I much prefer to have really good races. I like to be in good shape, be well, be rested, and go out and just crush it.
Then there are days like today.
The Boogie start time was 0900, but for all practical purposes, my race started at 0645. I sat down to relieve myself, and decided I'd blow my nose (I know, TMI). It was a little crusty up there from sleep, and I wasn't really thinking, so I gave it a little poke (I'm not ashamed to admit it), which dislodged whatever was there. And immediately my nose started to bleed.
I've had nose bleeds. Ever since my nose got broken in college playing deck hockey, the nose has been a little flaky. But this was unusual. Blood started pouring out my nose. I was pretty disappointed. I'd given myself a good half hour to get ready, and I spent all of it and another 15 minutes trying to get the nose bleed to stop.
I wasn't panicked. At this point it wasn't worry about whether I could race, but whether I could just get it to stop because hey, a guy with blood all over his face and in his goatee is gross. I piled my son in the car, grabbed a roll of paper towels, and explained to him why I had paper stuck in my nose (which I needed to change about once a minute).
I thought at one point on the way to the race I had it stopped, but no...
I got to the race and it was kind of like a gusher. To the point where it was freaking people out, they were telling me to go to the hospital. I couldn't stop it- there was blood all over me, all over the ground outside my car
Long story short, this is not how you want your race prep to go. Michael D'Addetta gets credit for keeping me calm. He said the same thing happened to him, he finally got something frozen up in his nose. Someone gave me some Aquaphor, which is just basically vasoline and that really seemed to slow things to a trickle.
At least Robert Bove, a friend of mine who I'd signed up for the race and brought a bike to race on, listened to my advice to stop worrying about me and start getting used to this bike he'd never been on. The last thing I wanted to be was a distraction.
Finally at twenty to nine I decided to run half a mile and see if started to gush again. It did not. So I did some strides and shut everything out. I would either be OK or I wouldn't.
The first run started out and I settled in to around seventh place and then moved up into fifth by a mile in. My nose was still bleeding but nothing bad. I was right where I wanted to be, I felt fine. I knew if I got through the first mile and didn't feel dizzy I would be fine.
I ran back into transition and hopped on the bike and passed one guy right away. The early part of the course is technical because the sand has clogged the paths after the storms, fine beach sand. I overcooked a turn and nearly ate a tree, and then soon after I got passed. I waited for the road section and when I got there I opened it up and got down on the aero bars and just hammered at 21 mph, which is what I do at this race. My nose had go back to a free flow of blood. I just kept blowing it out or wiping it on my arm warmers. My face was caked with it.
I made it through the whole first loop and the dodgy part of the second and to be honest I thought I had it made. Not only was I holding fifth place, but I had opened up a gap on the people behind me.
1.5 miles from transition (I measured it when I was helping to break down the course after the race), I took a stick up into my drive chain. I powered through it and my reward was a shredded derailleur hanger. I looked down at the bike, hopped off, and started running. I was on a very back section of the course with no one around me, but all I could think was 'I have to run as fast as I can'.
This was the real moment of the race. I honestly had lost at least a pint of blood, probably more, but that was not even a consideration. I'd wrecked my bike and that wasn't a consideration. It was how fast can I run in my bike shoes while pushing my bike. My friend Charlie went by me, knowing exactly what had happened and he said 'Bad Luck'. The first woman went by me. I kept running. I got passed 6 or 7 more times, but one stands out.
After I'd been running for a mile I came to a turn, I cut inside the flags to stay out of people's way, but one guy tried to cut the turn on the same angle as me- I was pushing the bike on the right side of my body. He hit me.
He didn't go down. I went over my handlebars and landed on my elbow and hip.
Think about this. I was running in a straight line and ended up going over the handlebars.
Sigh.
I got back up and keep running. One guy went by me and said 'Way to stay with it Starbuck.' That would have been all the motivation I needed.
I finished my second bike, changed my shoes, and ran down three people, one just out of transition.
This is how it's supposed to be, me closing people out.
I still finished 10th and 3rd in my age group and Charlie Hornak got a much deserved win. And Bove won his age group in his first race.
It wasn't a day where things really went my way. At the same time, I stayed focused on the race, the whole race. Adversity came knocking. I decided not to answer.
The big kudos still go to Robert Bove- winning his age group in his first duathlon. And his goal was to not finish last. How awesome is that?
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Thursday, March 07, 2013
Two Threshold Tests
This morning I did a threshold test on the bike. I'd done my last one on January 10th, almost 2 months ago and it didn't exactly go the way I wanted. The end result was pretty good, with a peak HR of around 170, but the 20 minute time trial was basically a steady, and slow build from 140HR. It was a great workout, but not exactly what was intended, and it was pretty clear why- the opening segment, the warm-up, I followed the workout I had, but just didn't really get my HR where it needs to be.
I knew I wanted to do a threshold test to do again today, so I decided to wear my heart rate monitor at a 5K and see if I could engineer a better threshold test. For a typical 5K I run about a 1 mile warmup and then start doing strides, maybe 8-10 of them, running out from the starting line for about 10 seconds at above race pace, walking back, resetting. It's part ritual, part staking out the best line, part warming up.
Some people question 'wasting' that energy. Why would you expend a faster than race pace effort right before a race? I think this comes from a fallacy that you can somehow magically burn 100% of your energy during the 5k- it would be awesome if you could, of course, but it doesn't work that way. It's actually a great way to open up the cardiovascular system and the muscles. It also lets your opponents know you're serious.
Notice the spikes into the 140s from a standing HR below 100. That's a good target for me, 140 peak then a nice drop. Rinse, repeat.
On to the race.
Now, it's hard to tell from the image, but it took me a full three minutes from the start of the race to reach an HR of 160, after which I held above 160 the rest of the race and averaged 162 with a peak of 169. Does that mean I was slacking in the first three minutes? No. I ran my fastest mile, around 5:50, in the first mile. The first mile is always the fastest. I try to get out ahead of comparable athletes and then hold them off. I don't go nuts, but I do start strong and finish on strength, not speed. So that just indicates my heart rate does not immediately spike out- which is good.
Two takeaways from the 5K. I had to attack the warm-up for the threshold test more aggressively. If I was using the gears and achieving the cadence intended and getting only an HR of 120, I needed to push harder and get the same kind of HR I was seeing doing my strides before the 5K. My goal- a much flatter curve on my threshold test.
Well, the curve is a lot flatter. So, is that mission accomplished - did I get a better threshold test ? I'd say the answer is yes. The truth is, I hit the same terminal heart rate in both workouts, indicating that 166-167 upper ceiling is just that. But in the first workout I had to drive myself the entire 20 minutes to reach that level, whereas in the second test, I actually reached a 150+HR in about 4 minutes, similar to the 5K. So it was a better test of my threshold, because of just reaching a terminal HR, I actually maintained that HR for a long period.
But how do I know that's the case? If you look at the short effort after the end of the 20 minute threshold- it's the same workout, and those are three short 20 second sprint efforts- the HR curve is identical.
Lesson: Warm up hard before a TT. But you probably knew that.
Sunday, November 04, 2012
Why I'll never run the NYC Marathon
Wow. Let me say this after reading the email letter from the NYRR (below, from the Gothamist at http://gothamist.com/2012/11/03/nyrr_blames_marathon_cancellation_o.php) about canceling the NYC Marathon. I will never run the race as long as they are in charge of it:
Letter from the New York Road Runners:
It is with heavy hearts that we share the news that the 2012 ING New York City Marathon has been canceled.
The decision was made after it became increasingly apparent that the people of our city and the surrounding tri-state area were still struggling to recover from the damage wrought by the recent extreme weather conditions. That struggle, fueled by the resulting extensive and growing media coverage antagonistic to the marathon and its participants, created conditions that raised concern for the safety of both those working to produce the event and its participants. While holding the race would not have required diverting resources from the recovery effort, it became clear that the apparent widespread perception to the contrary had become the source of controversy and division. Neither NYRR nor the City could allow a controversy over the marathon to result in a dangerous situation or to distract attention from all the critically important work that is being done to help New York City recover from the storm.
NYRR, in partnership with the Rudin Family and the ING Foundation, has established the "Race to Recover" Marathon Fund to aid New Yorkers impacted by the storm. Over $2.6 million has been raised, including a $1 million donation by NYRR. We are asking you to join us by making a $26.20 donation, or whatever you can afford, to help bring recovery and hope to those communities and families most affected. Proceeds will go to Hurricane Sandy Relief, administered by the Mayor's Fund to Advance New York City. You can also donate to the relief effort through NYRR's fundraising platform, CrowdRise, which includes the American Red Cross and other charities.
NYRR will redeploy the marathon resources and materials toward the recovery effort. We will share the details of this project as they are finalized in the days ahead.
We all recognize this has been a very challenging time in New York City that has impacted so many people, including you, our runners. Please know that this is one of the toughest decisions we have ever made, and that we deeply appreciate your support.
My take: Two things here- the resources being used and reserved for the marathon (including desperately needed generators and gasoline) were by default not being used for the recovery effort. And blaming the media for basically asking a very common sense question that was not antagonistic is- wow.
When John Hirsch wrote a note explaining his reasoning for the race going on, it really gave me pause. He was talking about charity and things like that and I thought 'maybe I'm looking at this the wrong way thinking the race should be cancelled'.
Then I read this letter. I was ready to hold NYRR blameless and chalk this whole thing up to Mayor Bloomberg, who isn't always willing to reverse decisions, especially high-profile ones.
The donation is great. But this letter should have been a mea culpa, not an ode to the media misunderstanding the poor NYC marathon. Just my take, but I really am just not impressed.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Guilford Sea Legs Shuffle 10 Miler
You know it's hot, like crazy hot and humid, when 4 miles into a 10 mile road race, a state championship no less, you set your goal to be to run under 70 minutes.
I'd ridden 101 miles the day before and then run 40 minutes and the only goal of that run had been to avoid heat stroke. I weighed myself after that Saturday workout, which I finished at 2:30 PM, and I was under 130 pounds for the first time in- forever. So that lead me to drink everything that wasn't nailed down to the inside of the fridge. Beer, water, Pelligrino. I knew if I was going to race the next day I needed to get back about 5 pounds of water weight.
Still, I had moderate expectations. I got up in the morning and felt my overall recovery from the ride had been moderate at best, but that's how it is with this race, which I'd run more than once the week after doing IM Lake Placid or the day after the Block Island Tri.
We started out and where it was pouring rain last year, it was bone dry so when we turned into the fairgrounds- there's a 90 degree tight turn inside a wooden fence post maybe 100 meters from the start. Runners around me were complaining about the dust JB's van was kicking up, but what are you going to do, have him lead the race out on a bicycle ?
It's a tough first mile because it's a state championship, so you have fast young guys that know what they are doing, fast young guys that don't, and some really fast older guys. We all know you have to take it out easy, but there's a lot of adrenaline out there. I went through a mile in 6:03 and I was at best in 30th place.
We hit the first water stop and there were two people at it. Trying to pour the water into cups and hand it out to everyone going by. Two people cannot adequately staff a water station when it's like 90 and 100% humidity with the sun blazing. I reached for a cup, and it wasn't even close- the guys in front of me got water, and I got nothing. I said 'Damn it' out loud, not yelling at the volunteers- it wasn't their fault, but still, I needed to pour that water on my head. Jim Zoldy heard me and told me all he could think was 'I know that's going to show up on alan's blog...'
Probably it's just a hangover from being at IMLP, where they know how to handle water stops.
What really was surprising to me was how hard some people were pushing it. The way most races start out, I get out there pretty fast, then I get passed by people in the back half of the first mile that are going to crush me- like Jim Zoldy as an example. That's OK. But there were people I was not sure would be finishing ahead of me really taking it out and I just shut it down a little because I wanted to run the 10th mile closer to the what I ran the 2nd.
There were some traffic issues but in a race you're going to have to a) wait b) drive around me. I really want to run the tangents during a race, especially one that's ten miles long. I don't have a ton of patience with traffic and the way the race is set up there is only one or two places where there would be any chance of conflicting with oncoming runners (faster) unless you are well towards the middle or back of the pack.
There are some rollers in the first two miles and then the race gets as hilly as a race in Guilford near the water can get. The truth is in a road race a 50 or 60 foot elevation gain is a serious hill that will start to break people and sure enough even before the fourth mile some of the same guys that had passed me and that I questioned (in my own head) passing me started coming back to me. I passed one guy who- I swear- was weaving up a hill, not going in a straight line but climbing at angles back and forth.
My focus was really totally on me though. I was really fighting the urge to run hard up these hills and the downhills on the other side. But when I hit the 4 mile mark I reset my goal of under 65 minutes, which was not a very aggressive goal- to breaking 70. It was that kind of day- I only had my 24-25 runners ahead of me, and I was bleeding time like a stuck pig, running 6:40+ a mile mile after mile.
The back part of the course is a loop, and it's where the biggest hills are and that's where a lot of damage that gets done. I was really running with two guys. Now when I saw with, they were running 50 meters in front of me and no one was any closer, but for me, that's close. I tend to run in the deep space between the packs, like the dark matter physicists are always looking for.
They were back and forth with each other while I watched both of them get closer to me. Towards the end of this back loop we came up on a guy who had been in that top 15 group and he was walking. I tapped him on the shoulder and told him to stick with it, and then went back to watching the wheels come off one of the guys in front of me, who I caught and passed.
It's a real relief to head down the long sloping downhill back towards Guilford and you can also see well ahead of you- I was passing the second guy now and setting my sights on a group of three further up the road. At this point I was getting good water. At one stop I told them to just hit me with the water and got three cups in the torso, and yes, that's exactly what I want.
I got back into town and because I'm an idiot who'd forgotten the course despite running it last year, I was confused as to why I had not yet hit 8 miles. At this point, I was already having trouble holding it together. I'd passed several more guys on 146, but now the only two guys still within range were down the street as I made the corner and the heat was like a giant hand pushing down on me. I was thinking that no, they couldn't possibly have us run up over the bridge- a giant hill really, in both directions before the turn home.
Yes, yes they could.
You run into a little neighbourhood in that mile 8 area and there was- I kid you not, the nicest 80-year old woman handing out cups of water at a water stop.
Alone.
Her attempt to get me a cup of water was- unsuccessful.
The first guy to pass me in at least 5 miles, and the last one that would- went by and said something to the effect of how ineffective the water stops had been. I agreed.
I was glad to be carrying my own bottle.
Heading towards the hill I could see two guys in front of me, one with a familiar freckle pattern on his back. I knew who it was and it's someone I never beat, but I passed him going up the hill and then I passed another guy. I kept thinking the turnaround was coming but it wasn't...
The turn around was actually that you run around the old Stone House. Brutally far away. I made that turn and passed another guy in the parking lot and then just ran as hard as I could to the bridge and just kept running hard. No one was going to catch me. Going the other way, people, lots of people, were walking up the hill.
I made the second to last turn and saw a 5K athlete in front of me. I had to run her down- I was about to pass a 5k running after running 10 miles. I got the pass, turned into the fairgrounds and had gapped the people I passed, so I just finished, grabbed a bottle of water, poured it over my head and then grabbed another, mixed up some recoverite, and sat by my car exhausted drinking it.
I got a chance to talk to some friends, but the whole thing was sobered by watching an ambulance pull in to deal with one of four athletes who collapsed after the race.
Four. None serious affected but still, something like that reminds you that all you achieved or endured, or whatever, it's small. It's secondary...
I'd ridden 101 miles the day before and then run 40 minutes and the only goal of that run had been to avoid heat stroke. I weighed myself after that Saturday workout, which I finished at 2:30 PM, and I was under 130 pounds for the first time in- forever. So that lead me to drink everything that wasn't nailed down to the inside of the fridge. Beer, water, Pelligrino. I knew if I was going to race the next day I needed to get back about 5 pounds of water weight.
Still, I had moderate expectations. I got up in the morning and felt my overall recovery from the ride had been moderate at best, but that's how it is with this race, which I'd run more than once the week after doing IM Lake Placid or the day after the Block Island Tri.
We started out and where it was pouring rain last year, it was bone dry so when we turned into the fairgrounds- there's a 90 degree tight turn inside a wooden fence post maybe 100 meters from the start. Runners around me were complaining about the dust JB's van was kicking up, but what are you going to do, have him lead the race out on a bicycle ?
It's a tough first mile because it's a state championship, so you have fast young guys that know what they are doing, fast young guys that don't, and some really fast older guys. We all know you have to take it out easy, but there's a lot of adrenaline out there. I went through a mile in 6:03 and I was at best in 30th place.
We hit the first water stop and there were two people at it. Trying to pour the water into cups and hand it out to everyone going by. Two people cannot adequately staff a water station when it's like 90 and 100% humidity with the sun blazing. I reached for a cup, and it wasn't even close- the guys in front of me got water, and I got nothing. I said 'Damn it' out loud, not yelling at the volunteers- it wasn't their fault, but still, I needed to pour that water on my head. Jim Zoldy heard me and told me all he could think was 'I know that's going to show up on alan's blog...'
Probably it's just a hangover from being at IMLP, where they know how to handle water stops.
What really was surprising to me was how hard some people were pushing it. The way most races start out, I get out there pretty fast, then I get passed by people in the back half of the first mile that are going to crush me- like Jim Zoldy as an example. That's OK. But there were people I was not sure would be finishing ahead of me really taking it out and I just shut it down a little because I wanted to run the 10th mile closer to the what I ran the 2nd.
There were some traffic issues but in a race you're going to have to a) wait b) drive around me. I really want to run the tangents during a race, especially one that's ten miles long. I don't have a ton of patience with traffic and the way the race is set up there is only one or two places where there would be any chance of conflicting with oncoming runners (faster) unless you are well towards the middle or back of the pack.
There are some rollers in the first two miles and then the race gets as hilly as a race in Guilford near the water can get. The truth is in a road race a 50 or 60 foot elevation gain is a serious hill that will start to break people and sure enough even before the fourth mile some of the same guys that had passed me and that I questioned (in my own head) passing me started coming back to me. I passed one guy who- I swear- was weaving up a hill, not going in a straight line but climbing at angles back and forth.
My focus was really totally on me though. I was really fighting the urge to run hard up these hills and the downhills on the other side. But when I hit the 4 mile mark I reset my goal of under 65 minutes, which was not a very aggressive goal- to breaking 70. It was that kind of day- I only had my 24-25 runners ahead of me, and I was bleeding time like a stuck pig, running 6:40+ a mile mile after mile.
The back part of the course is a loop, and it's where the biggest hills are and that's where a lot of damage that gets done. I was really running with two guys. Now when I saw with, they were running 50 meters in front of me and no one was any closer, but for me, that's close. I tend to run in the deep space between the packs, like the dark matter physicists are always looking for.
They were back and forth with each other while I watched both of them get closer to me. Towards the end of this back loop we came up on a guy who had been in that top 15 group and he was walking. I tapped him on the shoulder and told him to stick with it, and then went back to watching the wheels come off one of the guys in front of me, who I caught and passed.
It's a real relief to head down the long sloping downhill back towards Guilford and you can also see well ahead of you- I was passing the second guy now and setting my sights on a group of three further up the road. At this point I was getting good water. At one stop I told them to just hit me with the water and got three cups in the torso, and yes, that's exactly what I want.
I got back into town and because I'm an idiot who'd forgotten the course despite running it last year, I was confused as to why I had not yet hit 8 miles. At this point, I was already having trouble holding it together. I'd passed several more guys on 146, but now the only two guys still within range were down the street as I made the corner and the heat was like a giant hand pushing down on me. I was thinking that no, they couldn't possibly have us run up over the bridge- a giant hill really, in both directions before the turn home.
Yes, yes they could.
You run into a little neighbourhood in that mile 8 area and there was- I kid you not, the nicest 80-year old woman handing out cups of water at a water stop.
Alone.
Her attempt to get me a cup of water was- unsuccessful.
The first guy to pass me in at least 5 miles, and the last one that would- went by and said something to the effect of how ineffective the water stops had been. I agreed.
I was glad to be carrying my own bottle.
Heading towards the hill I could see two guys in front of me, one with a familiar freckle pattern on his back. I knew who it was and it's someone I never beat, but I passed him going up the hill and then I passed another guy. I kept thinking the turnaround was coming but it wasn't...
The turn around was actually that you run around the old Stone House. Brutally far away. I made that turn and passed another guy in the parking lot and then just ran as hard as I could to the bridge and just kept running hard. No one was going to catch me. Going the other way, people, lots of people, were walking up the hill.
I made the second to last turn and saw a 5K athlete in front of me. I had to run her down- I was about to pass a 5k running after running 10 miles. I got the pass, turned into the fairgrounds and had gapped the people I passed, so I just finished, grabbed a bottle of water, poured it over my head and then grabbed another, mixed up some recoverite, and sat by my car exhausted drinking it.
I got a chance to talk to some friends, but the whole thing was sobered by watching an ambulance pull in to deal with one of four athletes who collapsed after the race.
Four. None serious affected but still, something like that reminds you that all you achieved or endured, or whatever, it's small. It's secondary...
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Fairfield Half-Marathon
I signed up for Fairfield only after pulling a wrong-way at Lake Placid. Running a half two weeks after a marathon is not the smartest move, but I was well-trained, felt I'd kept up my volume without pushing too hard- I ran 11 miles Friday but then just spun for 90 minutes Saturday morning so I'd be fresh for the race.
Fairfield is an interesting half. I've run it more times than any other half-marathon, to the best of my knowledge anyway, and most of then have ended with me struggling in the last few miles to keep my dren together. I hate that and that's really been a focus this year for longer races, to hold it together and not fall apart at the end of races. This was my 3rd half-marathon and I'd held up OK at Disney and really well at Chesire, so I knew Fairfield would be a test. The course is definitely the hardest of the three, and it was going to be hot. I may like the heat, but it does effect everyone, no matter how acclimated they are, and I felt after running in last week's heat, I was ready.
I didn't need much of a warm-up with the heat. The starting line is packed, even though men and women have different starting lines (and different first miles of the course) I was right on the line at the start. Yes, it's a big race with a lot of good people, but 20-30 men fit on the starting line and I have a reasonable chance of being in the top 30 men. The press of bodies was a little much, but I was able to get off the line hazard-free.
I'd seen Don Gustavson before the race and he asked me what I wanted to run and I said I thought I'd run around 1:24 although in theory I was capable of 1:21. He was coming off a monster Friday of swimming, biking, and I think running, so he was aiming for 1:29 or so.
The start was cramped but not difficult. I was able to get off the line with no issues. It's a tough start because the first mile is extremely flat with about one turn. So the tendency is to cook that first mile, which in this race, is a really bad idea. I've run some 5:40s there and come back and been over 7 the last two miles....
I went out and ran over 6 minutes the first mile and that was actually about what I wanted. I didn't feel overcooked after a mile. I like that
At the next turn we merged in with the women. There were eight women in front of me right off the bat- Mary Lynn Currier- who I passed but never saw, and two other women that were in visual range. I hit the second mile marker feeling like I was running a good pace but the clock said 12:30 and that meant I'd run a 6:20. So I was off the pace in the second mile. Huh ?
There's a hill then, and experience tells me at this point in this race that this hill is not to be charged up, but rather handled a little bit carefully.
Al Metro was there and he yelled something out that really stick with me the whole race and I'll thank him for when I see him. 'You have experience on this course.' I thought about that the whole race, about how yes, I do have experience on the course and as I watched people racing each other this early in the race, breathing hard and struggling to stay with each other, I really questioned their judgement. There was one guy, running in shorts and a bandana, that would keep surging like this, getting caught and then chasing people, pulling ahead of me and then getting caught by me, for more than six miles. He was breathing so hard while I was mostly thinking about maintaining my form. Eventually he went off the back. The two women that I could see I also passed. I'd had a brief glimpse of the lead
The real big moment in the race was just after the 6 mile mark for me. I'd been watching people running all crazy and thinking I'd let them have their moment, because in the end a race is about minutes, not moments. I got swarmed by a guy and a woman that I thought must be running together. We were going up a hill, I'd established the inside line, the exact line I wanted and then went around me on both sides and totally cut my line off. I was pissed.
I actually said 'You took my line'.
I think sprinted around them, and took the line back. I was thinking that these two were definitely going to beat me. They'd caught me from behind about halfway through the race, this woman had someone pacing her. Therefore sprinting around them was stupid.
I did it anyway.
At the top of the hill there's a turn and we went around that and they tried to pass again and this time I was towards the middle of the road because that's where the tangent was. The guy bumped me. I looked at him and said 'Really ?' and then picked up my pace again.
This really was the most critical part of the race. The next thing I knew we were heading to a water station. The guy ran in front of me and cut me off- again.
That was it. I was running at another level now, the same way I ran at Disney. The guy picked it up and eventually separated from me. By the way he was responding to questions from spectators, they were looking for her to be with him. He turned around and looked for her and gestured in my direction because she was, for a few miles, right on my heels.
After that, the increased pace brought people back to me. I was not passed by anyone else after about mile 7 and started picking people off.
Going up the hill in the 10th mile, there were some cyclists riding right at me, and this was right after I passed the guy that had repeatedly bumped and cut me off. I was frantically waving them out of the way. The guy said to me 'You're wasting a lot of energy.' I didn't respond. Instead I cranked up the engine and separated on the hill, got a gap, and then at the top of the hill blistered down, catching more guys. I didn't see him again until the chute.
I ran those flat last two miles really hard, never backing off and not feeling like crap like I usually do at the end of the race.
At 12 miles, I could clearly see Wantuil Souza. He looked like the heat had gotten to him- he'd been far out ahead of me and I just set my sights on him and caught him before the turn and then took that last turn and really ran as hard as I could the last half mile or so.
When the guy that had told me I was eating energy crossed the line I put on my hand and shook his and then asked him what he'd been saying about 'wasting energy...'
I was surprised a few hours later when I got home- Ian wanted to leave right away so I was gone before the race was even two hours old- that not only had I won my five year age group but I was first master- that was a pleasant surprise. Although it was my slowest half this year, I felt like it was one of my better races.
And I enjoyed running it...
Fairfield is an interesting half. I've run it more times than any other half-marathon, to the best of my knowledge anyway, and most of then have ended with me struggling in the last few miles to keep my dren together. I hate that and that's really been a focus this year for longer races, to hold it together and not fall apart at the end of races. This was my 3rd half-marathon and I'd held up OK at Disney and really well at Chesire, so I knew Fairfield would be a test. The course is definitely the hardest of the three, and it was going to be hot. I may like the heat, but it does effect everyone, no matter how acclimated they are, and I felt after running in last week's heat, I was ready.
I didn't need much of a warm-up with the heat. The starting line is packed, even though men and women have different starting lines (and different first miles of the course) I was right on the line at the start. Yes, it's a big race with a lot of good people, but 20-30 men fit on the starting line and I have a reasonable chance of being in the top 30 men. The press of bodies was a little much, but I was able to get off the line hazard-free.
I'd seen Don Gustavson before the race and he asked me what I wanted to run and I said I thought I'd run around 1:24 although in theory I was capable of 1:21. He was coming off a monster Friday of swimming, biking, and I think running, so he was aiming for 1:29 or so.
The start was cramped but not difficult. I was able to get off the line with no issues. It's a tough start because the first mile is extremely flat with about one turn. So the tendency is to cook that first mile, which in this race, is a really bad idea. I've run some 5:40s there and come back and been over 7 the last two miles....
I went out and ran over 6 minutes the first mile and that was actually about what I wanted. I didn't feel overcooked after a mile. I like that
At the next turn we merged in with the women. There were eight women in front of me right off the bat- Mary Lynn Currier- who I passed but never saw, and two other women that were in visual range. I hit the second mile marker feeling like I was running a good pace but the clock said 12:30 and that meant I'd run a 6:20. So I was off the pace in the second mile. Huh ?
There's a hill then, and experience tells me at this point in this race that this hill is not to be charged up, but rather handled a little bit carefully.
Al Metro was there and he yelled something out that really stick with me the whole race and I'll thank him for when I see him. 'You have experience on this course.' I thought about that the whole race, about how yes, I do have experience on the course and as I watched people racing each other this early in the race, breathing hard and struggling to stay with each other, I really questioned their judgement. There was one guy, running in shorts and a bandana, that would keep surging like this, getting caught and then chasing people, pulling ahead of me and then getting caught by me, for more than six miles. He was breathing so hard while I was mostly thinking about maintaining my form. Eventually he went off the back. The two women that I could see I also passed. I'd had a brief glimpse of the lead
The real big moment in the race was just after the 6 mile mark for me. I'd been watching people running all crazy and thinking I'd let them have their moment, because in the end a race is about minutes, not moments. I got swarmed by a guy and a woman that I thought must be running together. We were going up a hill, I'd established the inside line, the exact line I wanted and then went around me on both sides and totally cut my line off. I was pissed.
I actually said 'You took my line'.
I think sprinted around them, and took the line back. I was thinking that these two were definitely going to beat me. They'd caught me from behind about halfway through the race, this woman had someone pacing her. Therefore sprinting around them was stupid.
I did it anyway.
At the top of the hill there's a turn and we went around that and they tried to pass again and this time I was towards the middle of the road because that's where the tangent was. The guy bumped me. I looked at him and said 'Really ?' and then picked up my pace again.
This really was the most critical part of the race. The next thing I knew we were heading to a water station. The guy ran in front of me and cut me off- again.
That was it. I was running at another level now, the same way I ran at Disney. The guy picked it up and eventually separated from me. By the way he was responding to questions from spectators, they were looking for her to be with him. He turned around and looked for her and gestured in my direction because she was, for a few miles, right on my heels.
After that, the increased pace brought people back to me. I was not passed by anyone else after about mile 7 and started picking people off.
Going up the hill in the 10th mile, there were some cyclists riding right at me, and this was right after I passed the guy that had repeatedly bumped and cut me off. I was frantically waving them out of the way. The guy said to me 'You're wasting a lot of energy.' I didn't respond. Instead I cranked up the engine and separated on the hill, got a gap, and then at the top of the hill blistered down, catching more guys. I didn't see him again until the chute.
I ran those flat last two miles really hard, never backing off and not feeling like crap like I usually do at the end of the race.
At 12 miles, I could clearly see Wantuil Souza. He looked like the heat had gotten to him- he'd been far out ahead of me and I just set my sights on him and caught him before the turn and then took that last turn and really ran as hard as I could the last half mile or so.
When the guy that had told me I was eating energy crossed the line I put on my hand and shook his and then asked him what he'd been saying about 'wasting energy...'
I was surprised a few hours later when I got home- Ian wanted to leave right away so I was gone before the race was even two hours old- that not only had I won my five year age group but I was first master- that was a pleasant surprise. Although it was my slowest half this year, I felt like it was one of my better races.
And I enjoyed running it...
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Running in the Heat
It's 95 degrees here in the heat today and I have to say that unlike most people, I love it. I can't wait to get out and run on these hot and humid days. But it's not easy, and you have to do it the right way. So here are some tips humbly offered.
Throw the GPS in the drawer
It's so easy these days to track every step, analyse the distance and speed of every workout, and of course, when we do that, we start to develop specific expectations. Despite being the first person to post his routes and times to facebook, let's face it, you're the only person that cares how far or how fast your workout was. Don't get me wrong, self-expectations can be great, but on an extremely hot day you should always run for a set time, not a set-distance. Why ?
Lower your expectations
It's important to moderate your expectations, especially this time of year when you might be running in extreme heat for the first time. The heat will affect you because it's not physiologically possible for you to completely ignore it. When it's 80 and you go out and start your run you'll feel the heat eventually. When it's 95 and you step out the door it will hit you in the face the first step. And keep hitting you.
I recommend picking either a different route that you usually run or doing a strict out and back with the goal of turning around halfway through the run. Don't try and negative split. I went out today and picked a route I knew I could normally easily run in under 75 minutes with the goal of running it in 75 minutes. You are not going to run as fast. Accept it. Start the run with the goal of surviving the run.
That may sound lame but 95 degree weather, especially humid 95 degrees is no joke. It's more than most people can handle. Add the fact that this kind of humid heat invariably drives down air quality and you have every reason to reduce your expectations.
Carry a full-sized water bottle, not a fuel belt
I'm a big advocate of a full-sized water bottle under all circumstances, but in the extreme heat, I think it's a must. This is just a question of mass and um, kinetic energy (?) 4 small bottles with 6-8 ounces of fluid will heat up very quickly, where as a single 20 ounce bottle will stay cool longer. Keeping your fluids cool as long as possible helps provide maximum benefit when you drink them. Drinking 85 degree sports drink is not cooling to help keep your core body temperature regulated.
I know for a lot of people, carrying a water bottle is not something they like to do, but my advice is to do it anyway.
Stay in the shade
Try to pick a route with a lot of shade. Shade is 5-10 degrees cooler (or more). Every minute you spend in the shade improves your chance of success. It's not wimpy or anything, it's common-sense smart.
Relax
The first 10-20 minutes of the run may not feel very good. You are going to run slower. Live with it. Settle in and run steady- running fast is not what you are looking to do. Don't think about the heat, don't think about the low air quality. Getting panicky will raise your heart rate 5-10 beats a minute and by far the most important thing is keeping your heart rate down. Don't push, don't time your miles, ignore any other runners out on the road.
Concentrate on Your Form
One of the best ways to stay relaxed and get the most out of your run is to work on your form. I'm not a very zen type of guy, but with the heat, your muscles and joints are going to be lose and it could be your best chance to run with really good form. Really good form in turn makes you more relaxed. Being relaxed in turn keeps your heart rate down. This is especially important on hot days. Cardiac drift is going to work in an accelerated fashion on hot days and keeping your heart rate low is essential. If your form is good you will run strong, and if you run strong you'll feel confident.
Back off on the hills
Your heart rate is always going to elevate on hills. In the extreme heat, you have to be especially careful not to let your heart rate get away from you. If you push a hill, your heart rate will soar, and you may not be able to get it back down. In the heat, your heart rate will stay elevated longer, perhaps significantly. Don't charge up a hill only to have to walk after you crest it, or spend the entire rest of your run with an unproductively elevated heart rate.
Don't let the fact you're feeling good goad you into anything
15-20 minutes into your run, even if you felt like crap at the start, you may start to feel really good. That's great. Don't start pushing hard. That's your body settling in. If you start pushing as soon as you start feeling good, you will stop feeling good. Again, cardiac drift will occur. That good feeling, at the same intensity, will leave you in the dust later. Keep your intensity level the same, run and enjoy the fact that for a few minutes, you feel good. Don't fall into the trap of thinking that if it doesn't hurt it's not hard enough.
Listen to your body
Normally I am the first person to tell my body to go frak itself. But on an hot day it's essential you listen to what your body is telling you. If it says you need to walk, walk. Heat stroke is not some kind of weird joke, it's incredibly dangerous. Runners and triathletes sometimes get a little superman complex going. Don't. If your body says slow down, even walk, it beats an ambulance ride to the ER.
Replenish, then reward
It's essential that you replenish as soon as you get done runner. I recommend two scoops of Recoverite in a glass with cold water.
My rewards are: Red Bull, @stepehenathome's American Dream, or a Root Beer.
Get some calories in right away. Then sit back and put your legs up and rest and relax.
You earned it.
Throw the GPS in the drawer
It's so easy these days to track every step, analyse the distance and speed of every workout, and of course, when we do that, we start to develop specific expectations. Despite being the first person to post his routes and times to facebook, let's face it, you're the only person that cares how far or how fast your workout was. Don't get me wrong, self-expectations can be great, but on an extremely hot day you should always run for a set time, not a set-distance. Why ?
Lower your expectations
It's important to moderate your expectations, especially this time of year when you might be running in extreme heat for the first time. The heat will affect you because it's not physiologically possible for you to completely ignore it. When it's 80 and you go out and start your run you'll feel the heat eventually. When it's 95 and you step out the door it will hit you in the face the first step. And keep hitting you.
I recommend picking either a different route that you usually run or doing a strict out and back with the goal of turning around halfway through the run. Don't try and negative split. I went out today and picked a route I knew I could normally easily run in under 75 minutes with the goal of running it in 75 minutes. You are not going to run as fast. Accept it. Start the run with the goal of surviving the run.
That may sound lame but 95 degree weather, especially humid 95 degrees is no joke. It's more than most people can handle. Add the fact that this kind of humid heat invariably drives down air quality and you have every reason to reduce your expectations.
Carry a full-sized water bottle, not a fuel belt
I'm a big advocate of a full-sized water bottle under all circumstances, but in the extreme heat, I think it's a must. This is just a question of mass and um, kinetic energy (?) 4 small bottles with 6-8 ounces of fluid will heat up very quickly, where as a single 20 ounce bottle will stay cool longer. Keeping your fluids cool as long as possible helps provide maximum benefit when you drink them. Drinking 85 degree sports drink is not cooling to help keep your core body temperature regulated.
I know for a lot of people, carrying a water bottle is not something they like to do, but my advice is to do it anyway.
Stay in the shade
Try to pick a route with a lot of shade. Shade is 5-10 degrees cooler (or more). Every minute you spend in the shade improves your chance of success. It's not wimpy or anything, it's common-sense smart.
Relax
The first 10-20 minutes of the run may not feel very good. You are going to run slower. Live with it. Settle in and run steady- running fast is not what you are looking to do. Don't think about the heat, don't think about the low air quality. Getting panicky will raise your heart rate 5-10 beats a minute and by far the most important thing is keeping your heart rate down. Don't push, don't time your miles, ignore any other runners out on the road.
Concentrate on Your Form
One of the best ways to stay relaxed and get the most out of your run is to work on your form. I'm not a very zen type of guy, but with the heat, your muscles and joints are going to be lose and it could be your best chance to run with really good form. Really good form in turn makes you more relaxed. Being relaxed in turn keeps your heart rate down. This is especially important on hot days. Cardiac drift is going to work in an accelerated fashion on hot days and keeping your heart rate low is essential. If your form is good you will run strong, and if you run strong you'll feel confident.
Back off on the hills
Your heart rate is always going to elevate on hills. In the extreme heat, you have to be especially careful not to let your heart rate get away from you. If you push a hill, your heart rate will soar, and you may not be able to get it back down. In the heat, your heart rate will stay elevated longer, perhaps significantly. Don't charge up a hill only to have to walk after you crest it, or spend the entire rest of your run with an unproductively elevated heart rate.
Don't let the fact you're feeling good goad you into anything
15-20 minutes into your run, even if you felt like crap at the start, you may start to feel really good. That's great. Don't start pushing hard. That's your body settling in. If you start pushing as soon as you start feeling good, you will stop feeling good. Again, cardiac drift will occur. That good feeling, at the same intensity, will leave you in the dust later. Keep your intensity level the same, run and enjoy the fact that for a few minutes, you feel good. Don't fall into the trap of thinking that if it doesn't hurt it's not hard enough.
Listen to your body
Normally I am the first person to tell my body to go frak itself. But on an hot day it's essential you listen to what your body is telling you. If it says you need to walk, walk. Heat stroke is not some kind of weird joke, it's incredibly dangerous. Runners and triathletes sometimes get a little superman complex going. Don't. If your body says slow down, even walk, it beats an ambulance ride to the ER.
Replenish, then reward
It's essential that you replenish as soon as you get done runner. I recommend two scoops of Recoverite in a glass with cold water.
My rewards are: Red Bull, @stepehenathome's American Dream, or a Root Beer.
Get some calories in right away. Then sit back and put your legs up and rest and relax.
You earned it.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
The Marathon that Wasn't
Sometimes you go to a race, and something goes wrong. It happens to everyone. It can be a 5K in the middle of nowhere with 100 people where they don't really mark the course right, it could be an Ironman where your tire blows up in transition 15 minutes before the race starts.
It could be a race that's a throwaway or the race that you spent six months training for and at the end of the day, random chance, your own penchant for the occasional mistake or something else can step up and bite you in the ass.
I'd been training for the Lake Placid Marathon, well, since the day after the Disney Half Marathon. I started out the year with a 1:21 there, trimming 5 minutes off my last half-marathon in September, went on to win 3 races in the spring, and then got in the type of training a lot of people can only dream of finding the time for- a 22 mile run in the middle of the week, 5 10-plus miles runs in 10 days. I was ready to run this race, my legs were in good shape, mentally I wanted to be in the top 5.
I don't know that I'll ever write the actual race report for this race, because well, I didn't run it.
I ran most of it. Over 25 miles of it, but that's not a marathon.
Due to an odd fluke of the course the turn-around is not at 13.1 miles but at around 12 miles (or something).
I had it in my head exactly where the turn-around was, and when I got there, I turned around and headed the other way. There were some super-sized cones at the turn-around, I saw the lead runners going the other way.
I had a brain fart. This was an epic one, the biggest race-day mental error I have ever made.
I didn't know it, really know it, until I ran past the actual turn around.
Wow. I finished the race, I talked to the runner closest to me when I made the turn, I sat on the bumper of the timing truck for a minute, and fought back a few tears. I'm a bit of neanderthal, I don't guys should ever cry, but that was pretty close.
I went to the timer, gave the my pull tag, and told then I'd missed a turn. They wanted to really check it out and make sure I was wrong. I told them I was sure, and went back to the hotel.
I don't deserve a pat on the back or anything for that. I totally frakked up out on the race course. Plain and simple. I made a mental error you just can't make. This race has three turn-arounds and you have to get all three right. Going to the timer and disqualifying myself wasn't something I could decide whether or not I wanted to do.
Physically, I felt like I'd run a marathon. Mentally, I'd faced the same challenges, the fatigue and the self-doubt. Emotionally, there was no satisfaction.
I can't say it didn't suck. I can't say it didn't remind me that this was the same place where I'd passed on what is probably the only Kona spot I'll ever earn. I can't say I wasn't stupid embarrassed.
I can say that I got showered and took Ian and played 18 holes of Pirate Golf (I won). I can say that the next morning I signed up for the Branford Road Race and the Fairfield Marathon.
I can't get that race back. I can't forget that what I did was stupid, but I can't let it affect me either. I have raced before and now, after this morning, I have raced again.
And that is all you can do.
It could be a race that's a throwaway or the race that you spent six months training for and at the end of the day, random chance, your own penchant for the occasional mistake or something else can step up and bite you in the ass.
I'd been training for the Lake Placid Marathon, well, since the day after the Disney Half Marathon. I started out the year with a 1:21 there, trimming 5 minutes off my last half-marathon in September, went on to win 3 races in the spring, and then got in the type of training a lot of people can only dream of finding the time for- a 22 mile run in the middle of the week, 5 10-plus miles runs in 10 days. I was ready to run this race, my legs were in good shape, mentally I wanted to be in the top 5.
I don't know that I'll ever write the actual race report for this race, because well, I didn't run it.
I ran most of it. Over 25 miles of it, but that's not a marathon.
Due to an odd fluke of the course the turn-around is not at 13.1 miles but at around 12 miles (or something).
I had it in my head exactly where the turn-around was, and when I got there, I turned around and headed the other way. There were some super-sized cones at the turn-around, I saw the lead runners going the other way.
I had a brain fart. This was an epic one, the biggest race-day mental error I have ever made.
I didn't know it, really know it, until I ran past the actual turn around.
Wow. I finished the race, I talked to the runner closest to me when I made the turn, I sat on the bumper of the timing truck for a minute, and fought back a few tears. I'm a bit of neanderthal, I don't guys should ever cry, but that was pretty close.
I went to the timer, gave the my pull tag, and told then I'd missed a turn. They wanted to really check it out and make sure I was wrong. I told them I was sure, and went back to the hotel.
I don't deserve a pat on the back or anything for that. I totally frakked up out on the race course. Plain and simple. I made a mental error you just can't make. This race has three turn-arounds and you have to get all three right. Going to the timer and disqualifying myself wasn't something I could decide whether or not I wanted to do.
Physically, I felt like I'd run a marathon. Mentally, I'd faced the same challenges, the fatigue and the self-doubt. Emotionally, there was no satisfaction.
I can't say it didn't suck. I can't say it didn't remind me that this was the same place where I'd passed on what is probably the only Kona spot I'll ever earn. I can't say I wasn't stupid embarrassed.
I can say that I got showered and took Ian and played 18 holes of Pirate Golf (I won). I can say that the next morning I signed up for the Branford Road Race and the Fairfield Marathon.
I can't get that race back. I can't forget that what I did was stupid, but I can't let it affect me either. I have raced before and now, after this morning, I have raced again.
And that is all you can do.
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