Since this blog is actually supposed to be about racing and training, I probably should write a short post about Sunday's race. Obviously, I didn't do that on Sunday.
That's the nice thing about a blog- you can go wherever you want- or not. Why ? Hmmm ...
1) For the second straight race, I lost second place in the last mile of the run.
2) I was not happy.
3) Get over it.
Greenwich is an interesting race. Tod's Point is a great location for this race- it has the three things every duathlon ought to have- good parking, good bathrooms, and good transition- like Brian's, you park literally yards from the transition area. Also like Brian's, it's a very flat run. Unlike Brian's, the 10 mile bike is not flat (and it's not 10 miles).
I had been on the fence about the race until the Wednesday before when I sent my check in, and I drove through the pouring rain on 95 at Long Wharf I was questioning my sanity in not just running for two hours.
But when I got to Greenwich, the mostly drizzle that had met me on the ride down had stopped. I grabbed my number, slung on my headphone and started getting ready. I soon realised that switching back wheels- back to the Zipp that the chain had been installed for- at 10:30 at night was not the right move. I made some adjustments and hoped for the best. I racked the bike and started warming up and pretty soon, it was race time. I was nervous. I hadn't raced in a month (familiar theme this year). I also was racing a duathlon with bike shoes for the first time, well, that I could remember.
The race started with my wave and as we heard 'start' and there was a press of bodies, however, I felt less overwhelmed by how far back I was and by the time we hit the opening turn, things had settled down and I was only six or so places back. I worked my way up into fourth after a mile and decided that I needed to split the field up. I started pushing the leader, or at least I thought I was pushing him, and pretty soon we were alone, with two guys from Bethel cycle closest behind.
I felt like I was coasting, although this might not be true. I knew to pass the guy I was following, I would have to go all out, and that was a bad idea. My best option was to sit back, wait, and hope this guy was not as good on the bike.
We came into transition 1-2 and went out 1-2 and within the first minute, I realised that I wasn't likely to be challenging this guy on the bike. I could see him as we went through Old Greenwich, but he was getting farther away. i could do the math. Meanwhile, Greg Pelican was on my almost immediately and we began some back and forth. That lasted all the way to the biggest hill on the course. I backed off a little on that hill, remembering other years where I charged up the hill and then was flat at the end of the bike, where I frequently got caught, usually by groups of two-three riders.
Greg can eat my lunch on the bike, but I decided I had to keep him close and surprised myself. He never really got out of site, and although I was close to giving up third on the bike, that's where I came in.
By the time I started transition I was in fourth. That was a little dispiriting. As a toe-clip guy I'm usually the one leaping up the ranks in transition.
I headed out and quickly split the two guys in site in front of me. I was about 4 seconds behind Greg and I passed him in the back, but I was working hard and never really found that last gear where I could pull away. As we made the turn back onto the 'main' road, he started to pull away and I found myself losing second place again, just like Brian's.
Greg had a really solid second run, and I never did pull back up to him, although I felt like I gave a better chase effort than last race- he was just too good for me.
I was pretty unhappy. I'd finished third again, thought I was a good two minutes slower than last year...
It's a great race. I wish it were sanctioned, but you can't have everything. I always have friends down there and it's a good early-season chance to catch up with people and find out how they are doing. It's also a good chance to remind yourself how challenging these races are.
And hey, I actually did have a good race after all. But that's not what it's really all about...
Showing posts with label greenwich biathlon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label greenwich biathlon. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Long Run as a Curative for Bad (?) Race
I emailed my coach around lunchtime today, asking if I could push tomorrow's 2 hour run up to this afternoon. I had three reasons I wanted to do this, only one of which I felt was worth articulating. I had done a duathlon in the morning, so the original plan was to do the long run tomorrow.
I mentioned scheduling issues in my email. Because of the way tomorrow is set up for me, the only way to get the run in was to get up at 5 AM and run for two hours, after what was probably going to be another six hours of sleep (if that).
Eric said to go ahead and do the run as long as I was up for it, which I felt I was.
But there were two other reasons I wanted to get out there today and not wait besides the muted joy of knowing that long run is once again out of the way until next week.
The first is that while the duathlon I did will not help me in any measurable way for Lake Placid, going out and running tired will. I've done LP three times and here's what I've learned- if you aren't feeling a little beat during the run, you aren't working hard enough. Getting up on Sunday morning and eating some fruit and drinking some coffee and nailing a two-hour run at 20 seconds a mile faster than IM pace is important, but it doesn't get it done 100%. I wanted to be leg-sore, tired, frustrated. John Hirsch wrote about this on his blog, but this isn't a case of wanting to be able to relive my glory days of massive volume followed by instant recovery (I've yet to have any glory days or massive volume).
The second was that I was annoyed with myself. I lost second place today by eight seconds, and did not feel that I should have lost by eight seconds. It was a failure to achieve a better result, a mental breakdown in will power or a simple lack of ability to go fast on this day. I have nine seasons of coaching field hockey, track, and lacrosse under my belt and I know sometimes you have to get tough with your athletes. Sometimes you have to play bad cop and give a workout that says 'I'm not satisfied with your effort or execution and when that happens, you will suffer.' You're trying to breed a desire to succeed and quite frankly, a fear of failure, and that can be learned even when you know it's coming. I wanted to atone to myself for failing, although there are far more serious things that I should be atoning for, such as every time I say no when my son wants me to do something with him and I feel like a little part of each of us dies. As demanding, irrationally so sometimes, as a 3 year old can be, 'No, I can't right now' never quite feels right
So I went out and ran, with a small bottle of g2 and a cliff shot for food, cranked up the headphones and set out while wife and son were at his swim lesson, which is a one-parent affair.
The first hour was tough. My left leg was sore- achilles, calf, and vastus intermedius. I alternately felt like my lower intestines were either channeling a Chilean volcano or trying to give birth to the Rising Star. My heart rate was up around 143 and my goal is 129-132, a heartrate at which I can run surprisingly fast for a surprisingly long period of time. I actually was considering whether or not to just stop at home at an hour for a while.
Then something funny happened. I relaxed. I started channelling the athlete people tell me I am, the guy that does OK at the races but doesn't exist inside my head, where good is what other people better than me are. My heart rate dropped into the mid 130's but i was running faster. I did the hardest climbing in the last 50+ minutes (I ended up only running 1:52, but who's counting ), ran better, opened up my stride, worked my arms better, felt good. Actually felt good.
The goal of running tired and getting through it really did come to fruition. The preparation for IMLP, itself a springboard for my real focus, IM Florida, actually didn't take a hit despite doing a race in the morning. It was also a reminder that some things feel like they need to be kept close as reminders or motivation, both good (family) and not so good (IM AZ), but that the race this morning was not one of those things. Maybe I'd been slower than last year. Maybe I didn't prevail against a fellow athlete I had outran on the first loop, and only ran even with on the second.
Where will I be in July, that's the real question.
And then at a dinner for people who have worked on Brian's and Hammerfest to raise money for the Myelin Project, Michael D'Addetta mentioned to me I was faster than last year. That came as a surprise, so when I got home I looked it up. 1:25 faster, not the two minutes slower I assumed I must have been based on the results of where other people were around me.
Which is why a certain coach says to base what you do on what you do, not on what other people do....
I mentioned scheduling issues in my email. Because of the way tomorrow is set up for me, the only way to get the run in was to get up at 5 AM and run for two hours, after what was probably going to be another six hours of sleep (if that).
Eric said to go ahead and do the run as long as I was up for it, which I felt I was.
But there were two other reasons I wanted to get out there today and not wait besides the muted joy of knowing that long run is once again out of the way until next week.
The first is that while the duathlon I did will not help me in any measurable way for Lake Placid, going out and running tired will. I've done LP three times and here's what I've learned- if you aren't feeling a little beat during the run, you aren't working hard enough. Getting up on Sunday morning and eating some fruit and drinking some coffee and nailing a two-hour run at 20 seconds a mile faster than IM pace is important, but it doesn't get it done 100%. I wanted to be leg-sore, tired, frustrated. John Hirsch wrote about this on his blog, but this isn't a case of wanting to be able to relive my glory days of massive volume followed by instant recovery (I've yet to have any glory days or massive volume).
The second was that I was annoyed with myself. I lost second place today by eight seconds, and did not feel that I should have lost by eight seconds. It was a failure to achieve a better result, a mental breakdown in will power or a simple lack of ability to go fast on this day. I have nine seasons of coaching field hockey, track, and lacrosse under my belt and I know sometimes you have to get tough with your athletes. Sometimes you have to play bad cop and give a workout that says 'I'm not satisfied with your effort or execution and when that happens, you will suffer.' You're trying to breed a desire to succeed and quite frankly, a fear of failure, and that can be learned even when you know it's coming. I wanted to atone to myself for failing, although there are far more serious things that I should be atoning for, such as every time I say no when my son wants me to do something with him and I feel like a little part of each of us dies. As demanding, irrationally so sometimes, as a 3 year old can be, 'No, I can't right now' never quite feels right
So I went out and ran, with a small bottle of g2 and a cliff shot for food, cranked up the headphones and set out while wife and son were at his swim lesson, which is a one-parent affair.
The first hour was tough. My left leg was sore- achilles, calf, and vastus intermedius. I alternately felt like my lower intestines were either channeling a Chilean volcano or trying to give birth to the Rising Star. My heart rate was up around 143 and my goal is 129-132, a heartrate at which I can run surprisingly fast for a surprisingly long period of time. I actually was considering whether or not to just stop at home at an hour for a while.
Then something funny happened. I relaxed. I started channelling the athlete people tell me I am, the guy that does OK at the races but doesn't exist inside my head, where good is what other people better than me are. My heart rate dropped into the mid 130's but i was running faster. I did the hardest climbing in the last 50+ minutes (I ended up only running 1:52, but who's counting ), ran better, opened up my stride, worked my arms better, felt good. Actually felt good.
The goal of running tired and getting through it really did come to fruition. The preparation for IMLP, itself a springboard for my real focus, IM Florida, actually didn't take a hit despite doing a race in the morning. It was also a reminder that some things feel like they need to be kept close as reminders or motivation, both good (family) and not so good (IM AZ), but that the race this morning was not one of those things. Maybe I'd been slower than last year. Maybe I didn't prevail against a fellow athlete I had outran on the first loop, and only ran even with on the second.
Where will I be in July, that's the real question.
And then at a dinner for people who have worked on Brian's and Hammerfest to raise money for the Myelin Project, Michael D'Addetta mentioned to me I was faster than last year. That came as a surprise, so when I got home I looked it up. 1:25 faster, not the two minutes slower I assumed I must have been based on the results of where other people were around me.
Which is why a certain coach says to base what you do on what you do, not on what other people do....
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