up with another race-to-train-for in between now and then, I’ll be kicking it into high gear around the start of the new year, as I aim to run 2:50:00 this year at Boston. I’m getting tired of running in near-obscurity, after all (though I don’t know that running under 2:50:00 will remedy that, it will at least be a good start to what I hope will be my fastest year to date).
The biggest news, by far, is that I was able to sign-up for the Boston Marathon (which will take place Monday, April 18) again this year. I’m glad I didn’t play the waiting game with it, as all 25,000 available qualifier slots filled up within 8 hours. Two years ago, it took approximately three months for all 25,000 slots to fill (a record quickness at that time), and last year (my first year running it) filled up within a single month. And now it’s taking less than a full day. I sense Boston will be modifying their qualifying standards and/or going to a lottery system (a-la the NYC Marathon, which requires most of the 37,000 entrants to meet a qualifying time AND have their name picked during the name-in-the-proverbial-hat process) in the very near future, as the demand is currently far too great for the current specifications.
SO, unless I come up with another race-to-train-for in between now and then, I’ll be kicking it into high gear around the start of the new year, as I aim to run 2:50:00 this year at Boston. I’m getting tired of running in near-obscurity, after all (though I don’t know that running under 2:50:00 will remedy that, it will at least be a good start to what I hope will be my fastest year to date).
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Three New Races and My Ever-Increasing Shame
Still nothing imminent on the “scheduled big race” horizon, though I did sign-up for three separate $20 races last week: the Go Green 5k Trail Run (Saturday, Oct. 16), the Trick or Trot 10k (Saturday, Oct. 30), and the Mad Marsh 50k (Saturday, Nov. 20). I find it humorous that I can pay the same amount of money for a race/run that is 10x the distance of another, but hey, it is what it is—I’m just glad they’re all so affordable (it sure beats the $150 Burning River or Boston Marathon fee…though you do “get what you pay for,” which is essentially my way of saying I'll be shelling out the funds for those races again, without issue). Here’s a brief race synopsis of each of the aforementioned three I’ll be running:
Go Green 5k Trail Run: I wasn’t even aware of this new, under-the-radar run until last Friday, when I was asked if I knew about the race that was “right around the corner from [my] house”. Upon looking it up the following day, I found that this was not an exaggeration—the race is literally right around the corner from my house (it’s run in a conservation area that is situated within the woods that border my backyard). So I signed up, as I can’t pass-up a race that doesn’t even require me to move my car out of my garage (even if I haven’t done any of the necessary preparation for it, at all). And it’s (supposedly) on trails (though they are newly-cleared trails that are still chock-full of soft, thick underbrush—ideal for speed: no, ideal for ankle turns and hidden objects: yes). But the race map makes it look like just as much of the run is on the road/paved bicycle paths, so I’ll emerge unscathed yet.
Trick or Trot (10k): This is another low-key event, but one I look forward to (and participate in) each year. It begins and ends at my old Elementary School (May Howard), which sits approximately 2.5 miles from my front door. Again, a race that is run in/on my stomping grounds, and one that most of the family participates in each year; I never lay down a super-fast time (though the course couldn’t be much easier), but it’s one of my all-time favorites. Plus, 10ks are so few and far between....
Mad Marsh 50k: At my recently completed FATS 50k, a gal was handing out fliers for another 50k she was spearheading—the Mad Marsh 50k. I took a gander online, and though this is primarily a fun run (at last tally, I believe there were 10 people signed up), I couldn’t pass-up the opportunity to get in some good, long distance on trails. Held in Beaufort, SC (which is only about an hour away), this should work out for me nicely; it will help me keep some distance on my legs without making me drive too far or go it alone.
I couldn’t ask for much more in my training—the weather is cooling ever-so-slightly, my legs are feeling pretty strong, and I have a few races on the horizon to help keep me motivated. I’m still searching for the ever-elusive “big race,” but fear that it’s gotten too late in the year for such high hopes; many ultramarathons are run out West, where there are ample well-developed trails (and mountains) to allow for such endeavors, and many of the trails will soon be snow-covered. It’s probably for the best, as my already-existent bills need paid more than I need to splurge on travel and hotel expenses…but still, racing makes me happy (and yes, I realize it’s an addiction). But having said that, Boston Marathon sign-up begins next Monday (October 18) at 9:00 AM EDT, so I’ve at least got that to look forward to.
I’ll leave you with two songs/videos that always make me smile and somehow require me to sing at the top of my lungs (sorry, world)—“The Cave” by Mumford & Sons (excellent, excellent stuff) and “Dynamite” by Taio Cruz (yes, I’m ashamed of myself):
P.S. How does the briefcase-toting white girl in Taio's two-girl posse keep from showing her downstairs? I mean, the camera is RIGHT THERE and her "dress" is cut up to her cleavage. I'm convinced she's anatomically incorrect (i.e. a human Barbie Doll). I've evidently watched the video far too many times...FOR SHAME!
Go Green 5k Trail Run: I wasn’t even aware of this new, under-the-radar run until last Friday, when I was asked if I knew about the race that was “right around the corner from [my] house”. Upon looking it up the following day, I found that this was not an exaggeration—the race is literally right around the corner from my house (it’s run in a conservation area that is situated within the woods that border my backyard). So I signed up, as I can’t pass-up a race that doesn’t even require me to move my car out of my garage (even if I haven’t done any of the necessary preparation for it, at all). And it’s (supposedly) on trails (though they are newly-cleared trails that are still chock-full of soft, thick underbrush—ideal for speed: no, ideal for ankle turns and hidden objects: yes). But the race map makes it look like just as much of the run is on the road/paved bicycle paths, so I’ll emerge unscathed yet.
Trick or Trot (10k): This is another low-key event, but one I look forward to (and participate in) each year. It begins and ends at my old Elementary School (May Howard), which sits approximately 2.5 miles from my front door. Again, a race that is run in/on my stomping grounds, and one that most of the family participates in each year; I never lay down a super-fast time (though the course couldn’t be much easier), but it’s one of my all-time favorites. Plus, 10ks are so few and far between....
Mad Marsh 50k: At my recently completed FATS 50k, a gal was handing out fliers for another 50k she was spearheading—the Mad Marsh 50k. I took a gander online, and though this is primarily a fun run (at last tally, I believe there were 10 people signed up), I couldn’t pass-up the opportunity to get in some good, long distance on trails. Held in Beaufort, SC (which is only about an hour away), this should work out for me nicely; it will help me keep some distance on my legs without making me drive too far or go it alone.
I couldn’t ask for much more in my training—the weather is cooling ever-so-slightly, my legs are feeling pretty strong, and I have a few races on the horizon to help keep me motivated. I’m still searching for the ever-elusive “big race,” but fear that it’s gotten too late in the year for such high hopes; many ultramarathons are run out West, where there are ample well-developed trails (and mountains) to allow for such endeavors, and many of the trails will soon be snow-covered. It’s probably for the best, as my already-existent bills need paid more than I need to splurge on travel and hotel expenses…but still, racing makes me happy (and yes, I realize it’s an addiction). But having said that, Boston Marathon sign-up begins next Monday (October 18) at 9:00 AM EDT, so I’ve at least got that to look forward to.
I’ll leave you with two songs/videos that always make me smile and somehow require me to sing at the top of my lungs (sorry, world)—“The Cave” by Mumford & Sons (excellent, excellent stuff) and “Dynamite” by Taio Cruz (yes, I’m ashamed of myself):
P.S. How does the briefcase-toting white girl in Taio's two-girl posse keep from showing her downstairs? I mean, the camera is RIGHT THERE and her "dress" is cut up to her cleavage. I'm convinced she's anatomically incorrect (i.e. a human Barbie Doll). I've evidently watched the video far too many times...FOR SHAME!
Thursday, October 7, 2010
FATS 50k Race Recap
Well, it appears the requisite distance required to complete the FATS 50k was not quite enough for me, nor the difficulty of the course itself—I had to tack on a little over a quarter mile (to an already longer-than-the-actual-distance course) and run the last 7.5 miles uphill, as opposed to the slated downhill.
Notes to self:
1.) You printed out (and used packing tape to protect) the course directions/section distances for a reason. Learn to use them, so that when you get to the final aid station in first place (with approximately 7.5 miles to go in the race), you don’t go the exact opposite direction you were intended to go, thus ending up in a parking lot…after which you still can’t figure out where you went wrong, so you run the final portion of the course backwards (and uphill) and get passed by three people, thus relegating you to fourth place overall.
2.) If not for feeling sorry for yourself, you would have still held on to second place. Getting lost happens (more often than you’d think) in ultras, so get past it and let the time you’ve lost fuel you to run faster/better.
The race itself went well, for the most part. Though I likely went out a little fast, I stayed within myself and kept a nice, steady pace throughout (besides the last 7.5 miles, wherein the steady uphill, my discouraged mind, and the lack of Gatorade I’d consumed all got the best of me and caused me to walk far more than I would have normally liked). Though a 50k equates to 31.07 miles, the course was a bit longer than that (one person’s estimate was 31.8 miles), so my best guess is that I ran approximately 32 miles in an official time of 5:31:47. The weather was great (possibly even a bit chilly, for the clothes I was wearing, in the shaded woods—my car registered low 50s at the start of the race), and for a “free” race (they only accepted donations), it was well run. Though I probably won’t run this particular course/race again (on many parts, I felt as though I was on a mogul course—indeed, one particular stretch of the course was appropriately named Brown Wave), I’ll very likely run more of the races in this series, as the drive-time to most of them isn’t atrocious (this one was just under 3 hours) and there are no trails to speak of in my neck of the woods.
Though they’re still a bit tired, my legs feel great (in fact, I only used Monday as a recovery day) and I’m already jonesing for another long distance escapade (of which I’ve still got nothing scheduled). I need to decide on one, though…Calli is getting tired of my stalling.
EDIT: I just received word from the FATS 50k race organizer that the race itself was just over 33 miles, so I probably ran closer to 33.25, rather than the previously quoted 32.
Notes to self:
1.) You printed out (and used packing tape to protect) the course directions/section distances for a reason. Learn to use them, so that when you get to the final aid station in first place (with approximately 7.5 miles to go in the race), you don’t go the exact opposite direction you were intended to go, thus ending up in a parking lot…after which you still can’t figure out where you went wrong, so you run the final portion of the course backwards (and uphill) and get passed by three people, thus relegating you to fourth place overall.
2.) If not for feeling sorry for yourself, you would have still held on to second place. Getting lost happens (more often than you’d think) in ultras, so get past it and let the time you’ve lost fuel you to run faster/better.
The race itself went well, for the most part. Though I likely went out a little fast, I stayed within myself and kept a nice, steady pace throughout (besides the last 7.5 miles, wherein the steady uphill, my discouraged mind, and the lack of Gatorade I’d consumed all got the best of me and caused me to walk far more than I would have normally liked). Though a 50k equates to 31.07 miles, the course was a bit longer than that (one person’s estimate was 31.8 miles), so my best guess is that I ran approximately 32 miles in an official time of 5:31:47. The weather was great (possibly even a bit chilly, for the clothes I was wearing, in the shaded woods—my car registered low 50s at the start of the race), and for a “free” race (they only accepted donations), it was well run. Though I probably won’t run this particular course/race again (on many parts, I felt as though I was on a mogul course—indeed, one particular stretch of the course was appropriately named Brown Wave), I’ll very likely run more of the races in this series, as the drive-time to most of them isn’t atrocious (this one was just under 3 hours) and there are no trails to speak of in my neck of the woods.
Though they’re still a bit tired, my legs feel great (in fact, I only used Monday as a recovery day) and I’m already jonesing for another long distance escapade (of which I’ve still got nothing scheduled). I need to decide on one, though…Calli is getting tired of my stalling.
EDIT: I just received word from the FATS 50k race organizer that the race itself was just over 33 miles, so I probably ran closer to 33.25, rather than the previously quoted 32.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Lack of Motivation
This is the longest I’ve gone without updating my blog since its inception—slightly over three weeks, which have been filled with a Beer Fest, a visitation from my grandfather, and football (amongst other things). I’ve been eating out far more regularly than prior to this span, and being an evening runner, this has caused me to either cut short or altogether skip my runs. I’ve been staying up later and sleeping worse/less, which has sapped my energy and has not lent itself to A+ results. I’ve been eating and drinking worse/more than usual (which, admittedly, could be construed as a direct result of some of my aforementioned points). And I’ll readily admit that I’ve allowed these things—my social calendar, so to speak--to eek into my running plans far more often than I should, or is normal. Is this wholly due to the “perfect storm” of distracters, or is there something more there?—a lack of excitement, perhaps? It’s true that I really do love running, but it’s also true that I like having a point in the not-so-distant-future wherein I have something to look forward to; a race to hone in on and for which to set goals. So, I’ll be increasingly scanning the world wide web in search of said race(s), and have chalked this latest bout of ‘ineptitude’ to what was likely a much-needed break. As previously mentioned in a past post, I’ve got the FATS 50k (which I’m using more as a fun-run-on-trails than a race) lurking on the horizon (a week and a half from now—Sunday, October 3), and will try and have another ultra lined up by/near that time. Perhaps the Mother Road 100, in Tulsa, OK?
Weekly mileage (to this point, again keeping in mind that I’m starting with Monday and not Sunday): 9.89 miles (I took Monday AND Wednesday off, thus the meager output thus far)
Last week’s mileage: 29.68 miles (FOR SHAME!)
Fun observations/soundbytes:
1.) Only in Georgia can the top prize in a 5k road race be an M4 assault rifle. I’m not making this up. It seems Georgia is attempting to create a new kind of biathlete.
2.) The Island’s YMCA is a short distance from my house (approximately 1 mile) and features a paved, winding 1-mile track around it. Thus this is a regular destination for me, especially when I’m in the mood to see or be seen by other exercisers. Late last week, I rounded a bend on this track to find two small scooter-wielding children (a boy and a girl, perhaps 5 and 4 in age respectively) and a woman I assume to be their mother. I was running sans shirt, as I often do. This apparently vexed the boy, who loudly asked of his mother “he’s not wearing a shirt?” The mother laughed heartily. I did as well. I also laughingly apologized (to the tike), not knowing what else to say/do. It seems Georgia is attempting to create a community of prudes.
Weekly mileage (to this point, again keeping in mind that I’m starting with Monday and not Sunday): 9.89 miles (I took Monday AND Wednesday off, thus the meager output thus far)
Last week’s mileage: 29.68 miles (FOR SHAME!)
Fun observations/soundbytes:
1.) Only in Georgia can the top prize in a 5k road race be an M4 assault rifle. I’m not making this up. It seems Georgia is attempting to create a new kind of biathlete.
2.) The Island’s YMCA is a short distance from my house (approximately 1 mile) and features a paved, winding 1-mile track around it. Thus this is a regular destination for me, especially when I’m in the mood to see or be seen by other exercisers. Late last week, I rounded a bend on this track to find two small scooter-wielding children (a boy and a girl, perhaps 5 and 4 in age respectively) and a woman I assume to be their mother. I was running sans shirt, as I often do. This apparently vexed the boy, who loudly asked of his mother “he’s not wearing a shirt?” The mother laughed heartily. I did as well. I also laughingly apologized (to the tike), not knowing what else to say/do. It seems Georgia is attempting to create a community of prudes.
Monday, August 30, 2010
I'm Newsworthy!
I was recently interviewed by the Savannah Morning News and the resulting story can be found here; it seems that people are interested in why other people choose to run (and bike) stupidly-long distances. That having been said, it's my personal belief that the article would have been better served being entitled "Crazy people can be found at any age."
Calli is not impressed.
Calli is not impressed.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
On The Mend and On The Move
I’m finally starting to feel more like myself out on the roads. And it’s about time (I’ve only got 30.92 miles in the book for the month of August). After taking two full weeks off after Burning River (due to need more than want), I had to ease back into running for a week (2-3 miles each time out, and more every other day than in succession) before being able to find my groove again this week. I’ve still got a bit of achiness/tightness in/around my right knee, and though it’s something I’ll be keeping my eye on, it’s nothing that’s going to hold me back. Which is a relief, because I felt myself going stir-crazy and didn’t want my mom to open the paper to find a “Local Man, Unable to Run, Turns to Life of Crime” headline. For better or worse, running has rapidly become a necessary evil within my life. I’m ok with it. Calli looks to be, too--I wonder if it’s because she likes seeing me happy, or if she simply wants me out of the house so that she can sleep more. Something tells me a little from column A, a little from column B.
Next up: the FATS 50k (31.07 miles) on October 3, for what I hope will be a nice, even training run on North Augusta trails.
P.S. A special shout-out to my good friends Jesse and Jessica, who are newly made first-time parents. Welcome to the world, beautiful baby JAB!
Next up: the FATS 50k (31.07 miles) on October 3, for what I hope will be a nice, even training run on North Augusta trails.
P.S. A special shout-out to my good friends Jesse and Jessica, who are newly made first-time parents. Welcome to the world, beautiful baby JAB!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Burning River Race Report
Now that I’ve given myself a week and a half to digest a race that took me 23:36:26 to complete and have put most of the bumps, bruises, stiffness, swelling, etc. in the rearview, I feel I finally have the capacity to put into words my Burning River experience. This will be a race report only insomuch as it will discuss my feelings/observations about Burning River and, in so doing, the 100-mile discipline of the ultramarathon—it would be impossible for me to remember many (let alone all) of the aid stations, segments of the course in between each, etc.
The course/weather: A-. Beautiful, well maintained, and diverse enough to keep my mind from wandering (which could make for a very long race, if I’m constantly reminded that I’m indeed running). Well marked (with a single exception: just after Shadow Lake, approximately 19 miles in) and well shaded. The weather was perfect (primarily in the 70s and a bit overcast), allowing for solid trails and very little overheating. I don’t think I could have picked a better inaugural ultra, and believe most ultramarathons would be hard-pressed to match the course/weather combo.
Race organization/volunteers: A+. From the very thorough runner’s packet (complete with directions to each aid station, elevation changes, aid station-to-aid station segment descriptions, etc.) to the course guide with YouTube videos (provided by Chaney Events) of nearly every segment , I had a very clear picture of the race in its entirety prior to toeing the starting line. As for the volunteers, I can’t say enough for/about them. With 400+ of them, each aid station had multiple volunteers clamoring to assist you—I’m pretty sure I never filled my own water bottle, and very rarely did I have to gather my own foodstuffs. They wanted me to have home-made soup, boiled potatoes and pizza. Every volunteer had a smile affixed to their face, words of encouragement to provide, and info regarding the next course segment readily on-hand. One guy (58.6 miles in) took it upon himself to repeatedly douse me with water from giant, ice-cold sponges…I thought it laughingly excessive at the time, but was happy he’d done it shortly thereafter. But volunteer numero uno was, without a doubt, my pacer Dave. Not only was he stuck with me--a guy he’d only ever spoken with via email--for the last 46.6 miles, he was stuck with me the last 20 or so miles, when my legs were no longer cooperating and my mind was overtaken by surliness and negativity. We discussed 7:00 AM leadership classes, weird foot nodules, and too-stupid-to-not-be-funny jokes. He made me eat bananas and potatoes, and shared the last of his water with me when he too was thirsty. He didn’t laugh at me when, 95-miles in, I thought a rock and some tree branches were a cow statue, nor did he mind being laughed at (when I asked him if he wore either glasses or contacts and he answered with a “hmmm,” as if to say he wasn’t quite sure. I would later find out that he hadn’t fully heard the question). He made every mile I ran/walked/limped with him more enjoyable/bearable that they would have otherwise been. Thanks, Dave (and to your lovely wife Tamara, for tagging along and helping to keep our spirits up, too).
How I felt mentally/physically, and what that means for my ultramarathon career going forward: C+ (if not for the final 20--give or take a few--miles, this rating would have been much higher). As the race progressed, I found my running/walking ratio slowly slipping—I was still running more than I walked, but I was walking downhills I previously would have run, etc. I believed this a normal occurrence for all but the most seasoned ultramarathoners, and taken in conjunction with the fact that I knew I’d under-trained for the race, assumed it par for the course. I’d already fallen twice within the first 40 miles (once after tripping over a root and once after slipping on a slick rock during an attempted babbling brook crossing), and though a little sore from each, was no worse off for having done so. My right knee started protesting about 60 miles in, but wasn’t hampering me very much, if at all. Shortly thereafter, a tendon behind my left knee started to tighten up on me, and I had to stop from time to time to try and stretch it out. By Covered Bridge 1 (80.8 miles in), my right knee had moved from an occasional dull ache to more of a constant throb (exacerbated by running), and the tendon behind my left knee felt like it had shortened to about half its normal length. I primarily spent the final 20 miles of the race walking (especially the last 10), with a minute or two of running sparingly interjected. I was so stiff (and tired) after the race that, though I knew better, I went to bed without stretching or ice bathing. When I awoke 3-4 hours later, my left calf/ankle were nearly double the size of my right, and I likened the way I stood and/or walked to a dinosaur. Crude rendering below--click to enlarge.
A week and half later, I am still feeling some stiffness/discomfort in both legs, but these are simply “overuse injuries” that come with the territory and require nothing further than anti-inflammatories and two bouts of stretching each day.
Will I run another ultramarathon? Yes, and hopefully sooner rather than later. But only after I train harder/smarter, so that my body is better able to handle the mileage requirements I place upon it.
Below are some pictures provided by bystanders along the course—I’ll get some personal pictures uploaded in short order, upon the culmination of my current house/dog/grandpa-sitting venture.
The course/weather: A-. Beautiful, well maintained, and diverse enough to keep my mind from wandering (which could make for a very long race, if I’m constantly reminded that I’m indeed running). Well marked (with a single exception: just after Shadow Lake, approximately 19 miles in) and well shaded. The weather was perfect (primarily in the 70s and a bit overcast), allowing for solid trails and very little overheating. I don’t think I could have picked a better inaugural ultra, and believe most ultramarathons would be hard-pressed to match the course/weather combo.
Race organization/volunteers: A+. From the very thorough runner’s packet (complete with directions to each aid station, elevation changes, aid station-to-aid station segment descriptions, etc.) to the course guide with YouTube videos (provided by Chaney Events) of nearly every segment , I had a very clear picture of the race in its entirety prior to toeing the starting line. As for the volunteers, I can’t say enough for/about them. With 400+ of them, each aid station had multiple volunteers clamoring to assist you—I’m pretty sure I never filled my own water bottle, and very rarely did I have to gather my own foodstuffs. They wanted me to have home-made soup, boiled potatoes and pizza. Every volunteer had a smile affixed to their face, words of encouragement to provide, and info regarding the next course segment readily on-hand. One guy (58.6 miles in) took it upon himself to repeatedly douse me with water from giant, ice-cold sponges…I thought it laughingly excessive at the time, but was happy he’d done it shortly thereafter. But volunteer numero uno was, without a doubt, my pacer Dave. Not only was he stuck with me--a guy he’d only ever spoken with via email--for the last 46.6 miles, he was stuck with me the last 20 or so miles, when my legs were no longer cooperating and my mind was overtaken by surliness and negativity. We discussed 7:00 AM leadership classes, weird foot nodules, and too-stupid-to-not-be-funny jokes. He made me eat bananas and potatoes, and shared the last of his water with me when he too was thirsty. He didn’t laugh at me when, 95-miles in, I thought a rock and some tree branches were a cow statue, nor did he mind being laughed at (when I asked him if he wore either glasses or contacts and he answered with a “hmmm,” as if to say he wasn’t quite sure. I would later find out that he hadn’t fully heard the question). He made every mile I ran/walked/limped with him more enjoyable/bearable that they would have otherwise been. Thanks, Dave (and to your lovely wife Tamara, for tagging along and helping to keep our spirits up, too).
How I felt mentally/physically, and what that means for my ultramarathon career going forward: C+ (if not for the final 20--give or take a few--miles, this rating would have been much higher). As the race progressed, I found my running/walking ratio slowly slipping—I was still running more than I walked, but I was walking downhills I previously would have run, etc. I believed this a normal occurrence for all but the most seasoned ultramarathoners, and taken in conjunction with the fact that I knew I’d under-trained for the race, assumed it par for the course. I’d already fallen twice within the first 40 miles (once after tripping over a root and once after slipping on a slick rock during an attempted babbling brook crossing), and though a little sore from each, was no worse off for having done so. My right knee started protesting about 60 miles in, but wasn’t hampering me very much, if at all. Shortly thereafter, a tendon behind my left knee started to tighten up on me, and I had to stop from time to time to try and stretch it out. By Covered Bridge 1 (80.8 miles in), my right knee had moved from an occasional dull ache to more of a constant throb (exacerbated by running), and the tendon behind my left knee felt like it had shortened to about half its normal length. I primarily spent the final 20 miles of the race walking (especially the last 10), with a minute or two of running sparingly interjected. I was so stiff (and tired) after the race that, though I knew better, I went to bed without stretching or ice bathing. When I awoke 3-4 hours later, my left calf/ankle were nearly double the size of my right, and I likened the way I stood and/or walked to a dinosaur. Crude rendering below--click to enlarge.
A week and half later, I am still feeling some stiffness/discomfort in both legs, but these are simply “overuse injuries” that come with the territory and require nothing further than anti-inflammatories and two bouts of stretching each day.
Will I run another ultramarathon? Yes, and hopefully sooner rather than later. But only after I train harder/smarter, so that my body is better able to handle the mileage requirements I place upon it.
Below are some pictures provided by bystanders along the course—I’ll get some personal pictures uploaded in short order, upon the culmination of my current house/dog/grandpa-sitting venture.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Burning River, Here I Come
I only put in 22.6 miles last week (Sunday-Saturday, you’ll remember), but am nevertheless pretty pleased with the body of work I put in—some speedwork, some slower miles. It was a good start to my taper, as I also concentrated on getting acclimated to shoes and accessories (hats, shirts, etc.) I’ll be using on Saturday/Sunday. Put in 7.51 Sunday evening, with 3.7 last night and 3 scheduled for today, which will finish up my training—rest, rest, rest (and drive, drive, drive) after that. Of course, in between now and then stands mohawk-cutting, general packing, race packing, dog-readying, laundry, etc. And to think, I’ve already been complaining about my lack of sleep of late….
I guess that means it’s time to spill the proverbial beans (i.e. let you know that I’ll be running Burning River). Situated in/around Cuyahoga Valley National Park (near Cleveland, OH), Burning River is a 100 mile (101.1 mile, to be precise) endurance run (and home to this year’s USA Track & Field Trail Championship, which I will not be participating in—I’ll be running the same mileage as everyone else, but don’t pay the USATF dues which would make me eligible for the prize purse). The run is 75% trails and should be mostly well shaded (thankfully). Race particulars:
Start Time: 5:00 AM EDT on Saturday, 7/31
Time Cutoff: 30 hours (thus 11:00 AM EDT on Sunday, 8/1)
Aid Stations: 24 (3 unmanned water stops, and 21 manned stations)
Number of runners currently signed up: 268
My Bib Number: 216
Where you can track me in near-real time (my splits will be logged at every manned aid station): http://www.chaneyevents.com/webcast.html OR by calling Julia on either my phone or her own
Julia will be crewing for me (assisting me with the gathering of food/water or a change of sock/shoes, slap-in-the-face motivation, etc.), and I was lucky enough to “meet” (on the Burning River message board) Dave, who will be helping to pace me the final 46.6 miles.
Differences between this race (and ultramarathons in general) and just-plain-marathons:
1.) Like a marathon, ultramarathons are completed in one fell swoop—you don’t run 50 miles one day, get a good night’s sleep, then do the same the following day. However, your pace is far slower—my pace during my fastest marathon (2:53:40) was 6:38 per mile, while I would be “tickled pink” to run 12:00 per-mile pace (which would put me crossing the finishing line in just over 20 hours) during a 100 mile ultra. In order to insure you can complete the race (or give yourself a fighting chance, anyways), ultramarathoners run a pace they know won’t be too taxing over a prolonged period of time, and work walking into the race as well—during the uphill sections, perhaps during some of the more technical pieces of the course, or when they simply need a break.
2.) Due to the length of the races, most ultramarathons incorporate varying terrains: singletrack trails (narrow and oftentimes technical—roots and other obstacles on/around the trail), bridle paths (are oftentimes very pitted, through horse use) , bike-and-hike trails (are oftentimes paved and quite wide), roads, etc.
Burning River features all of these.
Because I’m using this race as more of a “is this something I’d be interested in doing more of” run than actual “how fast can I go?” race, I’m just looking to finish (i.e. goal #1: have fun, goal #2: finish). If I determine I would like to continue down the ultramarathon path, then I will train harder/better for the next one. It will help that I’ll have been through one and will know what to expect.
Burning River, here I come—I truly look forward to meeting you. Crazy, I know. This is what happens when you pretend you don’t know what you’re getting yourself in to.
I guess that means it’s time to spill the proverbial beans (i.e. let you know that I’ll be running Burning River). Situated in/around Cuyahoga Valley National Park (near Cleveland, OH), Burning River is a 100 mile (101.1 mile, to be precise) endurance run (and home to this year’s USA Track & Field Trail Championship, which I will not be participating in—I’ll be running the same mileage as everyone else, but don’t pay the USATF dues which would make me eligible for the prize purse). The run is 75% trails and should be mostly well shaded (thankfully). Race particulars:
Start Time: 5:00 AM EDT on Saturday, 7/31
Time Cutoff: 30 hours (thus 11:00 AM EDT on Sunday, 8/1)
Aid Stations: 24 (3 unmanned water stops, and 21 manned stations)
Number of runners currently signed up: 268
My Bib Number: 216
Where you can track me in near-real time (my splits will be logged at every manned aid station): http://www.chaneyevents.com/webcast.html OR by calling Julia on either my phone or her own
Julia will be crewing for me (assisting me with the gathering of food/water or a change of sock/shoes, slap-in-the-face motivation, etc.), and I was lucky enough to “meet” (on the Burning River message board) Dave, who will be helping to pace me the final 46.6 miles.
Differences between this race (and ultramarathons in general) and just-plain-marathons:
1.) Like a marathon, ultramarathons are completed in one fell swoop—you don’t run 50 miles one day, get a good night’s sleep, then do the same the following day. However, your pace is far slower—my pace during my fastest marathon (2:53:40) was 6:38 per mile, while I would be “tickled pink” to run 12:00 per-mile pace (which would put me crossing the finishing line in just over 20 hours) during a 100 mile ultra. In order to insure you can complete the race (or give yourself a fighting chance, anyways), ultramarathoners run a pace they know won’t be too taxing over a prolonged period of time, and work walking into the race as well—during the uphill sections, perhaps during some of the more technical pieces of the course, or when they simply need a break.
2.) Due to the length of the races, most ultramarathons incorporate varying terrains: singletrack trails (narrow and oftentimes technical—roots and other obstacles on/around the trail), bridle paths (are oftentimes very pitted, through horse use) , bike-and-hike trails (are oftentimes paved and quite wide), roads, etc.
Burning River features all of these.
Because I’m using this race as more of a “is this something I’d be interested in doing more of” run than actual “how fast can I go?” race, I’m just looking to finish (i.e. goal #1: have fun, goal #2: finish). If I determine I would like to continue down the ultramarathon path, then I will train harder/better for the next one. It will help that I’ll have been through one and will know what to expect.
Burning River, here I come—I truly look forward to meeting you. Crazy, I know. This is what happens when you pretend you don’t know what you’re getting yourself in to.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Speedwork: A Mind Game
I’ll admit to being slack in updating my blog recently. But this is a direct consequence of two other things that are abundantly more important: I’ve been running more (thus a major reason for the blog in the first place) and getting my act (and paperwork) together, in order to apply for a position in graduate school (and hopefully receive a Master of Arts in Teaching). Will I let my fear of needles stand in the way of my gaining access to school, which requires a recent record of immunizations? Hmm…. As for running, I put 128.58 miles on my legs in June, a far cry from the 199.3 I put on them in May. This is primarily a result of my tapering for my unsuccessful 50-miler, as well as some general laziness/recovery during the five days I was cruising. But I’m doing much better this month (49.07 miles at current count), and was pleased with how I felt during a 25-mile run (3:41:31; 8:52 pace) I logged on Tuesday. I’ll try and log a run closer to 30 miles/4:15:00-4:30:00 early next week, then begin to taper again shortly thereafter—go for quality workouts, rather than quantity. So, what does “quality” constitute for me? Well, besides working to keep my legs loose and “used to running” (i.e. slowly reducing the miles I run each week), I’ll also be implementing once or twice-weekly speed/track workouts. Why add speed workouts in to ultramarathon training at all, let alone just a few of them at the very end of a training cycle? Because I need to get my head right. Period. For me, a well-run track workout works wonders (alliteration not intended, but gladly accepted); knowing that my legs have still got speed/strength in them (ego boost), that my body can still take the punishment I dole out and keep on chugging right along (positive reinforcement), and that my mind can still be “talked into” letting me complete a rigorous workout (I rule the roost!) is a tremendous advantage for a runner that may (and will likely) be doubting any, if not all, of these throughout an ultramarathon. Just like in training, there are peaks and valleys during a race—we all embrace the peaks, but many of us are so afraid of the valleys that we stop when we encounter them. It’s those of us that can keep running through them, realizing that we’re sure to reach another peak again, that are therein able to see what we’re truly made of. This is why I run. Of course, I’m just hoping I find I’m made of an indelible spirit…rather than “poop,” like my mom keeps telling me.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie: (My) Official Race Recap
As soon as we arrived, a pickup truck parked two vehicles in front of ours overheated. Come to find out, this would be a sort of harbinger for me and my run—mid to high-90s temperatures with little to no shade AIN’T NO JOKE!
After a quick pre-race meeting, I checked (then double-checked) to insure I had all the gear I’d initially be wearing/carrying on my person, and anything else I’d need during my frequent pit-stops (I would be passing said table, as well as the main aid station, every 6 and 10 miles) laid out in easy-to-find locations on the table we’d toted with us (me and my crew—Julia and Frank). And then, just like that, we were off (courtesy of a popped paper lunch sack—pretty sure that will be both the first and last time I’ll say that).
Though just over 75 people signed-up for the race, only 56 of us had actually braved the heat, humidity, and hills and toed the line. Within the first mile, most runners had already separated from one another (or into small, tightly-bunched groups), settling themselves into a long, slender line of people running comfortably…with me, inadvertently, being the frontrunner. I chalk this up to some key points:
1.) Inexperience. I felt my 8:00-pace was comfortable, even while feeling like I was running on the face of a frying pan, but there was still the potential for 49 miles still ahead to help me adjust that mindset.
2.) A goodly portion of the first three miles is downhill, helping to speed you along (for better or worse). Even the portions of this section that were uphill weren’t terribly tough, so for someone who had only scouted this portion of the course (for whatever reason—likely naiveté), during the drive in no less, I mistakenly assumed the remainder of the course would be similar. BIG ROOKIE MISTAKE.
At mile 3.5 I coasted past a small aid station (I was carrying along a handheld bottle containing Gatorade, at this point), and shortly thereafter the course started to bare its teeth—more frequent, and steeper, hills. I’d like to think that, in between miles 4 and 5, I had some sort of inclination in my pea-sized brain that this course was something altogether different/more difficult than anything I’d ever run before. But though I walked small uphill portions during this time, I still ran through mile 6 (swapping out one Gatorade bottle for a water in the process) in approximately 45 minutes—7:30-pace. I.e. entirely too fast, which I shouted to Julia as I ran past. Downhills + no mile markers = bad internal chronometer. It was not too long after this that I was passed by two men in quick succession, including the eventual winner--a guy with a one-inch thick, chest-length goatee (which was kept under wraps; I was not swallowed up by it as he eased by me, though shortly thereafter I’d wish I had been). This section was a 2-mile out and back section (thus 4 miles total), and, I would quickly find, the hardest part of the course by far—especially the “back” section, which seemed to me to be one big, never-ending hill. By the time I got back to my gear at mile 10 (in 1:22:31—8:15-pace, which was still sub-7-hour pace), I was sitting in fourth place overall and was pretty surly—not because of my placement, but because my body was already starting to show major signs of tiring. I grabbed another Gatorade (and continued to carry my unfinished water), and was once again off—a sweaty, quickly-losing-his-form mess.
By the time I got to the small aid station on the back side of the course again (approximately mile 13.5), I’d fallen to fifth and was starting to overheat. I poured water down the back of my neck and splashed a bit more on my face, grabbed a frosted oatmeal cookie, and was slowly off again. (Before I go any further, let it be said that I wish I’d done this from the get-go—the water was startlingly cold, and a welcome relief). Coasting back in to the big aid station/my gear table at mile 16, I refilled my water bottle with the super-cold stuff the uber-friendly staff provided, then was off again (purposely dropping a still-full Gatorade bottle shortly thereafter—I was getting tired of carrying two bottles at the same time, and figured I’d only need one bottle for the 4-mile section ahead of me). I jockeyed back and forth with another guy to remain in fifth place on this section (he was running at a slower clip than me, but I was walking more than him). Arriving back at the big aid station (meaning I’d completed 20 miles, in 3:05:24—9:16-pace, continuing my drastic slowdown), I was feeling every mile I’d already run—many of my muscles were showing signs of tightness/cramping, and I had very little energy. I decided to grab half a hot dog and see how I felt after another 6 miles, so I refilled my water bottle (after having picked up my previously-discarded Gatorade), and took a seat at my gear table for a quick shoe/sock change—the ones on my feet were drenched. After the shoe change, I grabbed my headlamp, then was off once again. Only this time, I was walking away, not running—eating my half-hotdog had become a real chore. Once I finally got it down (minus a bit of the bun), I started jogging again, realizing that if I was going to start running again, now was the time—on the previously-mentioned downhills. At the small aid station (approximately 23.5 miles in), the workers there casually asked me “how ya’ doing?,” (I think just as a way of saying “hello”—they weren’t actually looking for the answer I gave them, I’m sure) to which I replied “lousy.” I then apologized to the taken-aback threesome of workers, refilled my water bottle (after drenching myself with the previous contents once again), and was once again off…but at this point, I was walking far more that I was running—when I arrived back at my gear table at mile 26 (having just walked 5 of the last 6 miles with severe muscle tightness, etc.), I’d already made-up my mind that I was calling it quits (apparently 19 others dropped out as well, as only 36 people are listed on the race's website as having finished); I felt I would be ignoring the easily-recognizable signals my body was broadcasting if I continued on, and would really be setting myself up for injury (and an absolutely miserable cruise). My final tally: 26 miles in 4:24:29 (10:10 per-mile pace).
Things I learned, both about ultramarathon running and myself:
1.) Assumptions are for chumps—take the time to scope-out the course.
2.) I’m a flatlander, through and through. I’m really going to have to spend some time doing a fair amount of incline training in the future.
3.) I have a long ways to go with my fueling. I had way too little to eat and drink—I dropped about 5.5 pounds over the course of the race, in fact. Though I took my S! Caps and gels religiously, they are in no way a substitute for actual food, and I vastly underestimated how much water I needed to take in on such a hot, humid day.
4.) I should have walked far more and run far slower at the start, saving up valuable energy for when the sun was down and the temperatures far cooler.
Sure, I was disappointed that I didn’t finish the race (especially considering that the reasons primarily centered around my booby trapping myself), but was quite happy that I was able to reign myself in when I knew I needed to—knowing I am mentally strong enough to stop myself will go a long way in allowing me to be comfortable in signing up for further ultramarathons in the future.
Slotted in behind the eventual winner:
(Inadvertent?) Extreme Close-up:
My hard-working/eating/playing crew (though I can be a real bear, I truly do appreciate it!):
After a quick pre-race meeting, I checked (then double-checked) to insure I had all the gear I’d initially be wearing/carrying on my person, and anything else I’d need during my frequent pit-stops (I would be passing said table, as well as the main aid station, every 6 and 10 miles) laid out in easy-to-find locations on the table we’d toted with us (me and my crew—Julia and Frank). And then, just like that, we were off (courtesy of a popped paper lunch sack—pretty sure that will be both the first and last time I’ll say that).
Though just over 75 people signed-up for the race, only 56 of us had actually braved the heat, humidity, and hills and toed the line. Within the first mile, most runners had already separated from one another (or into small, tightly-bunched groups), settling themselves into a long, slender line of people running comfortably…with me, inadvertently, being the frontrunner. I chalk this up to some key points:
1.) Inexperience. I felt my 8:00-pace was comfortable, even while feeling like I was running on the face of a frying pan, but there was still the potential for 49 miles still ahead to help me adjust that mindset.
2.) A goodly portion of the first three miles is downhill, helping to speed you along (for better or worse). Even the portions of this section that were uphill weren’t terribly tough, so for someone who had only scouted this portion of the course (for whatever reason—likely naiveté), during the drive in no less, I mistakenly assumed the remainder of the course would be similar. BIG ROOKIE MISTAKE.
At mile 3.5 I coasted past a small aid station (I was carrying along a handheld bottle containing Gatorade, at this point), and shortly thereafter the course started to bare its teeth—more frequent, and steeper, hills. I’d like to think that, in between miles 4 and 5, I had some sort of inclination in my pea-sized brain that this course was something altogether different/more difficult than anything I’d ever run before. But though I walked small uphill portions during this time, I still ran through mile 6 (swapping out one Gatorade bottle for a water in the process) in approximately 45 minutes—7:30-pace. I.e. entirely too fast, which I shouted to Julia as I ran past. Downhills + no mile markers = bad internal chronometer. It was not too long after this that I was passed by two men in quick succession, including the eventual winner--a guy with a one-inch thick, chest-length goatee (which was kept under wraps; I was not swallowed up by it as he eased by me, though shortly thereafter I’d wish I had been). This section was a 2-mile out and back section (thus 4 miles total), and, I would quickly find, the hardest part of the course by far—especially the “back” section, which seemed to me to be one big, never-ending hill. By the time I got back to my gear at mile 10 (in 1:22:31—8:15-pace, which was still sub-7-hour pace), I was sitting in fourth place overall and was pretty surly—not because of my placement, but because my body was already starting to show major signs of tiring. I grabbed another Gatorade (and continued to carry my unfinished water), and was once again off—a sweaty, quickly-losing-his-form mess.
By the time I got to the small aid station on the back side of the course again (approximately mile 13.5), I’d fallen to fifth and was starting to overheat. I poured water down the back of my neck and splashed a bit more on my face, grabbed a frosted oatmeal cookie, and was slowly off again. (Before I go any further, let it be said that I wish I’d done this from the get-go—the water was startlingly cold, and a welcome relief). Coasting back in to the big aid station/my gear table at mile 16, I refilled my water bottle with the super-cold stuff the uber-friendly staff provided, then was off again (purposely dropping a still-full Gatorade bottle shortly thereafter—I was getting tired of carrying two bottles at the same time, and figured I’d only need one bottle for the 4-mile section ahead of me). I jockeyed back and forth with another guy to remain in fifth place on this section (he was running at a slower clip than me, but I was walking more than him). Arriving back at the big aid station (meaning I’d completed 20 miles, in 3:05:24—9:16-pace, continuing my drastic slowdown), I was feeling every mile I’d already run—many of my muscles were showing signs of tightness/cramping, and I had very little energy. I decided to grab half a hot dog and see how I felt after another 6 miles, so I refilled my water bottle (after having picked up my previously-discarded Gatorade), and took a seat at my gear table for a quick shoe/sock change—the ones on my feet were drenched. After the shoe change, I grabbed my headlamp, then was off once again. Only this time, I was walking away, not running—eating my half-hotdog had become a real chore. Once I finally got it down (minus a bit of the bun), I started jogging again, realizing that if I was going to start running again, now was the time—on the previously-mentioned downhills. At the small aid station (approximately 23.5 miles in), the workers there casually asked me “how ya’ doing?,” (I think just as a way of saying “hello”—they weren’t actually looking for the answer I gave them, I’m sure) to which I replied “lousy.” I then apologized to the taken-aback threesome of workers, refilled my water bottle (after drenching myself with the previous contents once again), and was once again off…but at this point, I was walking far more that I was running—when I arrived back at my gear table at mile 26 (having just walked 5 of the last 6 miles with severe muscle tightness, etc.), I’d already made-up my mind that I was calling it quits (apparently 19 others dropped out as well, as only 36 people are listed on the race's website as having finished); I felt I would be ignoring the easily-recognizable signals my body was broadcasting if I continued on, and would really be setting myself up for injury (and an absolutely miserable cruise). My final tally: 26 miles in 4:24:29 (10:10 per-mile pace).
Things I learned, both about ultramarathon running and myself:
1.) Assumptions are for chumps—take the time to scope-out the course.
2.) I’m a flatlander, through and through. I’m really going to have to spend some time doing a fair amount of incline training in the future.
3.) I have a long ways to go with my fueling. I had way too little to eat and drink—I dropped about 5.5 pounds over the course of the race, in fact. Though I took my S! Caps and gels religiously, they are in no way a substitute for actual food, and I vastly underestimated how much water I needed to take in on such a hot, humid day.
4.) I should have walked far more and run far slower at the start, saving up valuable energy for when the sun was down and the temperatures far cooler.
Sure, I was disappointed that I didn’t finish the race (especially considering that the reasons primarily centered around my booby trapping myself), but was quite happy that I was able to reign myself in when I knew I needed to—knowing I am mentally strong enough to stop myself will go a long way in allowing me to be comfortable in signing up for further ultramarathons in the future.
Slotted in behind the eventual winner:
(Inadvertent?) Extreme Close-up:
My hard-working/eating/playing crew (though I can be a real bear, I truly do appreciate it!):
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie: MUCH MORE STUMBLE/SHUDDER THAN BOOGIE
Well, I toed the line for my first ultramarathon yesterday. I also got my first DNF (Did Not Finish). Lovely people, ice-cold water, and plenty to snack on to keep up your energy levels and weight. Horrid heat, tougher-than-imagined hills, and a poor race strategy (an overly-ambitious pace, developed/used by me). I made it 26 miles total, with much of the final 6 miles done at a walk. I was proud of myself for listening to my body and calling it quits before all my aching/pulled muscles and tendons decided to completely poop out (a technical term in a runner's lexicon) and fray/break/combust. It's all about planning and pacing with these lengthy races, so there's a definite learning curve. But I'll get there...eventually. A more offical race report to be provided after my cruise. Next up: Burning River (100 Mile Endurance Run)?
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Taperin' and Feelin' Ready
I’ve only run a touch over 32 miles this month, with only a couple more in store (tonight) before Saturday’s race—an effective, and much needed, tapering period. It’s funny to think that, in between now and Saturday, I’ll actually end up spending more time prepping than I will running (though I’ve got an exhaustive checklist I’ve been working on for the better part of two weeks, so this should help in mitigating too much time spent worrying/preparing, meaning I shan’t be spending too much time doing either). The guest bed has become the staging area for all my race-day gear, snacks, etc.—once I get it packed (or at least less “loose leaf”), I’ll likely turn the bed into a dual staging area: half a bed each for the race and cruise.
Using the #1 attachment (the shortest still-using-an-attachment haircut option), I cut my hair yesterday afternoon, so I’m feeling nice and fast (and aerodynamic). I also went grocery shopping and picked up a bunch of carb-heavy/runner-friendly meal fixins.
Last night’s dinner: whole wheat linguine mixed with bell pepper, tomatoes, squash, mushrooms, onion, and garlic in an olive oil sauce. Accompanied by freshly made, bread machine Oregano Bread.
Tonight’s dinner: broiled chicken, sweet potatoes, and freshly snapped green beans. Likely accompanied by more Oregano Bread.
My feet are blister-free, my legs are feeling more and more rested each day, and I’m thus-far feeling mentally strong. Calli (and I) say BRING IT ON (while at the same time being introspective, apparently), Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie!
Using the #1 attachment (the shortest still-using-an-attachment haircut option), I cut my hair yesterday afternoon, so I’m feeling nice and fast (and aerodynamic). I also went grocery shopping and picked up a bunch of carb-heavy/runner-friendly meal fixins.
Last night’s dinner: whole wheat linguine mixed with bell pepper, tomatoes, squash, mushrooms, onion, and garlic in an olive oil sauce. Accompanied by freshly made, bread machine Oregano Bread.
Tonight’s dinner: broiled chicken, sweet potatoes, and freshly snapped green beans. Likely accompanied by more Oregano Bread.
My feet are blister-free, my legs are feeling more and more rested each day, and I’m thus-far feeling mentally strong. Calli (and I) say BRING IT ON (while at the same time being introspective, apparently), Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie!
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Monthly Mileage, Bethel Hill Goals, and VACATION
Because I’ve never trained for/run an ultramarathon before, and because I shorted myself on some of the early mileage increases that would ready my body for bigger jumps in mileage than it’s used to, I’ve been reducing my overall weekly mileage requirements (either by skipping a shorter work out altogether, or by reducing a longer one slightly in length). Thus, my monthly mileage total for May stood at 199.3 miles, which is still over 40 miles more than my next highest total (but stands 40 miles less than what I had scheduled). And though hitting 200 miles would have been a nice, round number to have under my belt, I’m very pleased with how well my legs, mind, and stamina have been holding up (indeed, I had my best workout in recent weeks yesterday: a self-imposed nearly-4-mile speed work out). I.e. no regrets.
Only ten days out from the race itself (Saturday, June 12 at 6:00 PM EST), I’ve come up with a list of goals for myself—I’ve once again placed them in order of what I consider to be most easily achieved to most difficult:
1.) Walk occasionally—this will help to conserve energy for use later in the race. I’ve been practicing this in my weekly work outs.
2.) Fuel correctly—you’ve never run nearly this far, for nearly this long, so scheduling and getting enough fluids/foodstuffs into my maw is numero uno in importance.
3.) Listen to the aches and pains of my body—if I feel a hot spot forming somewhere, take the time to fix it ASAP. Doing so early on will end up saving me time in the long run.
4.) Finish in/under 7:00:00 (8:24 per-mile pace). This may not be realistic for a sea-level, first-timer on a rolling/hilly course, so I’ll be ok with anything under 7:30:00 (9:00 per-mile pace)…but I’d rather be “happy” than “ok” with my result. So 7:00:00 it is.
5.) The course record stands at 6:45:00 (8:06 per-mile pace). It’d sure be fun to challenge it.
Lastly, I’ll be cruising (literally, as in “on a large boat” and not “keeping a non-taxing, consistent pace”) the western Caribbean as a combination birthday/you-ran-50-miles-all-at-one-time present shortly after the completion of my race (departing out of Ft. Lauderdale on Monday, June 14, to return Saturday, June 19). A chart showing the appropriate dates is below, to ease in your understanding of my schedule.
This is all to say that I will give what will likely be an abbreviated race report on Sunday, June 13, with a lengthier one to follow after I return. But it was fun to rub-in my vacation, too.
Oh, and here’s the wolverine-inspired car I mentioned in my last post—I couldn’t pass up the chance to snap a camera-picture of it. Enjoy.
Only ten days out from the race itself (Saturday, June 12 at 6:00 PM EST), I’ve come up with a list of goals for myself—I’ve once again placed them in order of what I consider to be most easily achieved to most difficult:
1.) Walk occasionally—this will help to conserve energy for use later in the race. I’ve been practicing this in my weekly work outs.
2.) Fuel correctly—you’ve never run nearly this far, for nearly this long, so scheduling and getting enough fluids/foodstuffs into my maw is numero uno in importance.
3.) Listen to the aches and pains of my body—if I feel a hot spot forming somewhere, take the time to fix it ASAP. Doing so early on will end up saving me time in the long run.
4.) Finish in/under 7:00:00 (8:24 per-mile pace). This may not be realistic for a sea-level, first-timer on a rolling/hilly course, so I’ll be ok with anything under 7:30:00 (9:00 per-mile pace)…but I’d rather be “happy” than “ok” with my result. So 7:00:00 it is.
5.) The course record stands at 6:45:00 (8:06 per-mile pace). It’d sure be fun to challenge it.
Lastly, I’ll be cruising (literally, as in “on a large boat” and not “keeping a non-taxing, consistent pace”) the western Caribbean as a combination birthday/you-ran-50-miles-all-at-one-time present shortly after the completion of my race (departing out of Ft. Lauderdale on Monday, June 14, to return Saturday, June 19). A chart showing the appropriate dates is below, to ease in your understanding of my schedule.
This is all to say that I will give what will likely be an abbreviated race report on Sunday, June 13, with a lengthier one to follow after I return. But it was fun to rub-in my vacation, too.
Oh, and here’s the wolverine-inspired car I mentioned in my last post—I couldn’t pass up the chance to snap a camera-picture of it. Enjoy.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Cats, Ducks and Turtles (Oh My!)
Only when running will you see the following things within a two-week span:
1.) A cat being chased (and dive-bombed) by two birds
2.) A one-legged duck, hopping out of your path
3.) Three separate turtles in need of mid-street rescuing
4.) A cat romping through its yard…with a snake dangling out of its mouth
5.) A souped-up, bright blue/purple Buick with custom Wolverine-busting-out-of-the-paint job graphics on both the hood and side panels, along with a three tiered horn mounted on the front
Other observations from recent runs:
1.) I hated horseflies when I was a youngster at the local swimming hole. In the years since, they have done nothing to allay that feeling.
2.) Puppies are cute, even when they don’t listen to their shouting masters and run alongside you, yanking on your shoelaces.
And, from the “I could have told you that” file:
1.) Georgia heat/humidity is not what one would consider “ideal” for many-mile runs, no matter the hour you venture out (though it certainly helps to have a bike-with-a-large-basket riding mother that can tag along and tote much-needed fluid replacements from time to time).
Monthly mileage, to date: 140.44 miles, with a week and a half to go.
How I’m feeling:
Body: legs are decently, but not overly, tired
Mind: tired—I’ve got to work on getting to bed (and actually turning off the lights) earlier
Spirit: undaunted, and progressively getting more excited (so much so that, a week ago, it took me over an hour to get to sleep, due to thinking about the race; first time that’s ever happened a month out from an event)
Only 22 days until the big race.
1.) A cat being chased (and dive-bombed) by two birds
2.) A one-legged duck, hopping out of your path
3.) Three separate turtles in need of mid-street rescuing
4.) A cat romping through its yard…with a snake dangling out of its mouth
5.) A souped-up, bright blue/purple Buick with custom Wolverine-busting-out-of-the-paint job graphics on both the hood and side panels, along with a three tiered horn mounted on the front
Other observations from recent runs:
1.) I hated horseflies when I was a youngster at the local swimming hole. In the years since, they have done nothing to allay that feeling.
2.) Puppies are cute, even when they don’t listen to their shouting masters and run alongside you, yanking on your shoelaces.
And, from the “I could have told you that” file:
1.) Georgia heat/humidity is not what one would consider “ideal” for many-mile runs, no matter the hour you venture out (though it certainly helps to have a bike-with-a-large-basket riding mother that can tag along and tote much-needed fluid replacements from time to time).
Monthly mileage, to date: 140.44 miles, with a week and a half to go.
How I’m feeling:
Body: legs are decently, but not overly, tired
Mind: tired—I’ve got to work on getting to bed (and actually turning off the lights) earlier
Spirit: undaunted, and progressively getting more excited (so much so that, a week ago, it took me over an hour to get to sleep, due to thinking about the race; first time that’s ever happened a month out from an event)
Only 22 days until the big race.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Bethel Hill Preparation = Increased Leg Tiredness
My mileage total for April was 130.88 miles (compared to March’s 156.29 miles), which only makes sense when you figure in the fact that I took eight days off surrounding the Boston Marathon (3 days before and 5 days after). Ten days in to May, and I already stand at 77.35 miles for the month, thus it’s a pretty sure bet that I’ll “easily” surpass my highest-ever monthly mileage total (the aforementioned March tally). Why the apparent quick, steady ramp-up? To ready myself for The Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie, a rural, mid-June (June 12), mid-day (6:00 PM), bare bones 50-mile race (anything over the standard 26.2 miles is considered an ultramarathon) that features five all-paved, hilly repeats of a 6-mile loop and a 4-mile out-and-back (as always, click on the image below to enlarge).
How do you ready yourself for an ultra (especially one that is your first)? Carefully, and by practicing everything. “Everything” constitutes (in no order of importance):
1.) Walking occasionally. This allows your legs to get used to a slower-than-marathon pace, as well as to rest a bit. Perhaps more importantly, this allows you to grab a few, quick bites of something to eat. In a marathon, you can subsist on gels and replacement drink (Gatorade, Heed, etc.), but when you’re out on the course for no less than 6 hours, you need something a little more hearty.
2.) Taking electrolyte replacements. I’ve gone the S! Caps route, though I’ve read that nuun is another great option.
3.) Carrying hand-held bottles, one each of water and the already-discussed replacement drink. These bottles allow you access to a beverage whenever you require it, and are especially important in a race that will likely be quite humid, on a course that offers a single aid station. Hydration is key to keeping your muscles firing on all cylinders. My bottles also offer an added bonus: a handy, zippered pouch on them, which allows me easy access to gels, S! Caps, etc.
4.) Running with a headlamp. It’s going to be dark, there won’t be any streetlights, and I don’t have night vision.
5.) Liberally applying sunscreen. The more the sun gets through to you, the more it saps you of your strength/energy. And on a 3-hour training run, that account for a lot.
6.) Running more miles. In order to succeed in a race, your best bet is to train for what you’re racing. To ready myself for Boston, I made sure I tackled hill repeats from time to time, so that it wouldn’t be a shock to my system when I came upon them during the race. So for Bethel Hill, I’ve replaced my speed workouts with longer, slower mileage—if, after 49.9 miles I find myself sprinting to the tape with another runner, my body’s going to have to rely on muscle memory and sheer determination.
The training has been going really well thus far, despite the uptick in humidity/temperature. I sometimes feel that I’m walking (ok, running) a fine line between training correctly and overuse of already-tired legs, but I’m taking steps (or plan to, anyways) to combat that. These steps include:
1.) Ice baths
2.) Better stretching habits
3.) Better sleep habits
4.) Following my proposed workout schedule as closely as I can, but understanding that my body has the final call
How do you ready yourself for an ultra (especially one that is your first)? Carefully, and by practicing everything. “Everything” constitutes (in no order of importance):
1.) Walking occasionally. This allows your legs to get used to a slower-than-marathon pace, as well as to rest a bit. Perhaps more importantly, this allows you to grab a few, quick bites of something to eat. In a marathon, you can subsist on gels and replacement drink (Gatorade, Heed, etc.), but when you’re out on the course for no less than 6 hours, you need something a little more hearty.
2.) Taking electrolyte replacements. I’ve gone the S! Caps route, though I’ve read that nuun is another great option.
3.) Carrying hand-held bottles, one each of water and the already-discussed replacement drink. These bottles allow you access to a beverage whenever you require it, and are especially important in a race that will likely be quite humid, on a course that offers a single aid station. Hydration is key to keeping your muscles firing on all cylinders. My bottles also offer an added bonus: a handy, zippered pouch on them, which allows me easy access to gels, S! Caps, etc.
4.) Running with a headlamp. It’s going to be dark, there won’t be any streetlights, and I don’t have night vision.
5.) Liberally applying sunscreen. The more the sun gets through to you, the more it saps you of your strength/energy. And on a 3-hour training run, that account for a lot.
6.) Running more miles. In order to succeed in a race, your best bet is to train for what you’re racing. To ready myself for Boston, I made sure I tackled hill repeats from time to time, so that it wouldn’t be a shock to my system when I came upon them during the race. So for Bethel Hill, I’ve replaced my speed workouts with longer, slower mileage—if, after 49.9 miles I find myself sprinting to the tape with another runner, my body’s going to have to rely on muscle memory and sheer determination.
The training has been going really well thus far, despite the uptick in humidity/temperature. I sometimes feel that I’m walking (ok, running) a fine line between training correctly and overuse of already-tired legs, but I’m taking steps (or plan to, anyways) to combat that. These steps include:
1.) Ice baths
2.) Better stretching habits
3.) Better sleep habits
4.) Following my proposed workout schedule as closely as I can, but understanding that my body has the final call
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Boston Marathon Recap
Well, now I understand what all the hub-bub is about. The Boston Marathon = an absolute blast (usually—when you’re not hill-climbing-- during the actual run itself, but definitely during the pre and post-race festivities). Crowd support (it seemed the streets were lined with high-fiving toddlers and grannies alike the entire 26.2 miles) was unparalleled, the aid stations were plentiful and well-stocked, and the course was challenging, yet faster-than-expected. Throw in a pinch of near-perfect weather and a speck of general race day giddiness and I’m not sure I could have dreamt up a much better scenario.
Now to the particulars, as they pertain to me; below are the mile splits I took during the course of the race. Due to my inability to accurately stop my watch for each split, these should be taken with a grain of salt (i.e. add or subtract a second or two here and there, though added together they do equal my official time).
Mile 1: 6:23
Mile 2: 6:11
Mile 3: 6:10
Mile 4: 6:13
Mile 5: 6:28
Mile 6: 6:20
Mile 7: 6:20
Mile 8: 6:32
Mile 9: 6:33
Mile 10: 6:41
Mile 11: 6:39
Mile 12: 6:28
Mile 13: 6:31
Mile 14: 6:36
Mile 15: 6:50
Miles 16-18: 20:28 (this averages out to 6:49 pace)
Mile 19: 6:50
Mile 20: 7:10
Mile 21: 7:27 (this is the mile that features Heartbreak Hill)
Mile 22: 6:55
Mile 23: 7:12
Mile 24: 6:44
Mile 25: 6:59
Mile 26 (+ 0.2-mile): 8:04
Total: 2:54:44 (average pace = 6:40)
And here’s how I did on my goals:
1.) HAVE FUN. It took a lot of guts—miles, time, energy, money, etc.—to get here, so just toeing the line should be smile-inducing in itself - CHECK
2.) Finish strong—the wall’s going to be there eventually, so find a way to get over, around or through it as quickly as possible - CHECK
3.) I’m seeded #1890, which means I’m supposedly slower than 1,889 people. Try and finish in the top 1,500 – CHECK (I finished as #787 overall)
4.) Keep your sub-3:00:00 streak intact—a tall, hilly order, but your legs haven’t endured all of those hump-bridge sprints for nothing – CHECK, though I feel a few more hump-bridge sprints may have been in order
5.) Set a new marathon PR (Personal Record)—that means under 2:53:40. Not realistic, but neither was my running marathons a little over a year ago – CLOSE (56 second off)
A heartfelt THANK YOU goes out to everyone that Buzz’ed, texted, and emailed their well-wishes/congrats, with an added “I couldn’t have done it without you” to Stink Bottom, Little Tip, Charles River and Jeremy for their unconditional support throughout.
And now, on to the pictures (click on any you'd like to enlarge):
Ryan Hall came before me...
...as did Meb...
...and eventual women's winner Erkesso
Keeping up "I'm having a good time" appearances
Am I out of camera range yet? Smiling uses up too much energy....
Brunch: Gatorade, gel and a finisher's medal
Next up: The Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie, a 50-miler on 6/12. More on that (my thoughts on training, mileage requirements, etc.) in short order.
Now to the particulars, as they pertain to me; below are the mile splits I took during the course of the race. Due to my inability to accurately stop my watch for each split, these should be taken with a grain of salt (i.e. add or subtract a second or two here and there, though added together they do equal my official time).
Mile 1: 6:23
Mile 2: 6:11
Mile 3: 6:10
Mile 4: 6:13
Mile 5: 6:28
Mile 6: 6:20
Mile 7: 6:20
Mile 8: 6:32
Mile 9: 6:33
Mile 10: 6:41
Mile 11: 6:39
Mile 12: 6:28
Mile 13: 6:31
Mile 14: 6:36
Mile 15: 6:50
Miles 16-18: 20:28 (this averages out to 6:49 pace)
Mile 19: 6:50
Mile 20: 7:10
Mile 21: 7:27 (this is the mile that features Heartbreak Hill)
Mile 22: 6:55
Mile 23: 7:12
Mile 24: 6:44
Mile 25: 6:59
Mile 26 (+ 0.2-mile): 8:04
Total: 2:54:44 (average pace = 6:40)
And here’s how I did on my goals:
1.) HAVE FUN. It took a lot of guts—miles, time, energy, money, etc.—to get here, so just toeing the line should be smile-inducing in itself - CHECK
2.) Finish strong—the wall’s going to be there eventually, so find a way to get over, around or through it as quickly as possible - CHECK
3.) I’m seeded #1890, which means I’m supposedly slower than 1,889 people. Try and finish in the top 1,500 – CHECK (I finished as #787 overall)
4.) Keep your sub-3:00:00 streak intact—a tall, hilly order, but your legs haven’t endured all of those hump-bridge sprints for nothing – CHECK, though I feel a few more hump-bridge sprints may have been in order
5.) Set a new marathon PR (Personal Record)—that means under 2:53:40. Not realistic, but neither was my running marathons a little over a year ago – CLOSE (56 second off)
A heartfelt THANK YOU goes out to everyone that Buzz’ed, texted, and emailed their well-wishes/congrats, with an added “I couldn’t have done it without you” to Stink Bottom, Little Tip, Charles River and Jeremy for their unconditional support throughout.
And now, on to the pictures (click on any you'd like to enlarge):
Ryan Hall came before me...
...as did Meb...
...and eventual women's winner Erkesso
Keeping up "I'm having a good time" appearances
Am I out of camera range yet? Smiling uses up too much energy....
Brunch: Gatorade, gel and a finisher's medal
Next up: The Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie, a 50-miler on 6/12. More on that (my thoughts on training, mileage requirements, etc.) in short order.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
List Day
It appears this will be a post comprised almost entirely of lists. So, without further ado:
Well, only four more days until B-Day. Flying out nice and early tomorrow, with what seems like a million things to do (dog depositing, one last run, packing, etc.) in between now and then. But they’ll get done, likely due to the extra bit of pep in my step.
And speaking of my additional vim and vigor, I feel it’s important (in any race) to stay positive before, during, AND after said race. And the best way I’ve found to do so, being the spirited sort I am, is to set various goals for a race, so that I have both something to shoot for (appeasing my competitive side), while at the same time insuring that I can be happy/proud of my result. My goals for the Boston Marathon (in order of increasing difficulty):
1.) HAVE FUN. It took a lot of guts—miles, time, energy, money, etc.—to get here, so just toeing the line should be smile-inducing in itself
2.) Finish strong—the wall’s going to be there eventually, so find a way to get over, around or through it as quickly as possible
3.) I’m seeded #1890, which means I’m supposedly slower than 1,889 people. Try and finish in the top 1,500
4.) Keep your sub-3:00:00 streak intact—a tall, hilly order, but your legs haven’t endured all of those hump-bridge sprints for nothing
5.) Set a new marathon PR (Personal Record)—that means under 2:53:40. Not realistic, but neither was my running marathons a little over a year ago
Despite the weather (supposedly rainy every day, with race day temps of 55/40), I plan to make the most of my trip to Boston and do the following whilst there (you didn’t think I was only going up to Mass. To run, did you?!):
1.) Tour of the Sam Adams Brewery (4/17)
2.) 7:10 PM EST Red Sox vs. Rays game (4/17)
3.) Visitation of Mike’s Bakery
4.) General strolling about the city (Boston Common, etc.), with a likely focus on eateries
Today’s my last day of running (having only put in 11.84 miles since Monday), prior to Monday’s 26.2—just a few easy miles, to limber up the legs (and mind). Then it’s rest, rest, rest (of the legs, not the mind).
And to finish up this list-related email, here’s a schedule of the miles I’ll be putting in leading up to my next race (and first 50-miler), The Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie (click to enlarge):
On that note, I'll leave you with an ever-so-appropriate song, which just so happens to be a new addition to my training soundtrack:
Well, only four more days until B-Day. Flying out nice and early tomorrow, with what seems like a million things to do (dog depositing, one last run, packing, etc.) in between now and then. But they’ll get done, likely due to the extra bit of pep in my step.
And speaking of my additional vim and vigor, I feel it’s important (in any race) to stay positive before, during, AND after said race. And the best way I’ve found to do so, being the spirited sort I am, is to set various goals for a race, so that I have both something to shoot for (appeasing my competitive side), while at the same time insuring that I can be happy/proud of my result. My goals for the Boston Marathon (in order of increasing difficulty):
1.) HAVE FUN. It took a lot of guts—miles, time, energy, money, etc.—to get here, so just toeing the line should be smile-inducing in itself
2.) Finish strong—the wall’s going to be there eventually, so find a way to get over, around or through it as quickly as possible
3.) I’m seeded #1890, which means I’m supposedly slower than 1,889 people. Try and finish in the top 1,500
4.) Keep your sub-3:00:00 streak intact—a tall, hilly order, but your legs haven’t endured all of those hump-bridge sprints for nothing
5.) Set a new marathon PR (Personal Record)—that means under 2:53:40. Not realistic, but neither was my running marathons a little over a year ago
Despite the weather (supposedly rainy every day, with race day temps of 55/40), I plan to make the most of my trip to Boston and do the following whilst there (you didn’t think I was only going up to Mass. To run, did you?!):
1.) Tour of the Sam Adams Brewery (4/17)
2.) 7:10 PM EST Red Sox vs. Rays game (4/17)
3.) Visitation of Mike’s Bakery
4.) General strolling about the city (Boston Common, etc.), with a likely focus on eateries
Today’s my last day of running (having only put in 11.84 miles since Monday), prior to Monday’s 26.2—just a few easy miles, to limber up the legs (and mind). Then it’s rest, rest, rest (of the legs, not the mind).
And to finish up this list-related email, here’s a schedule of the miles I’ll be putting in leading up to my next race (and first 50-miler), The Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie (click to enlarge):
On that note, I'll leave you with an ever-so-appropriate song, which just so happens to be a new addition to my training soundtrack:
Monday, April 12, 2010
Deliciously Disjointed
I plan for this blog to be very disjointed. You have been forewarned.
A week from today, as I write this, I’ll be running the Boston Marathon. I’ve been pretty relaxed about the whole thing (I keep telling myself “you’ve got some important training in between now and then” and “there’s so much still to do—work, packing, etc.--in between now and then”), but with only a week to go, am finding it progressively harder to remain so. BOSTON OR BUST!
And in case you didn’t believe my tale of increased excitement, no one in an unexcited state would write-up a meal plan, through Friday morning, for the week (click on the image below to expand it):
Let it be known that I’m fairly certain I will “ruin” all this healthy eating once I’m left to my own devices in the big city, but hey...a few days are better than nothing!
My pup Calli suffered an occurrence of what they call “old dog” vestibular disease (which would be like a severe inner ear infection in humans—up is down, left is right…and stairs are level with the rest of the floor) on Friday evening. I’ll spare you the gory details (bloody walls, gator-rolling and crazy, bugged-out, strafing eyes), but suffice to say, I thought I’d be running Boston in remembrance of her. But after a 48-hour stay at the emergency vet, I was able to take my still-wobbly pup home. She’s a very bruised, seemingly very drunk 9-year old dog…but she’s my very bruised, seemingly very drunk 9-year old dog. And Boston will be run in honor, not remembrance, of her—Calli didn’t give up, and neither will I!
Miles tally since last we “spoke”:
Monday: 5.05 miles in 37:28 (7:25 pace)
Tuesday: 4.62 miles in 31:32. 1.55-mile warm-up in 11:57 and a 1.71-mile cool-down in 13:22, with 8 x hill (0.17-mile), including 3 downhill, in between. My hill splits were: #1--0:53, #2--0:51, #3--0:41--downhill), #4--0:49, #5--0:42 (downhill), $6--0:48, #7--0:41 (downhill), #8--0:48.
Wednesday: 5.01 miles in 35:28 (7:05 pace)
Thursday: 6.1-mile tempo run in 44:18 (7:16 pace)
Friday: REST
Saturday: 5.9 miles total. Ran a 0.95-mile warm-up (7:48) and cool-down (7:33) with 4 miles at race pace (6:34 per) in between
Sunday: 7 mile run (48:31; 6:56 pace) + 3 mile fast bike ride
Weekly Total: 33.68 miles
Lastly, I submitted my entry into my first-ever Ultra Marathon last Friday--The Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie (http://www.theboogieraces.com/BOOGIEINFOPAGE.html). Both the regular (26.2 miles) and ultra (50 miles, in this case) varietals are offered on this hilly stretch of road, and I’ll be participating in the latter. Join me on Saturday, June 12 at 6:00 PM EST in Ellerbe, NC (just over 4 hours away from Savannah) if you’re interested. More about this race in the coming weeks.
(I’ll get a post-sickness picture posted yet this week).
A week from today, as I write this, I’ll be running the Boston Marathon. I’ve been pretty relaxed about the whole thing (I keep telling myself “you’ve got some important training in between now and then” and “there’s so much still to do—work, packing, etc.--in between now and then”), but with only a week to go, am finding it progressively harder to remain so. BOSTON OR BUST!
And in case you didn’t believe my tale of increased excitement, no one in an unexcited state would write-up a meal plan, through Friday morning, for the week (click on the image below to expand it):
Let it be known that I’m fairly certain I will “ruin” all this healthy eating once I’m left to my own devices in the big city, but hey...a few days are better than nothing!
My pup Calli suffered an occurrence of what they call “old dog” vestibular disease (which would be like a severe inner ear infection in humans—up is down, left is right…and stairs are level with the rest of the floor) on Friday evening. I’ll spare you the gory details (bloody walls, gator-rolling and crazy, bugged-out, strafing eyes), but suffice to say, I thought I’d be running Boston in remembrance of her. But after a 48-hour stay at the emergency vet, I was able to take my still-wobbly pup home. She’s a very bruised, seemingly very drunk 9-year old dog…but she’s my very bruised, seemingly very drunk 9-year old dog. And Boston will be run in honor, not remembrance, of her—Calli didn’t give up, and neither will I!
Miles tally since last we “spoke”:
Monday: 5.05 miles in 37:28 (7:25 pace)
Tuesday: 4.62 miles in 31:32. 1.55-mile warm-up in 11:57 and a 1.71-mile cool-down in 13:22, with 8 x hill (0.17-mile), including 3 downhill, in between. My hill splits were: #1--0:53, #2--0:51, #3--0:41--downhill), #4--0:49, #5--0:42 (downhill), $6--0:48, #7--0:41 (downhill), #8--0:48.
Wednesday: 5.01 miles in 35:28 (7:05 pace)
Thursday: 6.1-mile tempo run in 44:18 (7:16 pace)
Friday: REST
Saturday: 5.9 miles total. Ran a 0.95-mile warm-up (7:48) and cool-down (7:33) with 4 miles at race pace (6:34 per) in between
Sunday: 7 mile run (48:31; 6:56 pace) + 3 mile fast bike ride
Weekly Total: 33.68 miles
Lastly, I submitted my entry into my first-ever Ultra Marathon last Friday--The Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie (http://www.theboogieraces.com/BOOGIEINFOPAGE.html). Both the regular (26.2 miles) and ultra (50 miles, in this case) varietals are offered on this hilly stretch of road, and I’ll be participating in the latter. Join me on Saturday, June 12 at 6:00 PM EST in Ellerbe, NC (just over 4 hours away from Savannah) if you’re interested. More about this race in the coming weeks.
(I’ll get a post-sickness picture posted yet this week).
Monday, April 5, 2010
Twenty-thousand, One Hundred Sixty Minutes
Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred thirty-six hours. I won’t go as far as minutes, because this has already become annoying enough. Anywho, no matter which time breakdown you select, that’s how long I have left until race day. Boston Marathon race day, that is.
Thursday, March 25: 8.1 miles in 1:00:00 (7:24 pace)
Friday, March 26: 5.25 miles in 32:03 (ran a 0.75-mile warm-up in 6:20 and a 0.5-mile cool-down in 4:24, with 8 x 800 in between. My splits were: #1--2:43, #2--2:39, #3--2:37, #4--2:40, #5--2:41, #6--2:43, #7--2:41, #8--2:36.
Saturday, March 27: REST
Sunday, March 28: 20.29 miles in 2:34:47 (7:38 pace)
Monday, March 29: REST
Tuesday, March 30: 6.9 miles in 48:13 (ran a 0.95-mile warm-up in 7:42 and a 0.95-mile cool-down in 7:40, with 5 miles at pace--32:51; 6:34 pace).
Wednesday, March 31: 5.24 miles in 39:18 (7:30 pace)
March mileage total: 156.29 miles (and just over 19-hours of my life)
Thursday, April 1: 5.99 miles in 43:10 (7:12 pace)
Friday, April 2: REST
Saturday, April 3: 6.4 miles in 47:51 (7:29 pace)
Sunday, April 4: 14.11 miles in 1:44:12 (7:23 pace)
Random thoughts/observations:
1.) Bowling with your 91-year-old grandmother is quite a bit of fun. She probably would have enjoyed it more herself if she’d been able to pick up a few more spares.
2.) Super Mario Bros. for the Wii is starting to grow on me—I like how cutthroat it is.
3.) The weather couldn’t be much nicer—a bit hot for a long run, but definitely nice on the eyes.
4.) Opening Day (Baseball) is finally here. GO REDS (who are currently losing to the St. Louis Cardinals, 6-3)!
5.) HAPPY EASTER to you all, from Calli and me—I hope you got plenty of gut-busting candies, and she hopes you got plenty of sleep.
Thursday, March 25: 8.1 miles in 1:00:00 (7:24 pace)
Friday, March 26: 5.25 miles in 32:03 (ran a 0.75-mile warm-up in 6:20 and a 0.5-mile cool-down in 4:24, with 8 x 800 in between. My splits were: #1--2:43, #2--2:39, #3--2:37, #4--2:40, #5--2:41, #6--2:43, #7--2:41, #8--2:36.
Saturday, March 27: REST
Sunday, March 28: 20.29 miles in 2:34:47 (7:38 pace)
Monday, March 29: REST
Tuesday, March 30: 6.9 miles in 48:13 (ran a 0.95-mile warm-up in 7:42 and a 0.95-mile cool-down in 7:40, with 5 miles at pace--32:51; 6:34 pace).
Wednesday, March 31: 5.24 miles in 39:18 (7:30 pace)
March mileage total: 156.29 miles (and just over 19-hours of my life)
Thursday, April 1: 5.99 miles in 43:10 (7:12 pace)
Friday, April 2: REST
Saturday, April 3: 6.4 miles in 47:51 (7:29 pace)
Sunday, April 4: 14.11 miles in 1:44:12 (7:23 pace)
Random thoughts/observations:
1.) Bowling with your 91-year-old grandmother is quite a bit of fun. She probably would have enjoyed it more herself if she’d been able to pick up a few more spares.
2.) Super Mario Bros. for the Wii is starting to grow on me—I like how cutthroat it is.
3.) The weather couldn’t be much nicer—a bit hot for a long run, but definitely nice on the eyes.
4.) Opening Day (Baseball) is finally here. GO REDS (who are currently losing to the St. Louis Cardinals, 6-3)!
5.) HAPPY EASTER to you all, from Calli and me—I hope you got plenty of gut-busting candies, and she hopes you got plenty of sleep.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
A New "Name" for Chris
Bib #1890.
It’s been quite some time since I last blogged—a full week and a half, to be more definitive. During that time I finished up the editing project (sans any revisions the author might send my way) I’d previously mentioned, but that definitely didn’t preclude me from visiting Blogland, at least briefly. Rather, I simply didn’t have anything “newsworthy” to which to speak. That’s all changed now. Now that I have my shiny new, official Boston Marathon designation, that is. On April 19, 2010 (25 DAYS FROM NOW!) at approximately 10:00 AM EST, #1890 will be toeing (from a coral approximately 50 yards back, I’d guesstimate) the starting line with just over 25,000 (or 26,000…or 27,000) of my “closest friends.” Also, the fine people at the Boston Marathon have enabled fans to track their runners without having to park their keisters in front of a computer monitor for hours on end—instead, they can receive progress-related texts periodically (at important points throughout the race) concerning their runner(s). Simply send the word RUNNER to 31901 using your cell phone, to which you will receive a text response with instructions on how to submit a runner's bib number. OR you can register for the same thing via email (again, to receive text messages) by visiting the following link: http://registration.baa.org/2010/cf/RegAthleteAlert/pg_AthleteAlert.cfm?mode=entry
The crucial junctures you’ll be contacted for:
Starting line (what time the runner actually crosses it, officially putting them “on the clock”)
10K
Half-Marathon
30K
Finish
And because I recognize you’re dying to know, I’ll get you caught up on my workouts since last we “spoke”:
Monday, 3/15 – 5.13 miles in 38:16 (7:28 pace)
Tuesday, 3/16 - REST
Wednesday, 3/17 – 5.95 miles in 45:31 (7:39 pace)
Thursday, 3/18 – Ran 4.45 total miles in 29:08 (6:33 pace). This was comprised of a 1.55-mile warm-up (11:30) and a 1.71-mile cool-down (12:17), with 7 x hill (0.17-mile), including 3 downhill. My hill splits were: #1--0:49, #2--0:43 (downhill), #3--0:49, #4--0:42 (downhill), #5--0:47, $6--0:42 (downhill), #7--0:49.
Friday, 3/19 – 4.25 miles in 31:41 (7:27 pace)
Saturday, 3/20 – 3.87 miles in 28:10 (7:17 pace)
Sunday, 3/21 – 7.99 miles in 59:35 (7:27 pace)
Monday, 3/22 - REST
Tuesday, 3/23 – Ran 16.59 miles (as part of a 3/1 run) in 2:01:36 (7:20 pace)
Wednesday, 3/24 – 4.15 miles in 31:13 (7:31 pace)
And here’s an acapella version of one of my favorite songs, both for running and general enjoyment (thanks, Joey!):
It’s been quite some time since I last blogged—a full week and a half, to be more definitive. During that time I finished up the editing project (sans any revisions the author might send my way) I’d previously mentioned, but that definitely didn’t preclude me from visiting Blogland, at least briefly. Rather, I simply didn’t have anything “newsworthy” to which to speak. That’s all changed now. Now that I have my shiny new, official Boston Marathon designation, that is. On April 19, 2010 (25 DAYS FROM NOW!) at approximately 10:00 AM EST, #1890 will be toeing (from a coral approximately 50 yards back, I’d guesstimate) the starting line with just over 25,000 (or 26,000…or 27,000) of my “closest friends.” Also, the fine people at the Boston Marathon have enabled fans to track their runners without having to park their keisters in front of a computer monitor for hours on end—instead, they can receive progress-related texts periodically (at important points throughout the race) concerning their runner(s). Simply send the word RUNNER to 31901 using your cell phone, to which you will receive a text response with instructions on how to submit a runner's bib number. OR you can register for the same thing via email (again, to receive text messages) by visiting the following link: http://registration.baa.org/2010/cf/RegAthleteAlert/pg_AthleteAlert.cfm?mode=entry
The crucial junctures you’ll be contacted for:
Starting line (what time the runner actually crosses it, officially putting them “on the clock”)
10K
Half-Marathon
30K
Finish
And because I recognize you’re dying to know, I’ll get you caught up on my workouts since last we “spoke”:
Monday, 3/15 – 5.13 miles in 38:16 (7:28 pace)
Tuesday, 3/16 - REST
Wednesday, 3/17 – 5.95 miles in 45:31 (7:39 pace)
Thursday, 3/18 – Ran 4.45 total miles in 29:08 (6:33 pace). This was comprised of a 1.55-mile warm-up (11:30) and a 1.71-mile cool-down (12:17), with 7 x hill (0.17-mile), including 3 downhill. My hill splits were: #1--0:49, #2--0:43 (downhill), #3--0:49, #4--0:42 (downhill), #5--0:47, $6--0:42 (downhill), #7--0:49.
Friday, 3/19 – 4.25 miles in 31:41 (7:27 pace)
Saturday, 3/20 – 3.87 miles in 28:10 (7:17 pace)
Sunday, 3/21 – 7.99 miles in 59:35 (7:27 pace)
Monday, 3/22 - REST
Tuesday, 3/23 – Ran 16.59 miles (as part of a 3/1 run) in 2:01:36 (7:20 pace)
Wednesday, 3/24 – 4.15 miles in 31:13 (7:31 pace)
And here’s an acapella version of one of my favorite songs, both for running and general enjoyment (thanks, Joey!):
Monday, March 15, 2010
Contentment Through Failure
Well, I didn’t finish first in the Shamrock 5k…but I did finish third overall with my fastest time (16:23; 5:17 pace) from the last couple of years, so I’m altogether happy with my output. Could I have run faster? I’m sure. But I learned long ago that in running, there is generally something regarding your result about which you can be pleased. And on Friday, I had a good time (both on the clock and in my head) and the legs felt good after. Next race: The Boston Marathon.
It’s a mad dash to get to the race’s first turn…
…after which most everyone realized that I’m faster than them.
Also, I ran 21.07 miles in 2:38:14 (7:31 pace) on Sunday.
It’s a mad dash to get to the race’s first turn…
…after which most everyone realized that I’m faster than them.
Also, I ran 21.07 miles in 2:38:14 (7:31 pace) on Sunday.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Shamrock 5k and Motivated Push-ups
Shamrock 5k today. It’s supposed to be pretty ugly out—70-75% chance for rain starting anytime now, and lasting throughout the evening (with sporadic thunderstorms beginning at/around 5:00 PM EST). The race itself begins at 6:00 PM EST. Fun stuff. Anyone that knows how susceptible to flooding downtown Savannah is will recognize that runners may need to become small craft boaters at some juncture during the run; I will hope that someone is just in front of me, affording me the opportunity to tether myself to them and use my ski-feet, both saving me energy and wearing them down.
Though I’d seen it before, I got particularly jazzed about the video/song below (the song is Ali in the Jungle by The Hours) Wednesday evening and knocked out 45 push-ups in short order—not something altogether wise when I’ve not been doing any at all, so suffice to say I’m a little tender in the abdominal and underarm/wing area. You probably didn’t even read that last portion of the sentence, because you were too busy knocking out your own push-ups, weren’t you? That’s how motivational that song is. Anywho, the song reinforced my already-pretty-strong belief that I’ll be running an ultra marathon later this year (barring injury), the training for which will begin shortly after I’ve completed the Boston Marathon. The two I’m currently considering (especially the latter one):
Nashville Ultra Marathon
North Coast 24-Hour Endurance Run
More on these at a later date.
Though I’d seen it before, I got particularly jazzed about the video/song below (the song is Ali in the Jungle by The Hours) Wednesday evening and knocked out 45 push-ups in short order—not something altogether wise when I’ve not been doing any at all, so suffice to say I’m a little tender in the abdominal and underarm/wing area. You probably didn’t even read that last portion of the sentence, because you were too busy knocking out your own push-ups, weren’t you? That’s how motivational that song is. Anywho, the song reinforced my already-pretty-strong belief that I’ll be running an ultra marathon later this year (barring injury), the training for which will begin shortly after I’ve completed the Boston Marathon. The two I’m currently considering (especially the latter one):
Nashville Ultra Marathon
North Coast 24-Hour Endurance Run
More on these at a later date.
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